Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(83)

A long sigh escaped her. “I suppose I should go back before the storm worsens.”

Ruark’s lips brushed her temple and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Stay ‘til dawn,” he breathed against her ear. “ ’Twill be past by then. Let me hold you for a few hours more.”

Shanna turned her face so her lips might meet his, and their mouths played with increasing warmth as she whispered, “But you’ll need your rest. What of the morrow? You have to work.”

“I’ll manage.” His mouth became insistent. “Stay. Will you?”

Shanna nodded slightly, and her voice was muffled beneath his kisses. “Aye, ‘til dawn.”

The storm rattled against the window, and together they watched while the heavens played out their fiery dances and tiny twinkling stars appeared between the racing clouds.

The chimes of the clock in the hall sounded the hour of four, and Ruark came sharply awake, aware that Shanna lay curled against him, sound asleep. Gently he kissed her, urging her to wake as he spoke her name. She moaned sleepily, slipping a silken arm about his neck. His mouth lightly caressed the softly parted lips as he murmured huskily, “Come, love, there’s no help for it. I’ll take you back.”

Searching in the dark, Ruark struck a flint to flame, then lit a candle which blazed and illuminated the room. He rose and went around the bed, collecting her clothes from the floor. Shanna carefully pulled the sheet around her, sitting up on the edge of the bed, and her eyes avoided him as he handed her the garments.

“Will you put your breeches on?” she requested softly as she stared down at her hands folded primly in her lap. She threw him a quick, furtive look and shrugged at his questioning gaze. “You seem so naked standing there.”

Her gaze flicked down him then fled completely. She felt awkward, conscious of him watching her while he waited for her to continue. Pointedly keeping her eyes toward the window, she spoke in a rush.

“I don’t think you are very modest. You—you seem so casual about it all.”

Ruark’s brow twisted dubiously as he studied the heightened color of her cheeks. Would he ever understand her moods? But he relented to her request and donned his breeches.

“Madam, as you should remember,” he said as he fastened them, “ ‘tis most difficult making love fully clothed, and I for one prefer it more intimate. I fear you’ll have to get used to seeing me in the altogether. A bride can only claim shyness for so long.”

The green eyes were wide as they turned on him. “You don’t believe this can continue?”

Ruark frowned at her. “And why, madam, should I believe otherwise?”

Shanna came abruptly to her feet, dropping the sheet to the floor, and began dressing herself, oblivious to her own nakedness and its warming effect on Ruark.

“This thing—last night—it just happened,” Shanna hotly insisted. “It must not continue, for your sake as well as mine. Can you not be satisfied that the bargain is done? Must you be a rutting knave who’s always lusting and never appeased? If you were a gentleman—”

Ruark’s burst of laughter halted the flow of words abruptly, and Shanna spun around, her eyes flashing with indignant sparks.

“How quickly you chasten me, as if you’re sorely set upon. You can hardly blame me for the whole of what happened last night, madam. And there you stand, all soft and tempting and naked. Then you rebuke me for staring. Fickle woman,” he teased. “You would taunt me and reject me like all those other men you’ve led about with your silken looks.”

“Ooohh!” Shanna fumed and hurriedly snatched her garments on. “You’re despicable!”

“Do you think so, madam?” Ruark took her in his arms, kissing her hair, her cheek, and caressing her lips with his own. He pressed her back upon the bed, and his mouth traveled downward to where her blouse left the higher curves of her breasts bare, then went lower still to venture the crest. Shanna held her breath, and the fires of passion again began to flare within her. A touch, a kiss, a look, and he could rouse her. What madness was this?

“Your heart beats much too swiftly for you to claim disinterest, my love.”

Her lips trembled as he claimed them fiercely with his own.

“Promise to meet me later,” he breathed.

“I cannot. Do not ask.”

“I ask.”

“Nay, I cannot. I must get home, Ruark. Let me go.” Shanna’s head swam dizzily beneath the assault of his kisses, and her voice became weaker. “Please—Ruark—”

“You’ve set your mind to torment me,” he sighed.