But he seized her wrist and drew her towards him, a glint in his green-coppery hued eyes. ‘I should punish you for laughing at me,’ he said in a teasing voice.
She was breathlessly indignant. ‘I rescued you! I deserve a reward.’
‘Then you decide which it is to be.’ Smiling, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers in a tantalising fashion. It was so pleasant that instinctively his arms went round her and he brought her against him so that her head rested in the crook of his shoulder.
With a heavily beating heart Cicely gazed up at him, knowing she felt his kiss had been no punishment. Perhaps he saw her answer in her eyes and that was why he followed it up with another kiss that was longer, deeper and intensely satisfying. She should have struggled, but she had no desire to resist him. Her lips parted beneath the insistent pressure of his mouth and she felt a further thrill as the tip of his tongue danced along the inside of her lip. It felt so sensual that her own tongue flickered against the side of his. Instantly she was aware of the quiver that passed through him and knew she should pull away, but her insides seemed to be melting like butter on hot bread and she didn’t want the moment to end.
Then a horse whinnied and attempted to thrust its head between them. Instantly Mackillin released her and his expression was so thunderous that Cicely was shocked and hastily turned away from him and went to her own horse, fumbling at the beast’s accoutrements with shaking hands. She dragged herself up into the saddle. Did he blame her for what had just happened between them? What was happening to her? What were these unfamiliar urges she felt towards him? It had been such fun and satisfying when they had worked together to free him from the snowdrift. If only she and Diccon could share such moments of being in harmony. She needed Mackillin to go far away so that she could concentrate her thoughts on praying for Diccon’s return. She needed inner peace instead of the tumultuous feelings that gripped her now. She must hold steadfast to her decision to keep her distance from Mackillin for the remainder of his stay at Milburn Manor.
‘We must go back.’ The harshness in his voice was enough to make her school her features before looking at him.
‘It would be foolish to continue,’ she said, sensing the tension in him as he held himself erect in the saddle.
He clenched his jaw and dug his heels into his horse’s flanks. There were words he would have liked to say to her, but it would indeed be folly to speak them. He was shocked that a kiss he had intended as part of the fun they had shared had turned into something far deeper. What did he think he was playing at? He had made up his mind to marry Mary Armstrong, knowing it was sensible. He did not expect to reach the heights in his alliance with her, knowing that the love that the poets and minstrels raved about scarcely existed between man and wife. Yet just now he had felt such an explosion of feeling inside him that a certain part of his body still throbbed with arousal. He could not help wondering whether Cicely was attracted to him, as he was to her, against her better judgement. He certainly could not allow it to interfere with his plans. After years of travelling and adventure it was time to settle down and raise a family. For that he needed allies to make his position more secure. For the remainder of his stay he would make sure not to be alone with Cicely.
Having made their decisions, both prayed that God would be kind to them and send a thaw.
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