Page 31 of The Highlander's Christmas Bride
All that delicious skin was so smooth and tempting that Logan’s fingers itched to stroke it.
He briefly closed his eyes, fighting for control. While the lass was no longer a nun, she’d just spent three years holed up in a convent. Logan had committed his fair share of sins over the years, but he didn’t need to add lusting after an almost-nun to the list.
Gingerly, he inched the quilt up over her gorgeous arse. Then he leaned over the bed to gently tap her sleep-flushed cheek.
“Wake up, lass,” he murmured. “We’re in trouble.”
She breathed out a weary little sigh and rolled over onto her back. Her lush lips parted and the tip of her tongue slipped out, wet and pink. Logan had to clamp down hard on the urge to take her mouth in a devouring kiss.
Get a hold of yourself, you randy bastard.
He tapped her cheek more firmly. “Donella, you need to wake up.”
Her thick lashes fluttered up. Eyes as green and soft as moss, hazy with sleep, stared up at him. For a moment, Logan felt like he was falling into something so peaceful and sweet that nothing could ever disturb it.
A moment later, her gaze snapped into focus, turning as sharp as cut glass. “What did you say?”
“We’re in trouble. Time to go.”
She sighed. “Trouble. Of course.” Then she eyed him for a few seconds. “You’d best let me get up.”
“Oh, right.” He stepped away from the bed, feeling like an idiot.
Donella sat up. Though she dragged the covers around her shoulders, he nonetheless got a peek of the tops of her pretty breasts, as round and creamy as the rest of her.
God, she really was going to kill him.
He turned his back and began shoving his gear into his kit.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“There are men in the yard asking questions about us. About you.”
“How did they find us so quickly?”
He flashed a glance over his shoulder but jerked his gaze away when she threw back the covers and slid to the floor.
“Not Mr. MacDonald and his brother,” he said. “They’re looking for Logan Kendrick and Donella Haddon.”
“I suppose our bait and switch wasn’t that effective after all. I just hope they didn’t hurt Uncle’s men.”
“I think it’s unlikely. It’s you they’re after.”
“Still, this is my fault. You’re all in danger because—”
“Try not to worry, lass. Davey and Foster know how to take care of themselves.”
“Oh, blast,” she muttered.
Logan yanked on his vest, and then chanced looking over his shoulder. Donella had managed to wriggle into her breeches but was having trouble lacing up her woolen jerkin.
“Do you need help?”
“Apparently, I’m all thumbs when it comes to boy’s clothing.”
He crossed to help her, brushing her hands aside and quickly lacing her up. She stood quietly as he worked, although her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.
“Thank you,” she said in an adorably gruff tone when he finished.
