He slanted his mouth over Jessica’s again.
Behind the passionately entwined couple, Drustan’s eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared. “Of all the arrogant—”
“Remember the day I trapped you in the garderobe and you finally remembered who I was, my love?” Gwen interrupted softly.
Drustan swallowed the rest of his words. Did he ever! He’d been nigh crazed with desire for her. Naught in the world could have stopped him from making love to her then and there. In fact, they’d doffed every scrap of clothing the two of them had worn, right there in the great hall, and to this day, he was uncertain if they’d had an audience. And to this day, he still didn’t care.
Which was exactly how it appeared Cian and Jessica were feeling. In fact, there went the man’s shirt soaring over her head, to land on a lamp. The delicate stained-glass shade wobbled a precarious moment, then settled.
Drustan had no desire to see any more of his ancestor than he was currently seeing.
Except, he thought, scrutinizing the man’s sculpted upper torso, blethering hell, what are those tattoos? Had another Keltar fallen from grace? If so, how far? He had wee bairn sleeping abovestairs, a wife and clan to protect, and he’d like to know what to expect. Who and what was this man and what was he doing here? And why did he have an Unseelie Hallow? He wanted explanations, by God, he deserved explanations. This was his castle, his world. He was the senior Keltar male, after all! Or . . . er, och, he had been the senior Keltar male until a few moments ago!
His scowl deepened. If his ninth-century ancestor thought he was going to usurp lairdly duties of the clan based on birth order, he was sadly mistaken.
He regarded him irritably, but despite his displeasure, his expression softened.
Cian and Jessica were kissing like the world might come crashing to an end at any moment.
And Drustan knew exactly how that felt. Each time he kissed his wife, each time he held their precious twins in his arms, it seemed the world couldn’t possibly grant him time enough to love, even if it spun out to eternity.
He didn’t need to try deep-listening to his ancestor to know the woman Cian was kissing was his mate.
Some things required no explanations.
The matching of a Keltar with his woman was one of them.
He heard the metal groan of a zipper. His or hers, he didn’t know. Nor was he about to stand about and find out.
His questions would have to wait.
Pivoting, he ushered the lot of them from the library.
21
The moment Jessi heard the snick of the library door as it closed behind the MacKeltars, her body tensed and her pulse began to race nervously.
They were alone, Cian was free of the mirror, and she was touching him. She couldn’t have asked for more, yet all of a sudden she felt weirded out about it.
With the instincts of a natural-born predator, Cian sensed the change in her body. He broke the kiss and drew back, gazing down at her. His sexy mouth was kiss-slicked and half-opened on the hard, fast breathing of lust, and his dark, hooded eyes glinted dangerously.
She moved back a few steps and stood staring up at him, panting as raggedly as he.
He reached out and lightly brushed her jaw with the back of his knuckles. When he spoke his voice was rough, hot, and low. “Is aught amiss, woman?”
She shook her head.
“I doona think I would handle it well if you played games with me, Jessica.”
Swallowing audibly, she shook her head again.
“What, then?” he demanded.
She shrugged helplessly. She had no words. She couldn’t explain. She wanted him right now more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life and, at the same time, she felt as if she’d suddenly found herself perched on the edge of a precipice, and had no idea what she was doing there. Was goaded by some bone-deep, desperate imperative to back away, to seek safer ground.
She didn’t understand it. She was no coward. She was certainly no cock-tease. She wanted him. And not just for sex, but much more, which was the way she’d always believed it should and would be when she finally slept with a man. Here he was, the man she desired, and he desired her too. Twice before she’d been ready to plunge right in and have sex with him. So what in the world was wrong with her now?
Cian scrutinized Jessica. Now would have been a fine time to be able to deep-read his woman, but he couldn’t, so he turned his focus to her body instead of her mind.
Her jade eyes were stormy. Defiance shaped her stance. Her chin was uptilted, her delicate nostrils flared, her feet planted shoulder-width apart, like a little warrior.
Yet counterpoint to the blatantly telegraphed denial was—not merely invitation—but sheer feminine taunt. Look at me. Her spine was arched, her ass out-thrust, her heavy breasts proudly raised and displayed to their finest.