She scrubbed her arms, plucked the soap from where it had sunk, lathered up some more bubbles and set to work on her legs. She froze as she spied the bruises on her inner thighs. Her mouth grew dry and the rose scent lingering in the air seemed to become tinged with sweat and blood. The soap slid from her trembling hands and she splashed water over her face as if it would remove the memory of the Viking’s hands on her. When it still refused to leave, she submerged herself under the water and held herself there for a few moments.
When she broke through the surface, Catriona drew in great breaths and concentrated on calming her racing heart. Gaze fixed on the daylight seeping through the partially closed shutters, she clamped her hands by her side. Even being in a place of safety failed to remove her fears. How was it she felt more safe and secure in Finn’s embrace than in a heavily guarded castle?
The thud in her chest slowed and she continued to suck in steady breaths. How she would overcome this, she knew not, but she had to keep hold of her senses. In such a precarious position, one slip and all could come crumbling down. She shook her head and dragged her hands through her hair. So many uncertainties. So much at stake.
***
Having consumed enough ale to warm his aching limbs, Finn stood beneath the large tapestry on one wall and admired it. “Ye have done a fine job,” he said to Lorna. “But do ye nae think ye should turn yer attentions to—” Finn trailed off as a woman descended the stairs from the upper gallery, footsteps so soft he barely heard them.
He let his gaze linger slowly on her and watched the slight sway of her hips beneath her purple gown. The thud of his heart was almost sickening in its rhythm and his temples throbbed as blood surged through his body.
“By God…” he caught himself whispering when she reached the bottom step and lifted her gaze to his.
Her beauty stole his breath. It was a cool beauty but one of utter perfection. Long, black hair draped over her shoulders in waves that begged to be touched. With the front strands tied back, he had a perfect view of her faultlessly oval shaped face and succulent lips. She hung back, hands clasped tightly in front as if waiting permission to approach but he still noted the divine shape of her lips, the little dip at the top of them. The sort of lips capable of bringing a man to his knees.
The woman from his dreams.
Katelyn was the woman from his dreams. How was it possible and how had he not realised?
Lorna coughed and he jolted, reluctantly dragging his gaze from Katelyn.
The woman in question cautiously approached and Finn dipped his head briefly, spreading a warm grin across his face. Mayhap he disconcerted her as her eyes widened. He almost laughed. He was used to women instantly simpering under such a look but she seemed to view him as if he were a wolf on the prowl.
He had to admit he felt like one. Never before had he seen a woman so spectacular. Even his dreams did her no justice. And to think he had laid next to her with nothing more than a fur between them. How had he not recognised it was she?
“Ye look very well, Katelyn.” He murmured her name and savoured how it rolled on his tongue.
A blush of colour blossomed across her pale cheeks as she inclined her head toward him slowly. “Thank ye, sir. The yarrow root Lorna gave me has done much for my injuries.” A hint of a smile teased her lips. “And a bath does much for a woman’s health.”
“Finn,” he corrected, longing to hear her husky tones utter his name and disappointed by her sudden formality.
“Finn.”
It was as if she had to force the word from her mouth but he almost closed his eyes and groaned as she spoke. Finn took the chance to admire her up close. In a gown of purple silk, she looked resplendent… and far too tempting. Rounded breasts shaped her gown and his palms tingled while he imagined how perfectly they would fill his hands. The swelling on her cheek had all but gone and even the faint bruising could not detract from her beauty.
Katelyn rung her hands and darted her gaze between him and his sister. Dare he hope she was thinking the same? The ache in his body grew and Katelyn was most certainly the source. Finn longed to put a permanent smile on her face. He couldn’t help wonder if a dose of unrestrained loving may well prove to be the best way of doing it. Which was pure folly. She would be in the bed of another man before long.
Her betrothed. Why did he find it so hard to remember that?
Lorna jabbed an elbow lightly in his side and he realised he must have been staring.
“Are ye feeling revived?” Lorna asked.
“Aye, much better, thank ye.”
“Should ye like a tour around? Laird Gillean shall not be with us for several sennights by my reckoning, so this shall be yer home for a while yet.”