“Mayhapwe should not mention him anymore,” Sorcha murmured, wondering if Ruari knewthat he had just spoken and acted as a man who was starting to believe. “‘Tisclear that ye have put him in a foul mood. Tell me about my aunt and Malcolm. Iwas told that your cleric is interested in Neil.”
“Interested?”Ruari laughed and shook his head. “The mon is so besotted he falls o’er his ownfeet. He has never been verra graceful, but when your aunt was near, he was indanger of hurting himself.”
“Oh,dear.” She had to bite back a laugh at the image Ruari painted with his words.
“Aye,oh dear. Howbeit, at first I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing andmayhap hurting the mon’s feelings, but as your aunt left, I began to wonder.”He paused as he thought over what he had seen.
“Beganto wonder about what?” she pressed when he said no more.
“Weel,I am no real judge of such things, but it did look as if she may be interestedin him. She smiled at the mon, and there was almost a tender look in her eyes. ‘Twouldbe a strange match. I cannae think of two people more completely different thanMalcolm and your Aunt Neil.”
“‘Tistrue that they would make a strange sight, but mayhap they are aware ofsomething we could never see. My aunt has little love for men who try to catchher interest, yet clearly, she accepted Malcolm’s attempts to woo her.”
Ruarisat down on the bed and studied her. Just watching her as she moved across theroom to pour herself a tankard of cider was enough to make his loins tightenpainfully with need. He knew, however, that he could not draw her into his armsthis time unless he offered more than passion. She had made no demands of him,but instinct told him she would continue to refuse him if he only sought abedwarmer for a few nights or the duration of her stay.
“Andwhat does it take to woo you, Sorcha Hay?” he asked in a quiet voice, decidingto take the most direct route to what he craved.
“Morethan a fire in the blood and a fine pair of eyes,” she answered, turning tolook at him. She was tense, sensing that he was planning to talk to her moreopenly than he had ever done before, and she was no longer certain of how muchshe should demand or how much she was willing to be patient about.
“Doye expect vows of undying love and promises of marriage?” he asked, unable tokeep all of the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Iexpect to be treated as more than an enjoyable tussle in the sheets.”
“Oh,ye have always been more than that, lassie. Always.”
“Whyare ye asking me these things?”
“MayhapI wish to ken the road I must walk to get back into your bed.”
“Yecannae expect me to lie down each night with a mon who is vigorously lookingfor a wife all the day long.” She walked closer to him, wanting to see eachshift of his expression as he answered.
“Itseems I have come to the end of my list for the moment. The last bride I was toconsider left as abruptly as the two before her.” He eyed Sorcha speculatively.“Are ye sure ye had naught to do with that?”
Onething Sorcha was sure of was that it would be a very long time, if ever, beforeshe confessed to sending his little brides running for the safety of home. “Now,why should I wish to so disrupt your search for a wife?”
“Iwas rather hoping ye would say it was because ye didnae want me to choose anyof them.”
“Thatwould give your vanity a fine stroking, wouldnae it?”
“Itwould also help me decide what to say next.” He grimaced. “Mayhap I should justspit out what is in my head and heart.”
“Thatwould certainly simplify matters. We could spend many an hour choking out onehint at a time, our questions wary and our answers vague.”
“Verratrue. I cannae read your mind, and ye cannae read mine.” He frowned a littleand looked at her. “Ye cannae do that, can ye?”
Sorchalaughed and shook her head. “Nay, of course not.”
“Weel,at the moment it probably wouldnae matter if ye could, for the thoughtswhirling about in my head arenae even allowing me to read them clearly. Thereis only one thing I am verra sure of, and nothing changes it—I want you in mybed.” He briefly grinned. “Or me in yours. Or most anywhere else.”
“Ibelieve I understand,” she said before he could go on. “And I want you. Idinnae believe I have e’er made a secret of that. When ye were at Dunweare andI thought we would part and ne’er set eyes on each other again, the passion wasenough. I didnae want to lose the chance to taste something I kenned would beverra fine. Weel, I have tasted it and, even though I still hunger for it, Ican be a wee bit more discerning now. I need not sell myself so cheaply.”
“Noteven to replenish the monly stock of Dunweare?” he said, then inwardly cursedthe touch of sullenness in his voice.
Unableto suppress it, Sorcha giggled, but a glare from Ruari cut it short. “Ye didnaebelieve that, did ye? ‘Twould be somewhat of an insult to me if ye did.”
“Icertainly didnae consider it flattery to be told I was being used for stud.”
“Yedeserved it for calling what we had shared ill advised. It doesnae sound soterrible when I say it, but ye made it sound as if it was a horrible crime yewould regret for the rest of your days.”
