“How’s your ankle?” She managed to keep her voice steady, even though her heart was threatening to jump into her throat and choke her.
“Better without the boots,” he sighed, drawing the last one off. “But no swelling at all. Just a bit achy.” He chuckled. “Whatever Mrs Smithers put into her poultice certainly worked.”
“Probably the arnica,” murmured Willow, sliding under the covers and lying on the very edge of the bed.
She felt it dip as Harry did the same.
It wasn’t quite as firm as it looked, and she slid toward the middle as his weight settled. Clinging to the edge of the mattress with her fingertips, she sighed.
“Let go, Willow. I told you that you could trust me.”
After a battle with her conscience that lasted all of ten seconds, she obeyed, and found herself sliding easily up against Harry’s warmth.
“Much better,” he said, pulling her back up against his front.
“Oh,” she murmured. “You’re nice and warm.”
“You’re not…hang on.” He shifted slightly, bringing his thighs to rest alongside her own. It was as if she sat on his lap, only lying down.
It was, not to put too fine a point on it, one of the most delightful experiences she could imagine.
“Better?” He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her tightly.
“Mmm.” She nodded, uncertain of how to respond. This was all so…so…unexpected.
“It’s funny,” he murmured. “I never imagined I’d be in this situation with you.”
“Neither did I,” she answered.
“And yet it seems as if destiny or the Fates had other plans for us.” He moved a little, and she felt a soft kiss on her bare neck.
“Harry…” It was a whisper, a plea, and a murmur of pleasure, all wrapped up in one word.
“Willow,” he murmured back. “I like touching you, holding you, feeling your warmth.”
She caught her breath as he tightened his grip, bringing their bodies firmly against each other. This wasn’t a time for lies or maidenly modesty.
“I like it too.” A mere whisper, but he heard her.
“Good, because I’m going to be touching you a lot.”
“You are?”
“Yes. But I’ll not frighten you or do anything you don’t want. Do you understand? You tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”
“Your word on that?”
His arm moved, and she felt his hand sliding the strap of her chemise off her shoulder. And there…once again, the touch of his lips. “You have my word. All you have to say is stop…”
Willow took a breath, surrendered to her own yearnings, and snuggled her back as close to him as she could. Waves of desire swept all other thoughts aside. “All right, Harry. All right. If you’ll do one thing for me?”
“Name it.”
“Unfasten your shirt. I want to feel my skin against yours.”
*~~*~~*
He was hard as granite, and her words didn’t help. But to hear them touched not only his desire, but his heart. This young woman was trusting him after nursing him and caring for his injuries. Now she wanted a new experience with him…
