Book by Potter Patricia
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With her hand held securely in Patrick's, Marsali allowed him to lead the way toward the other side of the secret grotto, where a high pile of rocks and a thicket of hawthorn would provide them some privacy.
She couldn't believe this was happening. Hours ago, she had been dreading a ceremony that would bind her to a man she distrusted. Sick with dismay, she'd prayed hopelessly that Patrick would come to her. And here he was. The man she'd loved all her life.
He had changed. Her handsome prince was a man now, one whose face bore physical scars, and his soul, she sensed, scars of another kind. Yet his glittering green eyes, as vivid as emeralds, softened each time they looked at her--only to turn cautious and wary again when he looked away.
He held her hand as if he were afraid she might escape and, for a moment, Marsali was seized by uncertainty. More than twelve years separated the boy and the man. There was a hardness to him now, an aura of danger that she did not remember.
She wanted to put her arms around him, and feel his arms around her. She wanted the touch of his mouth, the comfort of his closeness. But their clans were at war. And while she told herself he was still Patrick, her Patrick, her recent, bitter experience told her to be cautious. Her father had been willing to trade her to achieve his own ends. Her brother Gavin had supported him. So would not Patrick want to use her, too? Did not all men think of women as weapons to be used to wage their bloody wars?
She would be a fine trophy to flash before Gregor Sutherland. It would please the marquis greatly if his heir were to bring home a Gunn hostage. And she knew her father would never give her up to a Sutherland without a fight.
Still, her hand tightened in his, clutching at the fading dreams. Her love. Her starcatcher. She had looked for that star every night and prayed for his safety. As long as it hung bright in the night sky, she had known he was safe.
But that was no longer enough.
Patrick pulled her to a halt beneath an old, gnarled oak. His arms crushed her to him as if he needed her as much as she had needed him. No man had ever held her like this, so close that she could feel every inch of his lean, hard body pressed to hers. He was so tall and strong. For an instant, she was afraid.
But the green gaze that regarded her so intently was familiar--and filled with hunger. She had never hoped that he loved her. It has always been sufficient that she loved him, and that he'd consented to their betrothal. Yet as she melted into his tight embrace, she realized that she wanted everything. Everything, including love, that Patrick could give her.
When his head slowly lowered, her heart started to race. She felt his hand at the small of her back tremble, and it astonished her to see a trace of uncertainty flash in his eyes. Surely this confident man who held her so boldly couldn't be waiting for her permission.
Still, she gave it, whispering, "Patrick..."
An instant later, his lips seized hers.
It wasn't the first time he'd kissed her. Six years ago, in saying goodbye, he'd held her hands and touched his lips to hers in a sweet parting. A gentle kiss. A passionless kiss. A kiss that was nothing at all like this.
And before she knew what was happening, fire was raging between them. The joining of their lips seemed to contain an energy so intense she thought she would be consumed by it. So much longing and desperation--aye, that, too.
All doubts sank to the recesses of her mind as the heat between them intensified, and a need she'd never known before exploded into raw hunger. This was Patrick. And he was here, at last. Until that moment, she'd never realized how much she'd feared for him, how much she'd needed him, how deeply her spirit had yearned for him.
She knew it was madness to stay here with Patrick, when the result could be his death. Yet she couldn't forgo the shelter of his arms. Nor could she force herself to end the heated flow of desire between them.
A deep growl rumbled in his chest. "Sweetness," he whispered into her hair. "I dreamed of this."
He had dreamed of her. It was so much more than she'd ever expected. Her legs trembled as his tongue touched her lips, then slipped inside her mouth. A wave of new sensations rushed through her. Yet she did nothing to discourage the intimate way he explored her. Instead, she found herself responding to his every touch.
Somehow, with what was left of her wits, she realized she was clinging to him, as if her life were forfeit. She heard the small, throaty sounds she was making. She felt his entire body shaking, and she felt the hard, vital evidence of his manhood pressed against her. She had heard servants talk; she knew where this was leading. And she wanted it, wanted to move even closer to him, to join her body intimately with his.
But she could not build her own happiness on the blood of others, especially not the blood of her kin and the kin of the man she loved.
She had to return to Abernie. She had to go through with the wedding....
From award-winning author Patricia Potter comes a spectacular novel set in the wild Scottish Highlands, where a daring beauty and a fearless lord defy treachery and danger to find their hearts' destiny....
Marsali Gunn had been betrothed to Patrick Sutherland when she was just a girl, yet even then she knew the handsome warrior would have no rival in her heart or her dreams. But when Patrick returns from distant battlefields, a bitter feud has shattered the alliance between their clans, and Marsali prepares to wed another chieftain. Boldly, Patrick steals what is rightfully his, damning the consequences. And Marsali is forced to make a choice: between loyalty to her people or a still-burning love that could plunge her and Patrick into the center of a deadly war....
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