"Yes, but you're not wrong. It is too soon." Her expression turned thoughtful. "You crossed the border into Scotland on the way up from the George Inn. Since we're in Scotland, we could do a handfasting and lie together legally."
For a moment he caught his breath, entranced by the thought of being married to Caitlin. Then sanity returned and he shook his head ruefully. "You're a hard woman to win an argument with! This isn't about legality or lack thereof, Caitlin. It's because you've just escaped from captivity and the threat of death, and I'm telling myself that I can't possibly be falling in love with the very first Scottish woman I've met since returning home."
She caught her breath, startled by his words. "That does sound rather…hasty. But appealing!" Her gaze held his before she said shyly, "It might be too soon to become lovers, but will you share my bed tonight? For warmth and companionship, nothing more."
The idea was dangerous but irresistible. "I'd love to hold you all night and hope we're both too tired to lose all sense."
"The unexpected benefit of exhaustion," Caitlin said with a wry smile. "Please join me, Captain, for a very proper night."
"It will be my very great pleasure," he said formally.
He stood and stripped off his outer garments and laid them over a chair, then added more coals to the bedroom fire so it would burn all night. Behind him he heard the rustling sounds of Caitlin changing from her male daytime clothing into nightwear.
After hearing her slide into the bed again, he turned and climbed into the opposite side so he could draw her into his arms. She gave a soft, contented sigh as she settled against him. They fit together as they had been designed to be perfect mates. "Sleep well, lass," he whispered.
"And the same to you, my captain." She wriggled closer before releasing her breath in a long, contented sigh.
Together, they slept.
Caitlin woke slowly, warm and comfortable, only gradually realizing that she was sharing the bed with something large and warm. Notsomething,butsomeone!
The thought jerked her awake like a bucket of ice water as memories rushed through her. Uncle James was gone. The vile Dawsons. Drugs and chains and the threat of death. Now she was home and sharing a bed with an army officer she'd only just met.
A very handsome and rather irresistible army officer. She opened her eyes and contemplated Captain Cameron for a few pleasurable moments. Her intuition told her that he was as strong, kind, and honorable as he seemed to be. Good husband material, in fact. Though it was surely too soon to be thinking of such a thing, they'd both been thinking exactly that.
He'd risked his life in case she needed to be rescued from freezing to death. She'd rewarded his efforts by aiming a rifle at him, then collapsed sobbing into his arms. After which she'd boldly asked him to join her in bed.
Bold she might have been, but that had actually been one of her better ideas. She couldn't remember when she'd had a more restful night's sleep. She liked that David hadn't taken the opportunity to grope her. Unlike Dawson, the swine. Her horrible cousin had stopped trying after she'd kicked him where a man least wanted to be kicked.
Reluctantly she slid from the bed, her feet landing on the rag rug that offered protection from the icy floor. The room was bitingly cold, but she'd been splendidly warmed through the night.
David shifted and his eyes opened. He gave her a smile of pure pleasure as his gaze slid from her tangled hair to her bare feet with a thoroughness that made her blush. "What a lovely sight to start the day!"
He swung from the bed and stood, giving a leonine stretch. Until now he'd worn bulky winter clothes, so the sight of him in a loose shirt and drawers revealed how very fit and appealing his body was. Wide shoulders, lean muscles, and the grace of absolute physical mastery.
While she was admiring him, he circled the bed and drew her into a warm and very thorough hug. The embrace dissolved any potential awkwardness. Though passion was only a hair's breadth away, this friendly hug was a perfect way to start this day.
After several long pleasurable moments, he stepped away. "Time to stop before temptation overcomes good judgment!" he said with a wry smile.
The room was suddenly too cool. She drew a deep breath, then managed to say mildly, "I'm guessing that for you, good judgment usually wins over temptation."
"Usually. Not always." His gaze traveled down her in a way that made her heavy flannel nightgown feel transparent. That look from a different man would have embarrassed or offended her. Coming from David, it made her want to purr.
He collected his garments and boots from the chair where he'd left them. "I'll get dressed in the kitchen and build up the fire. Then I'll go out and tend to the horses."
"Would you like porridge for breakfast?" she asked. "And tea, of course. I can also heat some shaving water if you'd like."
"I would love some proper Scottish porridge! It was available in India, but not at all appealing in that heat." He ran a hand over his bristly jaw. "Shaving is also a fine idea. After I see to the horses."
She liked how he'd gently arranged a smooth start to their morning that allowed them each privacy. After he collected his clothing and moved into the kitchen, she donned her warmest garments, then finger combed her hair before plaiting it into a simple braid.
By the time he returned to the kitchen, the porridge was cooked and water was simmering for the tea. His heavy coat was open and his wool scarf lay loose on his shoulders. "The storm has mostly blown itself out and the temperature is rising. The roads should be passable fairly soon."
As she served the porridge and tea, she said, her gaze down, "And you'll be off then."
It was a statement, not a question, but he shook his head. "I won't leave until your situation is secure. Do you think the Dawsons will come after you?"
She sighed. "I wish I believed that they'd given up, but I don't. Braewood is too rich a prize for them to surrender easily."
