The Highlander's Bride(20)
“Do you have sisters or brothers?”
“A sister, Teresa.” Sara grinned. “We were inseparable growing up. After she took a husband, Shamus, a man she had long been sweet on, and whom I think is wonderful for her, we didn’t spend as much time together. But we manage to see each other often enough. She lives on a farm not far from the keep.”
“You haven’t mentioned your mother.”
“She passed many years ago, when I was twelve. Many say I resemble her, though they’re quick to point out that I was endowed with my father’s audacious nature.”
“Then by the time we reach your home I will know what to expect from your father,” Cullen said.
Sara chuckled and shook her head. “I am not all like my father. He can be sly and secretive.”
“Not so you?”
She gasped dramatically. “I am stunned that you should even ask that of me.”
Cullen had to laugh. “Forgive the implication and thanks for the insight.”
“How can you be so sure it is insight, if you believe me sly and secretive?”
“I believe I should add manipulative to the list.”
“What of your list?” she asked.
She was a quick one, and Cullen told himself he needed to remember that. “We’ll work on mine another time. Right now, I think it would be a good idea for us to get some sleep. If the snow abates before morning we’ll be able to get an early start.”
Cullen retrieved the other blanket and with some maneuvering, they settled into bed together. It was a tight squeeze. They could only manage to occupy the bed if they rested side by side. Cullen took the side closest to the wall with Sara’s back planted firmly to his front. He kept his arm wrapped around her to make certain she didn’t slip off the bed.
His cheek rested against her hair and he favored the sweet scent of her silky curls. It reminded him of freshly bloomed spring flowers. He didn’t mind the feel of her either. It actually felt good to be wrapped around a woman and though he would have preferred her to be Alaina, that wasn’t possible.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Surprisingly yes.”
“You enjoy sleeping next to me.”
“Actually flat up against you,” she amended with a wiggle.
Her tight bottom was pushed flat up against him all right and fit him with snug perfection. He took a breath and steeled himself not to respond. If he did, she’d feel it.
She moved again, innocently enough, but any movement was too intimate.
He tightened his arm around her waist, flung his leg over hers and whispered in her ear, “Lie still or I’ll bed you fast enough.”
Sara stiffened against him, which didn’t help him any since it forced her bottom to press harder against him.
He groaned.
Sara moaned.
The next thing he felt was Sara’s hand wandering down near his leg or was it her leg her fingers reached for when—
“Ow!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pinch you,” Sara said frantically.
“Then whom did you mean to pinch, yourself?” he hissed in her ear.
“Yes,” she said on a sorrowful moan.
Chapter 9
“I’m not going to ask why,” Cullen said.
“That’s good, since I don’t intend to explain,” Sara said, annoyed. She had gotten so hot and bothered feeling the length of him against her, smelling the earthy scent of him and feeling content in his arms, that if she hadn’t accidentally pinched him, she’d have attacked him. And that wouldn’t do since he’d already assumed she wanted him. Besides, with so much talk of Alaina, she was feeling guilty about having forced him to bed her, let alone forced him to wed her.
“You are a strange one,” he whispered in her ear.
“That I am,” she agreed, though if she was not mistaken, it sounded as if he admired her for it. “We should sleep.”
His yawn agreed, and while she felt his body go limp and a slight snore drift from his lips, she remained wide awake, her mind lost in a clutter of thoughts. Two days she had known this man she called husband, yet surprisingly, she felt as if she’d known him many years. Hour by hour he had become more familiar to her, and she admired and respected what she’d learned about him.
Guilt continued to weigh heavily upon her. Here was a man who searched for his son after losing the most precious love of his life, and she forced him to marry her.
But hadn’t God sent him to her? She’d prayed so very hard, and hadn’t He answered her prayers? Who was she to question the wisdom of the Heavens? Cullen had probably prayed as hard to find his son as she to find a husband. And while she would have accepted whatever man was sent, he would have accepted whatever was necessary to find his son.