Page 29 of Taken By the Highland Villain

I wonder what it would be like to be the first man to show her pleasure and teach her the joys of the bedchamber. To take herin my arms, kiss those soft lips until she gave herself over to me… and stroke that soft, tanned skin, loosen the ties on those midnight tresses and run my hand through the silken waterfall of her hair…

She was shy but spirited. Oh, he could just imagine the way she’d moan his name as he caressed her breasts, the way she’d writhe as he touched her… Would she be sensitive around the ribs or the inside of her thighs? What about behind her knees?

He’d kiss his way down her body, find every place that made her moan, and drink in her arousal until she came apart around him. Or mayhap he’d stroke her core with his hand, bring her pleasure that way… find her pleasure center and tease it until she was on the edge, afore claiming her properly.

A wry smile twisted Jude’s lips. He’d seen enough of Valerie to know that she would hardly be a passive partner. If she chose to grace his bed—and it would be her choice, he would have it no other way—then she would hardly be content to lie there and do nothing.

He tipped his head back, imagining her hands and lips on his body. Stroking his chest, his stomach, his thighs…

Valerie had not fussed or recoiled at the sight of his scars, not the one on his knee or the others he’d acquired over the years. He could just imagine her sensitive, talented fingers tracing his skin, taking apart his control and putting him back together in a firestorm of pleasure.

With a groan, he closed his eyes, wrapping his hand loosely around his straining erection as he imagined Valerie’s hand gripping him instead. The feel of her hands, so uniquely callused, sliding across the sensitive skin, her thumb caressing the tip of his shaft, before sliding down to caress his balls…

Or perhaps her tongue. That tongue, so quick with sharp wit, a warmth that could be either laughter or temper so ready in her words… Oh, he could imagine that tongue caressing him from tip to bollocks, dragging his release out of him until he fell apart under her ministrations.

Jude shifted in the tub, lost in his imaginings, then grunted as his knee twinged, the scar reminding him that he’d pushed himself a little harder than he should have in his fight against Craig.

His knee. Those two words, and the reminder of his scar, cooled his arousal like ice water dumped over his head.

He had no concerns that Valerie would look at him differently because of his scar. She wasn’t that sort of woman. But the scar itself…

It didn’t hamper him too much in his daily life. He could walk, run, ride, even fight—at least to a point. But making love was a completely different matter, and a different sort of exercise.

Proper lovemaking required his knee to flex in ways he’d not attempted since the day he was injured. He’d never found a woman who made him feel it was worth the effort.

There’s nay guarantee my knee would hold up through a passionate encounter… and a fine thing it would be to embarrass myself because I couldnae properly make love to a woman. I doubt Valerie, or any woman, would be pleased to be the ones doin’ all the work because I cannae keep up with her.

The thought was a bitter one, and it was followed by one that made him feel like he’d swallowed acid or live coals.

And what happens if more raiders come? What, then? I couldnae protect my maither or Kendra. How could I protect any other woman? And if they came for Valerie as they came for my sister, what then? I’d only fail her, just as I failed afore.

‘Tis one thing to snap and snarl at a snake like Laird MacOlley. I could probably drive a coward like that back if he were sneaking around and trying to treat Valerie like a possession, like he did in the market. But if he had an army at his back? If it were a pitched battle? That’s different, and with a blackguard like him, I’d most likely fail.

Whether he liked it or not, history had already proven he wasn’t strong enough to defend those he loved. And he already knew Valerie had a relentless pursuer.

She’d fled her home to keep her brother-in-law from having to fight Laird MacOlley. How could he expect to do any better than Laird MacKane? Ifhecouldn’t protect Valerie, how could Jude be sure he’d be more successful?

Och, she’s better off if I keep my distance from her, and I’m better off nae riskin’ the embarrassment or my heart. I can dream as much as I like, but the truth is, I’m a wounded, broken warrior who cannae defend anyone—nae Kendra, nae Valerie… nae even myself.

With a muted snarl of frustration, Jude let his head fall back against the tub. He still ached with desire, but no longer had any will to do anything about it, his heart filled with the bitterness of memory and the awareness of his own weakness.

The water cooled, then turned cold, then almost frigid, and yet Jude remained in his lonely tub until the water was as cold as the despair and old grief that filled his soul.

Valerie noticed Jude’s absence at supper and for the rest of the evening. A part of her wondered if he was well, or if something had happened to him, but she was mostly relieved for the respite.

Kissing Jude, being teased by him… his presence, the heat and strength of him… Everything about him stirred feelings she’d never felt before for any man. The way he made her shiver with desire, the way his kiss had made her almost melt into his arms, and the way his words had made her whole body tingle—it was all new and tantalizing.

It frightened her. Before now, she’d clung to her mother’s advice and never considered any other path. Jude was the first manwho had ever made her feel that she might want to ignore her mother’s words.

“Never let any man steal yer independence.”

Words she’d lived by ever since that day nearly eleven years ago when her mother had died.

She slept badly that night and woke up in the morning feeling both weary and determined.

Nay matter how I feel, I cannae let Jude sway my determination to remain independent. I simply cannae. Besides, there’s little chance I’ll remain here after I’ve finished my work, so it is best I dinnae get my hopes up, or let my wishes run away with me.

Now that I’ve taken the measurements I need, mayhap it is best if I avoid speakin’ with Ju—Laird MacFinn any more than I need to.