The Highlander's Bride(18)
He jumped up. “Don’t go out—”
She smiled and wiggled her fingers in a wave before closing the door on him.
The immediate sting of the snow felt refreshing against the heat of her cheeks. She breathed deep of the cold air, taking in great gulps. She’d needed to place distance between the Scotsman and her. He was a calculating warrior and a foe not to be underestimated. He had found what he assumed was her weakness, and would prey on it in hopes of gaining command of the situation.
As much as she wished to experience a few moments of passion, she couldn’t chance losing control of their bargain. It was imperative that she reached her home and settled this matter with her father, which came before anything else.
A chill raced through her, and she looked at the caldron hanging from her hand and was surprised to see that it was half full. The snow was falling heavier than when they first arrived at the cottage. She hoped Cullen was right. She hoped it would end and that the morning sun would chase the remnants of the snowstorm away.
Before she could turn to enter the cottage, the door was flung open and she was yanked inside.
“What is the matter with you, going out in a blinding snowstorm?”
She held up the caldron. “Melted snow will provide us with water.” It was a good excuse and one he couldn’t argue with.
His grip tightened on her arm and his eyes narrowed. “Until my son is returned safely to me you will refrain from placing yourself in danger. Do I make myself clear?”
“I will see your son safe no matter what it takes.”
His hand dropped off her and he stared at her strangely. “Why? He is nothing to you, yet you fiercely protect him.”
She shook her head in disbelief and made a flourish of ridding herself of her cloak and arranging the caldron by the hearth to heat before she even considered supplying him with an answer.
Cullen grew impatient and grabbed hold of her again, propelling her to the bed and forcing her to sit alongside him. “There is something you haven’t told me.”
He certainly was perceptive.
“What is it? Tell me.”
She had told no one of it. It was a secret best kept a secret. “There is nothing to tell,” she said firmly.
He took hold of her chin and forced her eyes on his. “No, there is something there.”
She pulled her chin free. “You want something to be there. I did what was right and nothing more, and I continue to do what is right.”
“By forcing me to wed and bed you?”
“For a brief time only.”
“Right,” Cullen said with a nod. “A brief time only.” He stood and stripped his shirt off. “Let’s get the brief bedding done with.”
Chapter 8
“You can kiss me if you’d like, but there will be no consummating our vows tonight,” Sara assured him with a smug smile.
“Are you sure?” Cullen asked. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off my chest.”
Sara stood and splayed her hand over his chest.
“You have a fine chest, strong and thick with muscles.” She stroked her fingers along his flesh, up and down and all around, covering every inch. “I can feel your strength, your power.”
Cullen almost reached out and snatched her hand away, but had he done that, she would have known that her touch affected him, and he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Besides, he didn’t want to believe that he could respond to her. But then, he was a man who had been months without a woman. What had he expected?
Certainly not the heat that scorched his body to life. He felt a traitor to Alaina’s memory. Their love had developed slowly, shyly. Their first kiss was hesitant and unsure, and it had been an ongoing process before they came completely together and finally made love. It had been a beautiful joining, one he would never forget. She was a virgin, and he was gentle and slow with her.
Presently, he wasn’t thinking slow and gentle. He was thinking of hiking up Sara’s skirt, plunging into her, and satisfying his lust, nothing more. It would settle their bargain and settle his need.
She walked around him, running her fingers along his shoulders, down his back, across his waist, and back up again in a playful rhythmic touch.
“You are a fine man,” she said softly. “Few scars mar your skin and I so admire the strength of you.”
Cullen had had enough of her teasing. He grabbed her wrist, shoved her to the bed, and fell down on top of her. She was pinned helplessly beneath him, and he waited for a spark of panic to light in her eyes.
She smiled and aimed for his heart with a single question. “Were you this rough with Alaina?”
He was off her in a flash, spewing a flurry of oaths as he snatched his shirt and slipped it on. “You are nothing like her.”