She made him want to be worthy of her. “Olivia.”
“Yes?”
He could hear her heart pounding, her pulse racing, and he ached to touch her. “How can ye be so young and
so wise?”
“I don’t feel wise.” Her face flushed with rushing blood. “I—I can hardly think at all.”
He lay his fingers on her neck and felt the throbbing artery. “I shouldna do this.”
“You mean…touch me?” She sounded breathless. “It’s okay.”
“Lass.” He cupped his hand around the base of her neck. “I’m only getting started.” He pulled her hard
against his chest, leaning over to claim her mouth.
She stiffened with surprise, and he halted a mere fraction away from her lips. Her quick breaths feathered his
skin, making him desperate to taste her.
“Olivia,” he whispered. He was so damned close.
He felt it the minute she surrendered. Her body melted against his. Her eyes fluttered shut. He pressed his
mouth against hers, molding her lips, relishing their soft fullness.
He wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. Even through the thick wool of her jumper, he could feel her
breasts, round and firm. He slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss, coaxing her lips to open.
With a sweet feminine moan, her lips parted, and he teased the small opening with his tongue. She panted,
as if trying to catch her breath, her breasts pushing against his chest. With each push, his groin tightened and
his passion threatened to strip away the last remnant of his control.
“Robby,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against his
whiskered jaw.
He kissed a trail back to her mouth, and this time she kissed him back, matching the desperation of his
desire. His heart soared. He invaded her mouth, tasting her with his tongue. She stroked his tongue with her
own, then sucked it.
His groin hardened and pressed painfully against his jeans. He slid his hands down her spine to the
delicious curve at the small of her back, then over her sweet round butt. He splayed his hands and pulled her
tight against his erection.
She gasped against his mouth, breaking the kiss.
“Olivia.” In his vision, her face turned from pink to dark red. He tucked her face against his chest to hide the
red glow of his eyes.
She snuggled against him, breathing shallow and fast. He plucked the strange contraption from her hair, and
the long curly locks fell free. He grabbed a handful and buried his face in it. It was so soft, so silky against his
skin. He willed himself to regain control, a losing battle when he imagined how thick, black, and silky her hair
would be between her legs.
Patience. He needed to court her slowly and carefully. Good timing would be essential, or he could lose her.
In the distance, he heard a clanging sound. He turned and spotted Olivia’s grandmother standing by the
telescope and banging a large metal spoon against a pot.
“What is that?” Olivia glanced toward the house and winced. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I forgot she was watching.”
Robby stepped back, releasing Olivia, and the clanging stopped. “Apparently, round one is over.”
Olivia turned to him with a shy smile, but it transformed instantly into a frown. “Are you all right? Your eyes
seem a little red.”
With an inward wince, he looked away. “I think some sand blew into them.” He hated to lie, so he quickly
changed the subject. “Do ye want me to take ye home?”
She glanced at her grandmother, then shook her head. “You’ve endured enough interrogation for one
evening. And you should hurry home to wash out your eyes.” The wind swept her hair across her face, and she
shoved it back.
“Here.” He handed her the tortoiseshell contraption he’d removed from her hair, and winced when she
opened the claw. “Bugger, look at the teeth on that thing. It doesna poke holes in yer head?”
With a laugh, she twisted her hair onto the back of her head. “No.”
He moved closer to observe her
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley