His fingers stilled on her calf. So shehadknown. “I saw his fiery eyes” — he kept his answer neutral — “but his ears looked grayish-white to me.”
“Ah well . . . ” She leaned back against the pillows and stared up at the bed’s dark, heavily carved canopy. “Then I guessed rightly. He was indeed a creature of thesaoghal thall.”
“The Yonder World?”
“So I would say, aye.” She plucked at a loose thread on one of the pillows. “Why else would I have seen his telltale red ears?”
Before he could answer, she rushed, “Mytaibhsearachdlet me see him more clearly than you did. Everyone knows enchanted creatures from the Nether Regions have red eyes and ears. Surely even you will not deny it?”
The Raven snorted and turned away to rinse the cloth again.
He did slide a glance at her. “And you know much of bespelled beasts?”
“I know enough.” She broke the thread she’d been fretting at, twirled the length of it around her finger. “That is why my hand slipped when I pulled out my dagger.”
“The charge of a bull is enough to unsteady anyone’s hand.” The words spoken, he reached for her knee, this time dabbing gently behind it.
Gelis bit her lip.
His touch was doing more than cleaning the blood streaks from her legs. Every glide of his hands on her skin sent delicious tingling warmth shivering and spilling through her, a cascade of delight that rippled clear down to her toes and — she drew a shaky breath — spreadupher legs as well.
Sweet titillating sensations, they spiraled across a certain very feminine part of her, each luscious new swirl of desire making her pulse and tingle with an almost unbearably delicious thrumming.
Almost as if he were touching her there.
Wishing he would, she squirmed on the bed. She imagined, no, she willed, his fingers to circle higher. To caress and stroke her, perhaps even to look at herthere, peering as intently between her legs as he was now staring fixedly at her wee, meaningless cut.
After all, when Evelina of Doon had given her the golden bauble-chain, the one-time joy woman had sworn that if all else failed, she need only ensure he catch such an intimate glimpse of her.
If so, the older woman had vowed, he’d be unable to resist her.
Such was the nature of men.
Embarrassed by such a scandalous notion, however rousing, she drew a deep breath when he dipped and rinsed the cloth once more.
Then, summoning her boldest self, she deliberately eased her knee just a tiny bit farther to the side.
“My sister once saw such a creature,” she blurted, hoping to disguise her wickedness. “Deep in Glenelg, though it was an enchanted stag, not a bull.”
“Say you?” He arched a brow, his attention still on her cut.
She nodded . . . and moved her leg just a teeny bit more.
A muscle jerked in his jaw and he straightened, tossing aside the bloodied cloth.
“And what did your sister do?” He was still looking down at her, his gaze now focused a little higher. “Was she — Arabella, I believe? — injured?”
“O-o-oh, nae.” Gelis shook her head, excitement making her heart pound.
Soon she would have him.
She shivered, tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She was beginning to burn. Heat and tingles coiled through her, igniting her passion and making it hard to concentrate on anything but her wish that he’d seize her.
Grab her swiftly, and kiss her senseless, finally making her his own.
Instead, he angled his head and — she was sure of it — his gaze went a bit predatory.
She moistened her lips.
