She tried not to move, fearing she would wake him and her dream would vanish as quickly as a whiff of smoke in the air. A moment, she wanted a moment more, though she would have preferred much longer.
His body suddenly stiffened, and she knew her cherished moment was over. He had awakened and realized that he embraced his enemy.
Chapter 10
Ronan was livid. He had woken to find that it was all a dream. It had all seemed so very real, the scent of apples, her soft body, the silkiness of her hair. But it wasn’t Hope he held in his arms, it was Carissa.
Lord, but he hated her even more at that moment, and himself, for he felt that he betrayed Hope by holding the evil woman in his arms. What had he been thinking last night when he climbed into bed? Why had he even cared that she was cold? She had never cared about him when he was her father’s prisoner. He should have just let her shiver all night.
But then that would make him no better than her.
She stretched full against him, pressing her chest to his and nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. With his eyes shut and the faint scent of apple drifting off her, he could think of nothing but Hope.
Hope, who had been so kind, so loving, so innocent.
Her lips brushed his, and for a moment, a sheer moment, he wished…
“Damn,” he cried, shoving her away and scrambling out of bed. He retrieved his clothes from where he had shed them last night and quickly dressed, grateful he had left his leggings on. He grabbed his cloak from the peg and, with haste, hurried out the door.
The sharp wind slapped him in the face, and he smiled, needing the pointed greeting to bring him back to his senses. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t Carissa who had stirred his passion but his own dream of Hope. And the devious woman that she was probably realized that and took full advantage of it.
He walked to the woodpile, remaining close to the cottage as he knew that it was easy to get lost in such a storm. He retrieved a few logs, hoping Carissa would take the time in his absence to get dressed. He had no desire to see her naked again.
While he wouldn’t mind losing himself in a woman, it wouldn’t be Carissa he would give that pleasure to. And lose himself was all he would do, for he couldn’t, nor would he give any more of himself. Besides, there was nothing left for him to give.
He had lost much during his captivity, but he had lost even more when he had lost Hope. He had lost his ability to love.
With his hands near stiff, he hurried his steps and reluctantly entered the cottage. He busied himself arranging the wood and discarding his cloak before he would even look Carissa’s way.
She smiled at him as she threaded the ties of her blouse closed. “I’ll have you between my legs yet, Highlander.”
“Not likely.”
She walked over to him, her smile spreading and her steps lazy, and ran her hand slowly down his shirt. “You are a challenge.”
He grabbed hold of her hand before it slipped beneath his shirt. “That you will lose.”
She laughed, a throaty laugh that had him tensing. She sounded sinister and sensual all at once, and damn if it didn’t prickle his skin in more ways than one.
“We’ll see, Highlander, we’ll see.”
Ronan never found conversation lagging with Carissa. If he wasn’t asking her questions she was asking him. Whether she was cooking or they were sitting by the fire, they talked.
“Tell me, did you enjoy your time with the mercenaries?” she asked, joining him in front of the fire after the morning meal.
He ignored her question, and instead asked, “Why did you sell me to the mercenaries?”
“What makes you think I sold you? You were my father’s prisoner.”
He silently cursed himself though what did it matter now? Hope was gone. What difference did it make if Carissa learned the truth? “Your slave informed me that it was you who convinced Mordrac to sell me to the mercenaries.”
“I knew she was feeding you information,” Carissa said angrily. “And she could not hide her feelings for you. I believe the poor fool even thought that you would rescue her.” She shook her head and laughed. “How ridiculous of her to think that one man could rescue her from a horde of barbarians, let alone my father.”
“I would have rescued her,” Ronan said.
“Don’t be a fool,” she chided. “There was no way possible for you to have rescued her.”
“I would have,” he insisted adamantly. “There was no way that I intended to leave her there. I was coming for her and nothing—not even Mordrac himself—would have stopped me.”
She stared at him, her blue eyes wide. “You loved her that much?”
“I did. I still do. I’ll never stop loving her.”