Chapter Seven
Camden staggered a few feet from Anne’s cottage, his erection straining against the fabric of his breeches.
He tried rubbing it down, hoping to coax it to go away.
But his body was not ready to comply. He was still panting more than breathing at this point.
After several useless attempts to regulate his breathing, he finally blew out a long-determined breath and leaned against a thick tree.
Closing his eyes was a mistake. Because the image of Anne’s flushed face, the feel of her body against his, and the softness of her skin under his palms slammed into him, sending his entire being into violent shivers.
If he didn’t do something about it, he’d be unable to walk properly. Looking around to ensure he’d not be seen, he untied the belt of his breeches, and whilst holding them up with one hand, he slid his other one in and took hold of himself.
He was hard as a rock. His erection seemed to throb as he wrapped his finger around it and commenced to slide his hand up and down the shaft. It didn’t take long, as all he had to do was imagine with each stroke he was delving into Anne’s willing body.
Afterward, Camden straightened his clothing with steady hands, his body eased of its ache, yet his mind no quieter for it. The release had offered only a fleeting balm, like pouring water over embers that still glowed stubbornly beneath the ash.
He could not recall the last time he had taken comfort in a woman’s arms. When Eara walked away, she had not only broken his heart, but she had also shuttered it.
In the hollow that followed, he’d turned from women altogether, convincing himself he had no need of them.
Days became months, and months quietly gathered into two full years of deliberate solitude.
And yet, Anne lingered in his thoughts as stubbornly as the scent of wild thyme on his skin. Was it possible she was meant for him? The notion unsettled him more than any temptation. If she was, then he could not remain so guarded. Courting her would require courage and change.
For the first time in years, the thought didnae alarm him.
His mind returned to Anne. One moment he’d been walking along the quiet creek, the steady rush of water the only sound in the morning stillness. The next, he’d seen her.
Very naked.
He had stopped without thinking, rooted in place. She’d turned at the same moment, her eyes widening in shock. For a breath, neither of them moved. They simply stared at one another, equally stunned, as though the world itself had paused.
She tried to cover herself, flustered and breathless, but there was no undoing what he’d already seen.
The clear water had clung to her skin, tracing the natural lines of her body before dripping away.
He’d tried to look elsewhere, truly he had, but his gaze betrayed him, drawn back despite his better judgment.
Even after wrapping the drying towel around her, the image remained. Standing there in the quiet of the creek, her dark hair damp, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes filled with something he had not been able to name. It was a sight he knew he would not soon forget.
Camden whistled, approaching the village square with a lightness in his step. Unfortunately, as he reached it, the last person he wished to see at the moment walked toward him.
“Camden, we must speak,” Anne’s brother said by way of greeting, his bearded face covering whatever expression he had.
Instantly, Camden’s shoulders tightened. “What is it, Gowan?”
The blacksmith was a bit taller than him, and although he himself was wide-shouldered, Gowan was almost twice as broad.
The man’s chuckle eased the tension somewhat. “I plan to go for an overnight hunt. Have the laird’s permission. Liam is going as well. Thought ye’d like to get out and join us.”
It was not the first time Camden had participated in hunts with several of the village men. Only twice in as many years had he had a kill, but it was always great fun and got him outdoors, which he enjoyed.
“When?” he asked, thinking about Brae and whether he could leave the lad alone.
Once arriving back at the apothecary, Camden found Beitris at the table packing herbs into her medicinal box. Her lips curved in acknowledgement when he walked in. “I am teaching Brae about herbs.”
At the end of the table, Brae sat with an array of dried plants in front of him. He looked up just for an instant before turning his attention back to the herbs his bruised face a picture of concentration.
“Does healing interest ye?” Camden asked the young man.
“After watching ye help others and seeing what you do I find that it does,” Brae replied earnestly. “I would like to learn more.”
Exchanging looks with Beitris, he knew they both thought the same thing. Brae could be her replacement. Camden’s new apprentice.
Beitris clapped. “That is grand news. My cousin requires much more help than I can give.”
At the comment, Brae looked to Camden. “I owe ye my life, anything I can do to help would never be enough to pay my debt.”
“It is my duty to see to the well-being of the people of Tokavaig,” Camden said and meaning it. “If ye decide it is what ye wish to do, then ensure it is for others, not me. If ye truly feel the call, then I would be very pleased.”
Beitris stood and walked closer, her eyes narrowed as she looked Camden over. “I am glad to see ye looking more rested. I best be on my way.” Patting his shoulder, she retrieved the healer’s box and left.
The rest of the day passed quickly, with people stopping by for herbs, or for treatment, or just to talk. Camden took time to teach Brae with each interaction, and the young man seemed to absorb every word.
By the time the sun lowered on the horizon, it had been a full day. They ate dinner, each in their own thoughts.
“Do ye plan to try again with yer family?” Camden asked.
Brae shook his head. “Nay. I dinnae believe I will ever be welcome.” There was still a note of sadness in his tone. It would take time before Brae could speak of it without it tearing him apart. Betrayal was something best left behind, but it took patience.
“Then ye will remain here,” Camden told him.
After Brae went to bed, Camden lowered to a chair in front of the hearth, his thoughts returning to Anne. What an interesting turn of events. The quiet beautiful woman was prominent in his thoughts.
Of course, it was possible, that seeing a very naked Anne had been a stark reminder of how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
When morning came, Camden opened his eyes slowly rolled to his side then groaned at recalling the night before. He’d gone to bed, frustrated, he’d pleasured himself.
At recalling it, his cock hardened and he closed his eyes. It wouldn’t do for his body to have this reaction each time he thought of Anne. He resisted the urge, and, with an annoyed grunt, he pushed from the bed, washed and dressed, then tore the linens from the bed.