Read Online Desiring the Highlander by Michele Sinclair - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michele Sinclair
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Instinct caused her to grab the closest thing to her and leap to her feet.
Waving the half-rotted stick around, Ellenor demanded, “Who goes there? Tell me now or I will scream. I have three enormous Highlanders traveling with me, so I suggest you think your plans over again before you take another step.”
Cole grabbed the waving stick and, with a single twist, plucked it from her grasp. “So it is now we three who are traveling with you , is it?”
He had been prepared for a spicy retort or to chase her if she chose to run away, but he had not expected the woman to throw herself—weeping hysterically—into his arms.
“Cole, thank God, it’s you.”
An unexpected shudder went through him. His name echoed in the black stillness as she mumbled it again and again. The sound of it seemed to ease her fears. He tried to remain indifferent, telling himself that she didn’t know what she was doing or saying, but found it impossible as her slim body melded to his.
“Aye, lass, it’s me,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her thick, tangled mane. Had he really forgotten how wonderful a woman’s body could feel, or was Ellenor’s embrace so very different from every other he had known?
“I…was so scared. I was lost and…” Ellenor’s voice caught in her throat as she became aware of their tight embrace. She was clinging to him and he was comforting her. His hands were in her hair and his huge frame practically engulfed her own, holding her gently to him.
And the last thing she wanted was to pull away.
“You were running away,” Cole finished for her.
“No,” Ellenor mumbled into his tunic, followed by a sniffle. “I was at first, but I haven’t been for some time. I was trying to get back to you.”
Cole could not recall a single time a woman had ever come to him, let alone embraced him, for comfort. He had been told he was cold, menacing. Yet, this woman—someone who feared men—was crushing herself to him, burying her head into his shoulder.
The fiery, hot-blooded creature from this afternoon had a vulnerable side Cole was sure she let very few see. He had no idea why Ellenor trusted him, but for some reason she did. The resulting abrupt need to protect her was so strong, so unexpected, his mind floundered and his body took over.
His arms stole around her and gently held her to him, rocking her, soothing her. In return, her soft feminine curves arched into him, seeking his touch. The rapid rise and fall of her chest pressed her breasts against him, and he could feel the pulse in her neck pounding against his skin.
And then the warmth of her body was gone.
Ellenor pulled away, startled by her reaction…and his. The man hated her, didn’t he? She hated him, didn’t she? Unconsciously she smoothed back her unruly tawny curls as if her hair were brushed and styled and frantically sought for something to say. “I…could use some water.”
Cole told himself the feeling that had swept over him when she broke off their embrace was relief. Comforting women was not something he had practice with, and if asked, he would say proudly he hoped never to be as well versed in the activity as his two older brothers. And yet…it was she, not he, who ended their contact and that needled him. He was tempted to pull her back into his arms just so he could prove to her and himself he was just as impervious to their touch.
Instead, Cole reached out and took her hand in his. “Come with me. There’s a small stream by the campsite.” She didn’t resist and he pretended not to notice how delicate her wrist was.
A half hour later, Ellenor cursed as she stared into the moonlit water trickling through her fingers. The stream was barely deep enough for her to cup her hands. Just as she had been warned, bathing was out of the question. This pitiful brook was probably the very reason the infuriating man had chosen where to camp. Thick woods and a stream that was no more than ankle deep. He wanted
Waving the half-rotted stick around, Ellenor demanded, “Who goes there? Tell me now or I will scream. I have three enormous Highlanders traveling with me, so I suggest you think your plans over again before you take another step.”
Cole grabbed the waving stick and, with a single twist, plucked it from her grasp. “So it is now we three who are traveling with you , is it?”
He had been prepared for a spicy retort or to chase her if she chose to run away, but he had not expected the woman to throw herself—weeping hysterically—into his arms.
“Cole, thank God, it’s you.”
An unexpected shudder went through him. His name echoed in the black stillness as she mumbled it again and again. The sound of it seemed to ease her fears. He tried to remain indifferent, telling himself that she didn’t know what she was doing or saying, but found it impossible as her slim body melded to his.
“Aye, lass, it’s me,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her thick, tangled mane. Had he really forgotten how wonderful a woman’s body could feel, or was Ellenor’s embrace so very different from every other he had known?
“I…was so scared. I was lost and…” Ellenor’s voice caught in her throat as she became aware of their tight embrace. She was clinging to him and he was comforting her. His hands were in her hair and his huge frame practically engulfed her own, holding her gently to him.
And the last thing she wanted was to pull away.
“You were running away,” Cole finished for her.
“No,” Ellenor mumbled into his tunic, followed by a sniffle. “I was at first, but I haven’t been for some time. I was trying to get back to you.”
Cole could not recall a single time a woman had ever come to him, let alone embraced him, for comfort. He had been told he was cold, menacing. Yet, this woman—someone who feared men—was crushing herself to him, burying her head into his shoulder.
The fiery, hot-blooded creature from this afternoon had a vulnerable side Cole was sure she let very few see. He had no idea why Ellenor trusted him, but for some reason she did. The resulting abrupt need to protect her was so strong, so unexpected, his mind floundered and his body took over.
His arms stole around her and gently held her to him, rocking her, soothing her. In return, her soft feminine curves arched into him, seeking his touch. The rapid rise and fall of her chest pressed her breasts against him, and he could feel the pulse in her neck pounding against his skin.
And then the warmth of her body was gone.
Ellenor pulled away, startled by her reaction…and his. The man hated her, didn’t he? She hated him, didn’t she? Unconsciously she smoothed back her unruly tawny curls as if her hair were brushed and styled and frantically sought for something to say. “I…could use some water.”
Cole told himself the feeling that had swept over him when she broke off their embrace was relief. Comforting women was not something he had practice with, and if asked, he would say proudly he hoped never to be as well versed in the activity as his two older brothers. And yet…it was she, not he, who ended their contact and that needled him. He was tempted to pull her back into his arms just so he could prove to her and himself he was just as impervious to their touch.
Instead, Cole reached out and took her hand in his. “Come with me. There’s a small stream by the campsite.” She didn’t resist and he pretended not to notice how delicate her wrist was.
A half hour later, Ellenor cursed as she stared into the moonlit water trickling through her fingers. The stream was barely deep enough for her to cup her hands. Just as she had been warned, bathing was out of the question. This pitiful brook was probably the very reason the infuriating man had chosen where to camp. Thick woods and a stream that was no more than ankle deep. He wanted
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