She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “The river,” she managed, her voice less than a whisper. “There was an accident.” She took a step toward him, but stumbled. Warm hands closed around her upper arms. Her eyes slid shut as she reveled in the blessed heat from his touch.
“Ach, you’re freezing.” His voice caressed her ear as his hands slid up and down her arms. “Are there more of you out there then? Should I go to them?”
She was so cold her teeth were chattering, but she struggled to find her voice. “No.” She shook her head so hard her bones rattled, her mind tumbling, past and present all mixed together as one. “There’s no one. Not anymore. They’re all gone.” She paused, looking up into the crystalline blue of his eyes, her fingers gripping his shirt. “Promise… promise you won’t leave me, too.”
“I promise,” he said, his gaze clear and steady, his hands warm against her skin as he stroked her arms. “I’m no’ going to leave you. I just need to get you warm.”
She nodded, the gesture almost lost as a series of shudders wracked through her body. The room started to whirl.
“Come on then, lass, stay with me,” he urged, his eyes filled with concern, his grip tightening on her arms. “Tell me your name.”
She opened her mouth to answer his question, but words wouldn’t come. And to be honest, she couldn’t remember what he’d asked her anyway, and then everything started to go dark. Like slipping into the velvety softness of a blanket.
Her name, she remembered as she struggled to hold onto consciousness. That’s what he’d asked her.
“Lily,” she whispered as the darkness swallowed her whole.
4
Bram caught the lass as she fell, wondering where in God’s name she had come from. He had no doubt that his enemies would stoop to any level to catch him off guard, even sending a woman to do their dirty work.
But this woman, Lily, was soaked to the bone and a knot high on her forehead was already purpling from what looked to be a pretty substantial blow. He felt along her hairline and located a deep cut. That accounted for the bleeding. But it seemed to have stopped and for the moment he had bigger problems.
She was shaking violently, her body almost spasming as her muscles contracted. He’d seen this before. Exposure to this kind of cold, wearing nothing but what looked to be her shift, was dangerous. He could only suppose what kinds of hell she’d been through to arrive at the cottage in such a condition. An accident, she’d said.
She was wearing next to nothing and her slippers, though made of fine leather, were hardly adequate for traveling in the rough terrain that surrounded Duncreag, especially in the midst of a storm like this one. ’Twas possible she lived or worked at the tower. But her hands were soft and her skin unmarred. And thesilver bracelet she wore on her arm had been made by the finest of craftsmen.
Nay, despite her state of undress, this was not a peasant. This was a lady. And not one from around here, if he were to have to place a wager on it. He touched the base of her throat with one finger, satisfied to feel the rush of her blood. She lived, but if he didn’t get her dry and warm, there was still a chance her condition could turn for the worst. He’d seen people die from exposure in a storm like this.
As if to echo his concern, she moaned and another shudder ripped through her. It was important to get her warm as quickly as possible. He glanced around the cottage. While it was well enough equipped, it was not built for warmth and even with the fire burning, the small room was still cold.
The best way to warm a body quickly was contact with another body. And although he was not the kind of man to lie with a woman without her willing participation, he could see no other course of action.
He walked over to the pallet that served as a bed. A plump mattress sat on a wooden frame covered by a sheet of linen beneath a blanket made from animal fur. Between that and his own body heat, he should be able to help her regain her own. Trying not to think about the softness of her skin or the sweet slope of her breasts, he peeled off the wet clothing, stopping with the odd underthings she wore, slips of colored silk that barely covered her not inconsiderable assets.
He felt his body awakening and forced himself to ignore the growing urgency. This was a woman in trouble, not a barmaid wanting nothing more than a roll in the hay with the laird-to-be.
He swallowed a laugh, the irony of his thoughts not lost on him. Whatever this woman had been through, he could at least in part relate. Less than a fortnight ago he had been the young master. Today he was a hunted man without a clan.
Lily moaned again, but didn’t open her eyes. Her breathing was quick and shallow now, as if the cold were pulling it from her body. Bram carefully laid her on the bed. Her lips trembled as her body reacted to the loss of his heat. Quickly he stripped off his garments and climbed onto the bed, and after covering them both with the fur, he pulled her close against his body, her back curled against his chest.
He rested his chin against her hair, the smell of spring flowers teasing him with familiarity. It was almost as if he’d held her like this many times before.
Perhaps he, too, had been addled by the storm.
He smiled and pulled her closer, willing the warmth of his body into hers. He was fairly certain that the bump on her head wasn’t dangerous, but unlike his mother, he had none of the healing ways about him.
Lily sighed and nestled into his warmth. And again he was struck by the familiarity of their intimacy. It was almost as if they fit somehow. Two halves of a whole.
He was a bloody romantic fool. She was a lost soul who needed his warmth, nothing more. And he was a man with no room for a woman in his life. Still, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms and legs around her to provide a cocoon of warmth. And even as he sought to give her comfort, she gave it back to him in the soft inhale and exhale of her breathing and the way her fingers curled around his.
For the first time in more days than he cared to remember, he felt at peace—or at least temporarily assuaged. Maybe there was magic afoot tonight, in the wildness of the storm or simply the sweet allure of the woman in his bed. Or maybe he had gone quite mad and this was only a dream. Either way, tomorrow’s sun would banish the mists and whatever fantasy the night might have held.
But for now, in this moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold on.
Lily drifted to consciousness slowly, her first thought that she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so safe and secure. She curled her toes, letting the warmth of the bed seep through her. The fire had died down, the room deep in shadows. Outside she could still hear the rain lashing against the roof and windows. With a sigh, she dug deeper into the warmth, simply luxuriating in the comfort, but then memory returned like a sledgehammer.
The car. The cottage.The man.
