The Highlander's Forbidden Bride(27)
Ronan woke alone in bed, pleased that he didn’t find Carissa in his arms. Then realizing she wasn’t in bed, he bolted up to look around the single room. She was nowhere. He jumped out of bed and dressed quickly.
He didn’t know if he was the fool for thinking she wouldn’t attempt an escape, or she was the fool for even thinking she could survive such horrid weather. He mumbled several oaths as he pulled on his boots and just as he was about to grab his cloak and rush out the door, it opened.
He took firm hold of it, the wind trying to force entrance as Carissa stumbled in with a large cauldron of snow. After shutting the door, he grabbed the cauldron from her, setting it in the hearth.
“It’s brutal out there,” she said, her teeth chattering as she unsuccessfully tried to untie her cloak.
Ronan was appalled to see how red and cramped her hands were and he quickly offered his assistance and undid her ties. He hung her cloak on the peg by the door, then returned to take her hands gently in his.
They felt like ice, and she cringed when he touched them.
“You should not have gone out there,” he scolded, and hurried her to sit in the rocking chair in front of the hearth. He then continued to gently rub warmth back into her hands.
“I wish to wash myself from head to toe,” she said, her teeth still chattering.
His tone continued to scold, though not sharply. “You should have waited for me to wake.”
She smiled. “Since you snored heavily, I didn’t expect you to wake anytime soon.”
“I snore?” he asked, surprised, while concentrating on her fingers. They were long and slim for one so petite, and though the cold had taken a harsh bite, her flesh warmed to his touch and slowly grew silky soft.
“Not all the time,” she said.
Gently and methodically, he worked on the stiff joints, massaging heat back into each individual finger. Speech lapsed between them while he continued to rub and stroke her delicate flesh.
It heated further with every stroke, and the more soft and pliable her flesh became, the more he wanted to continue to touch her. He even extended his massage up along her arm, slipping his fingers under the sleeve of her blouse and kneading the supple flesh to further chase the chill.
He moved his body in closer, and as his fingers moved past her breast, he slowed, allowing the sides of them to brush dangerously close. Though her soft wool blouse prevented him from feeling her plush breasts, just the thought of them hardened his loins.
He turned his head, not realizing how close their faces were, and was startled by the surging passion in her blue eyes, and the plumpness of her moist lips. And for a moment, a sheer moment of utter madness, he was tempted to kiss her.
The sudden realization was like a sharp slap in the face and he sprang off his haunches to stand a distance away from her, saying, “Let the flames do the rest.”
“The flames will only heat me more,” she said with a sultry passion that had his loins growing tauter with desire.
He silently told himself that the problem was simply that he had gone too long without a woman. He needed to release his pent-up passion and be done with it. But he’d be damned if he was going to release it between the legs of the woman responsible for Hope’s death.
“I could satisfy you.”
Her whispery voice conjured up images of her rising naked over him and riding him until he burst with pleasure.
He shook away the tempting pictures and gathered his wits. “I have no doubt you could since you obviously inherited your father’s salacious appetite.”
“Then why not taste?” she offered.
“I believe it would be too bitter to my liking.”
She laughed. “Or perhaps the taste would be so intoxicating you could not get enough of it.”
“I knew such an intoxicating taste once, and I relished it.” He shook his head. “And never will I know it again, for I will never love anyone as I love Hope.”
They both turned silent for a time until Carissa finally stood.
“While the snow melts and heats the water, I’ll prepare the morning meal, then I intend to wash myself from head to toe, so if you prefer not to see me naked, I suggest you find something to keep you distracted.”
Ronan moved out of her way, brushing quickly past her to take refuge in the rocking chair. She was challenging him, and it galled him to wonder if it was one challenge he’d have a hard time winning.
Breakfast was a silent affair and over much too soon for Ronan’s liking. There truly wasn’t anything that would keep him distracted. He couldn’t go and collect extra logs from the stack outside without causing a chill while she washed. He was left with one option, and he took it.