A spark of a smile tickled Sara’s mouth and grew. She didn’t have a problem. He would approach her. There’d be no need to seduce Cullen. She’d experience all the kisses and touches she wanted as long as…
Her smile faded.
As long as she didn’t surrender to him until she was ready.
She touched her lips, the throbbing long since dissipated, though they remained sensitive and plumped. If one kiss could almost do her in, how would she be able to keep from surrendering to an onslaught of kisses?
She stood quickly and paced in front of the bed. She would need a shield of sorts. Something she could erect when surrender became imminent. Think, Sara, think, she cautioned as she continued to pace.
She stopped abruptly, and smiled once again. Her mind had often drifted off when she was intent on learning a new skill, and then she’d pay no heed to anything or anyone around her. Her sister had devised a fast way of yanking her out of her musings. Teresa would pinch her hard, and Lord did she feel the sting, but it worked and that was what mattered.
A good hard pinch would do it.
She set the thought in her mind, giving it credence so she could call on it when necessary. With her plan giving her added confidence, she set to work foraging the small cottage for anything that might prove useful.
She found a couple of candle stubs, the wicks barely sufficient to sustain a flame. A small caldron was up-ended in a dark corner, and she placed it by the fireplace, thinking it might be of use for cooking if they were stuck there longer than they hoped to be. That and a broken wooden bowl were her limited finds.
The last occupants of the cottage had thoroughly cleaned it out, leaving nothing but broken scraps behind, except for a single chair and the bed. She gave the bed a glance. It was narrow, barely large enough for two people.
She was far from a tiny woman, and Cullen was certainly a brute of a Scotsman in size and manner. If the two of them could manage to fit on the narrow bed, it would certainly be a tight squeeze.
Sara continued to stare, imagining them together in bed, clothed, of course, pressed tight against each other. She would be able to feel all of him, and he would feel all of her. She shivered, imagining the feel of his warm breath against her bare neck.
“Want me to satisfy your curiosity right now?”
She jumped, flaying her arms as she swung around, smacking Cullen square in the jaw and sending him and his armful of firewood stumbling back to crash against the closed door.
Surprisingly, he managed to hang onto the wood as he caught his balance and kept himself upright. She was shocked at sending him reeling, and even more shocked that she’d been so absorbed in her thoughts as not to hear him enter, or to feel the rush of cold from the open door.
Cullen rubbed his jaw. “You’ve got a mean elbow there.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, hurrying over to him. “You frightened me. I didn’t know you stood behind me.”
She reached out and took the firewood from him.
She was stacking the wood near the fire to dry when he shed his cloak on a peg and went to help her. “It wasn’t intentional,” he said.
She glanced at him. The snow that nearly covered his hair melted rapidly from the heat of the fire and left the dark brown hair to glisten; like the dark rich earth after a refreshing rain, she thought. His cheeks were stained red from the cold, and his lips bore a blue color that warned he needed warmth.
A kiss would warm them.
“I didn’t frighten you on purpose.”
Sara shook her head, realizing she had not responded and so he’d clarified his remark. “I didn’t think you did.”
They stared at each other for several silent minutes, as if wondering what to make of their situation.
She finally broke the silence. “How goes the storm?”
“It continues to rage. My hope is that it will end sometime tonight and the morning sun will rise bright and warm and melt whatever snow has fallen, causing us only a short delay.”
“Snowstorms in early spring usually don’t last long on the ground.”
Cullen shrugged. “We have no choice but to make the most of it, and at least we have shelter. We could be huddled under a tree somewhere. Here we have a warm fire and a bed to huddle in.”
She caught the deliberate, sinful little sneer of his lips. It was a quick flash and then it was gone. Almost as if he wanted her to see it and then perhaps doubt that she had. She decided her best response to his goading was to ignore him.
“Then we will sleep well tonight,” she said, standing and brushing her hands off. She didn’t have to look at him to know his sneer had surfaced once again and he was about ready to provoke her.
She turned with a flourish, grabbed the small caldron she had found, as well as her cloak, and hurried to the door. “Be right back.”