Chapter 10 #3
While she was deathly cold, it hadn’t been hard to dissociate himself from the sensation of her naked body molded to his.
But as she warmed, so had he. All that soft, pliant skin plastered against his became impossible to ignore.
He slid his hand down her spine from her nape to the small of her back, savoring the velvet under his fingertips, and the soft curve of her bottom.
Wanting desperately to bring her against him.
To slide deep inside her with long, slow strokes and make her his.
All vestiges of her icy swim were gone. Unconsciously, she rubbed against him, her nipples hardening. Raking his chest and making him instantly hard.
He caressed her again, cupping her bottom, his entire body drumming with temptation.
God, he couldn’t do this. He wanted to touch her all over. Run his hands over every inch of her nakedness and kiss her until she cried out.
But honor held him back. He wouldn’t take advantage of her like this. Not when she was weak. Her body might want him, but she didn’t.
Flora had run from him because she was scared. Scared by what had nearly happened in the laird’s solar. But their bodies were made to come together. Just holding her against him, he could feel it. He knew how good it would be.
With a soft groan, he tore himself from her seductive grasp. Not wanting to be in bed with her when she woke, knowing that his presence would only upset her.
He’d done what he needed to do; the danger had passed. She no longer needed him.
He pulled on a clean shirt, wrapped a fresh plaid around himself, and secured it with his chieftain’s badge.
Turning back to the bed one more time he took in every detail, his heart swelling hard in his chest. Unable to stop himself, he bent down and brushed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Rest, my sweet,” he whispered.
The pale light of dawn stirred her awake.
A soft warmth surrounded her. Flora opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d been wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.
She felt safe. Protected. Burrowing her face into the pillow beside her, she savored the warm scent of myrtle … and something else oddly familiar.
Indeed, she felt the strangest sensation of being somewhere that was both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.
Stretching her arms above her head, she noticed the twinge of aching muscles in her back and arms. She raised her head to look around, but it was so heavy.
Everything was a little foggy, and it took her a moment to realize that she was not in her chamber.
The bed was bigger, for one. A large chair was positioned before the fireplace.
She looked around, noticing the rough, stark furnishings, similar to those in her room.
Unlike her room, however, there was an aumbry for storing clothing, in addition to a large, heavily carved wooden chest before the bed.
The window was much narrower than hers, suggesting that she was perhaps on a lower floor of the keep.
Why wasn’t she in her room, and why was she so thirsty? Her lips were cracked, her mouth dry. She ran her hand along her bare arm, her skin felt so gritty …
All of a sudden, she realized three things at once. She hadn’t drowned, she was in his bed, and she was completely naked. Each was shocking enough, but together they were enough to toss her into a panic.
The sound of the door creaking open didn’t help matters. When she saw who it was, the riot of emotions swirling inside her grew much worse.
“I see you’re awake,” the woman said. “I brought you some broth.”
Flora had the most appalling urge to hide under the covers. Instead, she forced herself to respond. But what did one say to the leman of the man’s bed you’d just woken up in? “Thank you,” was all she could think of.
Seeing the question in Flora’s eyes, the woman explained, “The laird asked that I look in on you.”
“You’re a healer?”
She shrugged. “I have some skill with herbs.”
Among other things, she thought uncharitably.
Bending over Flora, she started her examination. Putting a gentle hand on Flora’s forehead, feeling the pulse at her neck. All of which seemed very strange. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. “What is your name?” the healer asked.
The woman gave her a long look. “You know who I am?”
Flora nodded.
“Seonaid,” she answered.
She started to lift the plaids covering her, but Flora held them tightly, her cheeks on fire. “I’m fine.”
The woman lifted a perfectly arched brow. “Your modesty is wasted on me. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. It is your decision, but you nearly drowned, and then nearly froze to death.”
Flora’s blush intensified. “You don’t understand.” Her voice lowered. “I don’t have any clothes on.”
Seonaid shook her head as if Flora were addled. “You were freezing to death.” At Flora’s obviously perplexed expression, she continued, “You needed the heat of another against you to warm you quickly. ’Twas the only way.”
Flora’s brows gathered together across her nose.
“I don’t understand.…” Her voice fell off, and her eyes widened as comprehension dawned.
The blush was nothing to the mortified heat that spread across her face as her embarrassment got much worse.
Dear God. It was him. It hadn’t been a dream.
How could he take advantage of her like that?
Seonaid must have read her thoughts. Her face flooded with anger. “He saved your life. You should be thanking him instead of worrying about your precious maidenly modesty.”
Flora flinched at the venom in the woman’s voice. And at the knowledge that Seonaid was right. Flora’s moment of misplaced outrage subsided. “I’m sorry, you must think me very ungrateful.” She bit her lip. “It’s just that I don’t remember much of what happened.”
Seonaid peered at her intently. Then apparently deciding that Flora was in earnest, she nodded. “I’m sure the laird will answer your questions when you are feeling better.”
Flora swallowed. The laird. Dear God, what would she do when she saw him? How could she ever look at him again, knowing what he’d done? What he’d seen?
Faint recollections came back to her, making it worse. Images that seemed hazy like a dream, but which she now suspected were very real. Big, strong arms surrounding her. Her cheek pressed against a warm, hard, and very masculine chest.
This time, Flora didn’t argue when the woman continued her examination. She even made Flora wiggle her toes and fingers, and Flora didn’t say a word in protest—though it seemed very silly indeed.
Finally, Seonaid finished her ministrations, handed her a sark that had been left at the foot of the bed, and declared her surprisingly well.
Flora quickly pulled it over her head. The thin linen gave her no small measure of relief.
“I will send up a posset for you to drink. And then you should rest.”
“Thank you,” Flora said, and meant it. Given the circumstances, she was surprised by the woman’s kindness.
Seonaid turned and walked to the door, then hesitated and looked back at Flora. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. The laird did nothing more than warm your body.”
A point she seemed happy to make.
“I know.” And she did. Flora recognized that despite his determination to have her, Lachlan Maclean was too honorable to prey on the weak and helpless. And last night she had been both.
With her hand still on the door, Seonaid asked, “So you’ll be marrying him now?”
Flora drew back, shocked. “No!” She calmed. “I have no intention of marrying anyone.”
Again, Flora got the impression that the woman thought her a fool. As if no woman of sound mind would ever refuse Lachlan Maclean.
“Even after what happened?”
Flora shook her head emphatically. “As you said, it was an emergency. It changes nothing.”
Seonaid gave her an appraising look. “He wants you.”
Flora blushed. “Well, I don’t want him.” But the woman’s sharp gaze read the lie. Flora lifted her chin. “Even if I did, I still would not marry him.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Seonaid said mysteriously.
Neither did Flora. Still, it was odd to have this woman echoing her own thoughts. There was something strange about the laird’s wooing of her. From the beginning, she’d sensed both a calculation and an urgency. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never seen the laird pursue a woman with such intensity. Let alone one who claims not to want him. You are very beautiful, but he has had many beautiful women. I wonder if there is another reason, that is all.”
Initially, she thought the woman felt sorry for her, but now Flora wondered whether Seonaid might have another motive for voicing her suspicions. “Why are you telling me all this?”
She shrugged. “He wants you, but he will not wait forever. He is a very virile man.” The authority in her voice made Flora’s chest ache. “And when he’s done chasing what he cannot have, I’ll be waiting.”
Long after the woman left, Flora heard her voice. And the warning that had twisted Flora’s heartstrings in knots.