Fine, manly splendor fully aroused. And every bit as imposing as his jesting men had implied.
Caterine gulped, her heart thudding.
Looking more real, more full-bodied and whole, than a dream image aught do, the Sassunach took a slow sip of wine, then lifted his chalice in silent toast to someone she couldn’t see. His expression held a wealth of some emotion she couldn’t define for she’d never seen such a look on a man’s face.
A look her heart recognized even if she didn’t.
It was the manifestation of infinite adoration.
Oflove, shining, pure, and true.
Something she’d doubted existed and might be tempted to believe was possible, were she looking at a flesh and blood man and not peering deep into the darkest corners of her own soul.
There, where her hidden desires resided.
* * *
Caterine sat frozenon her stool in her late husband’s chamber, her gaze locked on the magnificentvision-manbefore her. She didn’t know what was more astonishing, that she’d somehow conjured Niall in the window glass, then her own tear-filled eyes, and now this image of the English knight, or that some never-before-awakened part of her recognized the stirrings inside her for what they apparently were…
Feminine need.
“Mercy me.” She pressed a hand to her breast, felt the trembling of her fingers.
Yearning consumed her, a need so intense she ached with wanting. Her throat tightened even while the rest of her seemed to soften and grow warm.
But then another great peal of thunder and a silvery flash of lightning shattered the image. As if the raging elements meant to mock her, the storm seemed to hold its breath, going so silent she could almost hear the rushing of her own blood.
That, and a low rumbling too near to be lingering echoes of thunder.
No, not rumbles…
She heard growls.
And by the time the realization dawned, Leo’s snarls erupted in a series of sharp little dog barks. Hackles raised, he burst from beneath the bed to charge the door, reaching it just as it swung open to revealhim.
Her champion.
In a flash of golden-brown fur, his jaws snapping, Leo pounced on Sir Marmaduke’s ankles. His shrill barks reached an ear-splitting level only to stop abruptly when the tall English knight turned a stern look on him.
With a yelp, Leo streaked back beneath the massive bed. Still shaken, Caterine would’ve cried out and run for cover, too, but her legs proved too leaden to move and her throat seemed stuffed with wool.
Could the man possibly know what foolery her mind had summoned? Worse, the way her body responded?
Dear heavens, she hoped not.
Blessedly, Lachlan gave a low moan then and tossed on the bed, the distraction allowing her time to gather her wits.
She cleared her throat, still not trusting her knees to hold her should she stand. “What are you doing here?” she asked the champion. “I didn’t expect you.”
“In this chamber or beneath your roof?”
Neither, she almost blurted, feeling like a trapped deer.
“You needn’t look so stricken.” He entered the room with confident strides, his broad-shouldered presence overwhelming in the close confines of the solar.
Caterine swallowed, her heart skittering.
Candle shine glinted off the thick mane of his dark hair and spilled across the hard-muscled expanse of his tunic-clad chest. But the flickering light didn’t illuminate his face, and with his features half obscured by shadow, traces of the handsome man he’d once been were hauntingly apparent.
