Page 17 of Taken by the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #2)

I cannae believe her! I cannae believe Moira would lie to me, then lock both of us in this room!

Jude huffed in exasperation. He knew Moira had become something of a mother hen since his mother had passed, but he’d never expected her to become so meddlesome.

He was considering whether or not he should break down the door when he was startled by a giggle from Valerie. He turned to find her staring at the door, mirth and exasperation flickering in her eyes. Then, her gaze met his, and she collapsed into her chair, laughing.

Jude scowled. “What’s so funny?”

“I think yer maid doesnae like it when we dinnae talk to each other for more than a day.” Valerie snickered. “If I’d kenned she’d take such measures, I’d have said good mornin’ to ye at least!”

“Aye.” Jude turned to look at the door. “How long afore she lets us out, do ye think?”

Valerie arched an eyebrow at him, still struggling to control her laughter. “Why are ye askin’ me? She’s yer maid.”

“Och, dinnae remind me. I’m fairly tempted to retire her after this stunt.” Jude shook his head. “Of all the mischief I expected Moira to get up to, this wasnae on the list. I thought she might conspire with ye to replace all my curtains, to make more colorful kilts… but nae this!”

“Well, there’s nay helping it now.” With visible effort, Valerie stopped laughing and rose from her seat. “She’ll let us out when she decides we’ve had time to talk about… whatever she thinks we need to talk about. Until then, there’s nay sense in wasting the said time.”

“What do ye…” Jude trailed off as she produced a length of cloth, cut in a shape he recognized. “Ye made me a new kilt?”

“Almost. It isnae quite finished yet.” Valerie waved for him to come and stand near the west-facing windows. “I want to see how it looks on ye, to see if there are any adjustments I need to make.”

Jude watched her saunter toward him with the length of fabric. “Ye’re nae goin’ to ask me to remove the kilt I’m wearin’, are ye?”

Valerie snorted. “Of course nae. I dinnae need to do so to be sure that I’ve got the fit right. It is a matter of making some minor adjustments, mostly in the hem, at this stage. I already have the measurements I need to be sure that it fits every other way.”

Jude lifted his arms away from his sides, careful not to touch her.

Unlike when she’d been taking measurements, Valerie seemed much more cautious, her hands moving slowly and carefully as she wrapped the kilt around him.

It was almost as if she were trying not to touch him.

When her fingers brushed against him, even though it was through the layers, she blushed.

He’d thought her almost brazen before, but now he found himself wishing that nothing had changed between them. It was clear that the kiss they’d shared had affected her deeply. He’d never intended for that to happen.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

They spoke the words simultaneously.

Valerie stopped and looked up at him, her eyes wide, as startled as he felt. “What are ye sorry for?”

Jude swallowed. “For kissin’ ye the other day. I ken it was a mistake, and I shouldnae have done it.”

Valerie’s face reddened, and her mouth twisted in a bittersweet smile.

“Och, ye werenae the only one involved in that. I kissed ye back, and I shouldnae have done it. I ken I’m promised to another…

I should have kenned better than to let ye kiss me that way, much less respond. I should have pushed ye away.”

There was a lump in his throat, a heat in his blood, and a heaviness in his loins that cried out she was wrong, but Jude forced himself to ignore all of them.

“Still, lass. I should have shown better self-control, or at least sent ye away. I was surprised by yer actions, but I should have dismissed ye or had Moira watch us.”

“It isnae yer fault. I should have acted more professionally.”

Her voice was soft, and it made him want to hit something. Perhaps slap himself for making her sound so uncertain.

He was tired of apologizing and listening to her apologize. It felt like they were talking in circles for no purpose.

“Mayhap we should just agree that it was a bad idea and that we should never engage in such activity again.”

“Aye. It is the wisest course of action. Kissin’ and touchin’ each other like that… it should never happen again.”

“Never,” Jude agreed.

Valerie finished pinning and adjusting the fall of the kilt, her touch as soft as a butterfly’s wings. “There. Done.”

Her gaze met his.

Jude wasn’t sure who moved first. He only knew that there was a slow heat burning and building in his veins, and that as soon as her emerald gaze met his, he was lost.

His hands landed on her shoulders, just as her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Then, he was pulling her close, his mouth claiming hers like a man dying of thirst who’d found a spring of pure, sweet water.

Valerie moaned into his mouth, her lips parting under his to allow him to slip his tongue inside and taste her. Their tongues tangled and dueled, teasing and testing as they stumbled and fell into the chair, Jude seated with Valerie straddling his thighs.

The scent of heather and honey filled his nose, the taste of sweetness and freshly baked bread lingering on his tongue as he explored the warm, moist cavern of her mouth, mapping every inch. Her weight was warm and soft, coaxing a guttural groan from him.

Jude managed to pull his head back, panting and breathless, so he could speak. “Och, lass…”

Her hands dragged across his chest in an unspoken challenge. Then, her fingers tangled in the laces of his shirt, pulling them open to expose his chest as she leaned in and kissed him again. After a moment, she shifted her focus and nipped his earlobe.

Well, if she wants to do that…

Jude slid his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, then to the laces of her bodice. It was the work of a moment to loosen them, then undo them completely and drag both dress and chemise down to her waist, partially trapping her arms as he did so.

Valerie gasped. “What are ye…?”

“Hush. Unless ye wish me to stop.”

He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the pulse at her jaw, before kissing her throat and shoulder. He bit and sucked lightly, leaving a mark on her shoulder as she moaned.

“Do ye want me to stop?”

“Nay.”

Valerie reciprocated by tangling her fingers in his beard and mimicking the kisses he’d pressed to her throat and collar. Jude grunted as her teeth sank into his flesh, leaving a mark he was certain would bruise by morning.

His groin was aching, his erection straining against the fabric of his kilt, trapped painfully between them.

He slid his hands up her shoulders and then palmed her bare breasts. Valerie’s breath stuttered against his neck as he pinched her nipples and rolled them between his fingers, teasing the sensitive nubs until they were stiff peaks, leaving twin trails of heat across his now bare chest.

Her hand slid down his stomach, sending sparks across his skin until her fingers touched the waistband of his kilt. His hips bucked in helpless reaction.

He responded by sliding his hands down her belly, feeling her muscles quiver, until his thumb teased her navel. Valerie gasped, her body shivering under his touch.

He slid his fingers under her dress, but there was too much in the way, the fabric between his fingers and his goal.

With a growl of frustration, Jude pushed the fabric aside until he could put his hands on her thighs, guiding her to straddle him a little more closely before he caressed her thighs, up to cup the curve of her buttocks.

Valerie made a soft, breathy sound and dragged her nails down his chest, teasing him with the slightest pressure, then dragged his kilt up to free his straining erection. The cool air on his heated flesh made him gasp.

Valerie’s thumb stroked across the erect tip, and Jude jerked in his seat, then caught her hand to stop her from touching him further. “Dinnae do that, lass, or I’ll never last.”

“Last?”

“Aye.”

Her proximity was maddening enough, his whole body alive with sparks dancing in his blood.

Valerie moved her hand to touch him again, but he stopped her. “Hands on the arms of the chair. Or on the back of the chair.”

Valerie flushed. “But I…”

Jude slid his hands teasingly across her thighs, making her moan, then drew them away. “Hands on the back or the arms of the chair. I’ll nae touch ye again until ye do.”

It was a difficult promise to make when his whole body begged for more—to touch her and taste her, to feel her warmth against him and around him—but he held firm. Then, he bent to blow the lightest of breaths on her exposed, taut nipples.

Valerie quivered and made a soft, needy sound, her body squirming against his in a manner that almost distracted him. Jude caught her thighs, drawing little circles on the sensitive inner skin, making her moan and writhe, while avoiding her increasingly damp sex.

“Hands on the arms of the chair, or the back.”

Valerie made a keening sound, like a whine, but her hands moved to the back of the chair. The angle put her heat close to his straining erection—close enough to make his muscles flex.

“Och, so ye like to play with fire, lass? I’m certain…” He stroked the crease of her thighs, still avoiding her most intimate places, then slid his hands back around her hips to caress her arse, trailing his fingers down the crack to make her tremble and twitch. “… I can oblige ye.”

Jude drew his hands across the round globes of her buttocks, across the flare of her hips, until he could run his thumbs across her inner thighs.

He traced a line down toward her knees, then slowly glided back upward to the curls that adorned her sex.

He slid his fingers through the soft thatch, then cupped her sex with the palm of his hand.

Valerie trembled, rocking against his hand, shifting restlessly against him in a way that wrenched a low moan from his throat as the fabric between them brushed against his erect member.