Certainly not lacking in a bad way because when he came out of the shower with his broad chest exposed and his dark hair dripping with water, she felt a rush of heat pool right between her legs. He was quick to smile even in the middle of everything that was going on, and his smile carried to his eyes. Sexy, startling blue eyes. Kimberly sighed. His body was like it was sculpted from the rocks. The artist in her wanted to paint him or immortalize him in clay. The woman in her wanted to lick her way down his body and back up again.
Oh, and that voice. She could hear him in her mind already, whispering dirty words and making her come while he was inside her. Kimberly rolled over, put her face in the pillow, and moaned softly. Oh, I should be shot, she thought. Thinking about the poor man like that while he was in the middle of a crisis. But my, my, my, he is a fine piece of sweetbread. He was so big he couldn't even sleep on her sofa and opted to sleep on the floor. She could imagine how it felt to be under him, encompassed with all that strength.
A noise from the living room caught her attention. His cry of no had her running from the room in her shortie pajamas. She stopped behind the long chair and watched him thrash around in his sleep.
"Please don't, you can't die, Father, you can't!" The distress in his voice made her heart break, and Kimberly moved instantly next to him.
"Duncan." She whispered his name and shook his shoulder gently. "Duncan, wake up, sweetie. You are having a bad dream."
His eyes opened as if sleep had never been there. He focused on her face and reached up to cup her cheek. "Lass, why are you out here?"
"I heard you cry out. You were having a nightmare." Kimberly took his hand. It was on the soft skin of her face.
"Is that what you call it?" His dry laugh was filled with scorn.
"What were you dreaming about?" Kimberly sat on the floor next to his long, muscled thighs.
"My father. The king of England had him killed as a warning." Duncan's voice held no emotion.
"What kind of warning?" Kimberly asked softly.
"To any other land owners like him who refused the English lords on their land. They would be hanged just like him," he explained.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Duncan. They hanged your father?" Kimberly placed her hand over her mouth while tears filled her eyes.
"It would have been simpler if they had." Duncan's chest heaved with a sigh as if the burden he was carrying just became too heavy. "We launched an escape to save him, and we almost made it. My father's horse broke its leg and he was thrown. The English soldiers used their spears to stab him over and over again. He died in my arms cursing the English and all they stood for."
"How old were you when he died?" Kimberly questioned.
Duncan replied, "Nineteen. I took my ma and sisters to my uncle's home and took to the seas vowing revenge." Duncan shook his head against the pillows beneath him. "I cannot believe I shall never set eyes upon them again, lass. This is worse than death."
"Don't say that," Kimberly ordered. She felt her temper rise at his words. "You never know, maybe this was your goddess's way of saving you from the same fate as your father. You don't know what was going to happen! I don't believe your ending up in the water at this time was a punishment. Maybe it was fate. So don't ever let me hear you take your life for granted again!"
Duncan stared at her, his blue eyes boring into her own until she felt as if she couldn't breathe. He held out his hand to her and asked simply, "Lay next to me, sweet Kimberly, water nymph who saved this lowly sailor."
"Uh, what now?" Kimberly was taken aback by his request.
"Lay with me. I need to feel as if something is real right now, solid, and will not drift away," he appealed again.
"Um, oh, okay." She pulled a pillow from the sofa and stretched out next to him.
Duncan snatched the pillow out from under her head and before she could even thump against the floor, he had her nestled in the crook of his arm. His biceps enveloped her and made her feel so secure. His hard, muscled body was just as she had imagined, warm and manly.
"Lass, I have to ask you a question," Duncan said.
Kimberly knew her voice was almost like a throaty purr, but it could not be helped when she spoke. "Ask away, sweetie."
"I could not help but notice the clothes you wear for your night's sleep," he said. "They are very revealing, and who are the colorful little people portrayed on the front?"
Kimberly grinned. "These are sleep shorts and a tank shirt. The colorful little people on the front are Snow White and the seven dwarves from a fairytale."
"Fairytale? We have fairies on the isle. They are tiny creatures who leave trinkets to let you know they are there. They dance and play by the moonlight, and their magic is very powerful."
"So they really do exist!" Excitement was in her voice. "But a fairytale is a story for young girls to show true love when they find their prince charming."
"Ah, tales of white knights and damsels in distress," Duncan said knowingly. "Where is your prince charming, Kimberly?"
Her laugh was short. "I stopped believing in prince charming long ago. Chivalry is dead."
"Such cynicism should not come from a beautiful mouth," Duncan commented. "Let me fix that."
Before she could reply, his mouth descended to hers, and Kimberly forgot every thought that was in her head. His lips were warm and firm against hers, coaxing her lips open so he could sample her taste. She obliged willingly, and his tongue plundered her mouth. His kiss was wild and untamed. Their tongues mated and twined with each other while Kimberly let her fingers sink into the thick hair at his nape. The kiss could have gone on forever and she would not have cared. She had never been kissed so passionately and completely. She was left breathless and wanting more.
She felt disappointed as he pulled away from the kiss. Her lips tingled from the pressure of his, and she didn't want the feeling to end.
"I hope that might change your mind." Duncan lay back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
"Ha ha, you have a lot a confidence in just one kiss, Mr. Ferguson." Kimberly was smiling as she spoke.
"Aye, I have had many a woman swoon at my kiss, lass," he said proudly.
"I'm not a dainty little thing wearing a frilly dress. I have some backbone to me," Kimberly let him know. "I can survive a kiss."
She felt Duncan's laughter against his chest. "We'll see, little one. We shall see."