Something flared in her eyes. Temper, disbelief, or perhaps even a spark of interest. “You believe you can?”
“Convince you or please you?”
“Both.”
“I shall aim for both.” He made the words a surety. “Especially the pleasing part.”
Touching his ring to the tip of her nose, he added, “As you shall please me.”
Faugh! She would sooner diddle the devil, his demons roared with malicious glee.
Fortunately, their insolence only strengthened his determination, and spurred him to pursue a swifter path to his goal. Such as having her massage the healing ointment onto his flesh.
Now.
He glanced about the shadowy laird’s lug for the little bowl, remembering too late that she’d left the sharp-smelling unguent in the ante-room.
For a long moment, silence hung between them, its heavy pall coating the air. The night must have lengthened, for thick quiet rose from the great hall as well.
Dunlaidir’s occupants, their hunger sated and their thirst quenched, had either sought out their guard posts or laid themselves to rest.
Save two.
And one of the two peered at him with as much doubt peeking out from the blue pools of her luminous eyes as he kept secreted under lock and key in the deepest pit of his soul.
“You think I shall please you?” Her hushed words came so soft Marmaduke scarce believed he’d heard them.
But he had, and they melted his heart.
“I know you shall.” He lifted her chin, held her gaze. “Never doubt it.”
* * *
Caterine swallowed,her heart beating faster.I do not want to consider such matters at all, her good sense warned, ignoring the shivery sensations spilling through her. The rich timbre of his voice as well as the portent of his words wrapped her in a wondrously languid warmth.
He made her feel wanted.
And almost at ease enough to relax, enjoy pleasure.
Had a man ever looked at her with such an intensely focused expression? She knew the answer, felt another ripple of awareness as he traced his fingers along her cheek, then eased his hand around the back of her neck. His caress, light as a summer breeze, sent more such tingles fanning through her.
Sensations she’d only known long-ago inklings of, but never the full glory, till now.
Then, somehow he was standing even closer, his gaze disturbingly knowing. How was it that with a mere look and the feather-light touch of his fingertips, he wooed her senses and stirred such pleasurable flutters low in her belly?
Something leapt inside her. Possibilities. But she pushed them aside, determined to worry about such things later.
For now…
She closed her eyes, reveled in his warmth and the bracing scents clinging to him: the fresh tang of the wind-whipped sea and cold, salty air, leather and clean, polished steel.
A hint of wood-smoke, a pleasing note of sandalwood, and the magic of starry nights and moonbeams.
Starry nights and moonbeams?
Her eyes snapped open.
She bit her lower lip, and tried not to inhale.
