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Authors: Susan King
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that he was still awake. She felt guilty, for he lay without blanket or jacket, while she had both.
"Are you very cold, sir?" She knew he must be.
"I admit I am wondering what else we can burn," he drawled.
"I am cold, too." She drew a breath. "Would you mind... if we bundled again?"
"Not at all." Hearing a note of relief in his voice, she was glad she had offered. As he came toward her, she felt a lightning stab of anticipation, felt her heart begin to thud.
Crouching, he touched her cheek. "You feel cool."
"I cannot... get warm." Her feet felt like ice. "The chill in here seems worse."
"It does. Must be the weather worsening," he said. He removed his boots and opened the blanket to settle in beside her. They lay face-to-face, and he folded an arm under his head, then slipped his outside arm over her. Spreading his hand open, he rubbed her back in circles. She felt his stockinged feet touch hers, lending her bare feet a little protection.
Closing her eyes, she let her cheek rest on his shoulder, exhausted from fighting the chill and the shuddering of her body ever since she had come in from falling in the stream. She began to press closer.
"Come here, lass," he said, wrapping his arms securely around her. "The air is miserably cold and the plaid is thin for two to share. Miss MacConn, the best hope of heat we have, I fear, is each other, if you do not mind."
She nodded, her shivers easing as he rubbed her back gently. Setting an arm around his waist, she stroked his shoulders and back to bring him some warmth too. Her fingers grazed over the satin backing of his vest, and she felt, under the layered cloth of shirt and vest, the remarkable width of his shoulders and the smooth, hard contour of the muscles along his spine.
When his massaging palm skimmed over her lower back and down to the upper curve of her behind, she drew a quick breath. A feeling stirred in the core of her body, a melting, tingling sensation. She sighed out, wanting more, but he drew his hand slowly upward again to shape and press her shoulder.
Heat gathered between them, and she felt his hand on her head, sweeping over her hair, then down her back. Somehow it did not matter that she was in a stranger's arms, nearly unclothed. She felt as if she had always known him. His physical heat and his caring wrapped around her like another blanket.
As her body began to throb under his gentle caress, she knew that desire had begun to heat her from within—and she wondered if he felt that, too. His touch felt like fire suddenly, burned through the cloth. She began to breathe with him, and every part of her being craved more of his touch.
"Are you still cold?" His voice, low and close, made her shiver, made her close her eyes.
"Aye, a little." Her heart thundered, and as she lay in his arms, she felt passion flutter and stir. She shuddered, but not from the chill any longer. "And you?"
"A little." His breath brushed her cheek, and as she moved her head, his lips touched the corner of her mouth. Her heart pounded, and a rush of desire poured through secret places. She tilted her head in the darkness, and her nose nudged against his.
Sighing, she tipped her head back and let her mouth meet his. So easy, that first touch, so cool and tender. This did not feel wrong, she thought—it felt innocent. Dear God, it felt like she had found heaven. She pulled in a soft breath, opening her lips for more.
His arms tightened around her, and his mouth moved over hers, and suddenly he was kissing her harder, deeper, with such strength and passion that she felt it strike down through her feet. She thought she might melt from the pure bliss of it, feeling as helpless as butter over flame.
Chapter 6
She had never been kissed like that, never. She had not known that it could feel like a fall from a great height or like a pouring of liquid sunshine, hot and splendid. Nor had she realized how desire could spread heat from within.
He claimed that she had saved his
"Are you very cold, sir?" She knew he must be.
"I admit I am wondering what else we can burn," he drawled.
"I am cold, too." She drew a breath. "Would you mind... if we bundled again?"
"Not at all." Hearing a note of relief in his voice, she was glad she had offered. As he came toward her, she felt a lightning stab of anticipation, felt her heart begin to thud.
Crouching, he touched her cheek. "You feel cool."
"I cannot... get warm." Her feet felt like ice. "The chill in here seems worse."
"It does. Must be the weather worsening," he said. He removed his boots and opened the blanket to settle in beside her. They lay face-to-face, and he folded an arm under his head, then slipped his outside arm over her. Spreading his hand open, he rubbed her back in circles. She felt his stockinged feet touch hers, lending her bare feet a little protection.
Closing her eyes, she let her cheek rest on his shoulder, exhausted from fighting the chill and the shuddering of her body ever since she had come in from falling in the stream. She began to press closer.
"Come here, lass," he said, wrapping his arms securely around her. "The air is miserably cold and the plaid is thin for two to share. Miss MacConn, the best hope of heat we have, I fear, is each other, if you do not mind."
She nodded, her shivers easing as he rubbed her back gently. Setting an arm around his waist, she stroked his shoulders and back to bring him some warmth too. Her fingers grazed over the satin backing of his vest, and she felt, under the layered cloth of shirt and vest, the remarkable width of his shoulders and the smooth, hard contour of the muscles along his spine.
When his massaging palm skimmed over her lower back and down to the upper curve of her behind, she drew a quick breath. A feeling stirred in the core of her body, a melting, tingling sensation. She sighed out, wanting more, but he drew his hand slowly upward again to shape and press her shoulder.
Heat gathered between them, and she felt his hand on her head, sweeping over her hair, then down her back. Somehow it did not matter that she was in a stranger's arms, nearly unclothed. She felt as if she had always known him. His physical heat and his caring wrapped around her like another blanket.
As her body began to throb under his gentle caress, she knew that desire had begun to heat her from within—and she wondered if he felt that, too. His touch felt like fire suddenly, burned through the cloth. She began to breathe with him, and every part of her being craved more of his touch.
"Are you still cold?" His voice, low and close, made her shiver, made her close her eyes.
"Aye, a little." Her heart thundered, and as she lay in his arms, she felt passion flutter and stir. She shuddered, but not from the chill any longer. "And you?"
"A little." His breath brushed her cheek, and as she moved her head, his lips touched the corner of her mouth. Her heart pounded, and a rush of desire poured through secret places. She tilted her head in the darkness, and her nose nudged against his.
Sighing, she tipped her head back and let her mouth meet his. So easy, that first touch, so cool and tender. This did not feel wrong, she thought—it felt innocent. Dear God, it felt like she had found heaven. She pulled in a soft breath, opening her lips for more.
His arms tightened around her, and his mouth moved over hers, and suddenly he was kissing her harder, deeper, with such strength and passion that she felt it strike down through her feet. She thought she might melt from the pure bliss of it, feeling as helpless as butter over flame.
Chapter 6
She had never been kissed like that, never. She had not known that it could feel like a fall from a great height or like a pouring of liquid sunshine, hot and splendid. Nor had she realized how desire could spread heat from within.
He claimed that she had saved his
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