The delicious sounds she made as he pleasured her.
How damned good it felt to be inside her.
He swore under his breath, willing his mind to cease its torture.
Dallan shut his eyes tightly, hoping to blink away the memory of her. He’d managed to live the past six years without her tormenting his every thought. He could continue to do so.
At his outburst, Niamh stood and turned to him. “What is it?” Genuine worry threaded her words. “Did you see someone? Is there danger?”
“Nay,” he answered, finding a tree a good distance away from her. He didn’t trust himself to be near her at the moment.
“Then what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” What could he say? That he’d been so struck by the memory of their lovemaking that he could barely conceal it? Aye, she’d take that well.
Her pale brown brows furrowed. Adorably.
Damnit.
“Is it your shoulder?” she pressed. “Let me take a look.” She rushed over to him, as though he were ready to fall dead to the ground.
“I’m fine.” He moved quickly from the tree, putting even more space between them. “What are you looking for? Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”
It was better than what he’d been doing, anyway.
She stopped, considering him. “Very well.” She pulled a stem out of her basket with several leaves and blackberries on it. “Are you familiar with blackberries?”
“With eating them, aye.”
She gave him a look that, six years ago, would have had him pulling her in for a kiss.
Now, it made him grimace in frustration.
“I need the leaves and whatever berries are left. If you can hunt for these, I can find some of the other herbs I need. They like a lot of light, so they aren’t as common in the deep woods,but you might find a few. I often see them just outside stands of pine.” She walked right up to him, holding out the stem she’d grabbed from her basket.
The smell of lavender—ofher—surrounded him, taking him prisoner and threatening the last shreds of his self-control. He needed to get away from her. Quickly.
After dutifully listening to her explanation of how to identify the plant, he hurried away in search of the nearest stand of pines.
And his sanity.
*
Dallan was behaving…oddly.Niamh couldn’t decide what felt off, so she set about searching for as many of the herbs on her long list as she could find. Unfortunately, with the weather chilling and autumn upon them, she’d have to make it through the winter without many of the staples she normally stocked. She hoped to find a few late bloomers, but it was unlikely she’d forage enough to fully replenish her supply.
The sun hung halfway to the western horizon when Dallan returned with an armful of thorn-covered brambles.
“I should have given you the basket.” She hurried over to take them from him. “Your arms will be scratched.”
The piercing look he gave her left her breathless.
It was the way he always looked before he kissed her.
Niamh no longer wondered at his odd behavior. His chestnut eyes told her everything. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I can handle a few scratches.” His soft reply matched her own.
“Not for the brambles.” She swallowed, pressing on before she lost her nerve. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” So much for not talking about their past.
