Her gaze landed on him. She hesitated, but then started to march across the leaf- and moss-strewn ground toward him. He noticed she carried a bundle of cloth in her arms.
She stopped before him, tilting her pale face to his. His chest squeezed. Sleep, it seemed, had eluded her as well.
"Since it is your rule, and my brother is busy, I'm afraid you will have to accompany me."
He gave her a quizzical look.
"Did you not make me promise not to leave camp without you or my brother?"
His mouth twitched, the first smile in what felt like years. "Aye."
"I need to go to the burn to wash."
The river was within easy sight of the camp, but he didn't argue, realizing how much the attack must have unsettled her. He bowed with a mocking flourish of his hand. "After you."
She didn't appear anxious to talk, which was fine by him. He waited by a tree, pretending not to watch, while she went through her morning ablutions.
After tidying her hair with a damp comb and cleaning her teeth with powder from a vial that she rubbed on a small square of linen, she dipped a fresh linen cloth in the river. She'd brought a sliver of soap, which she rubbed on the cloth, and then proceeded to wash her face, chest, hands, and arms.
It was one of the most erotic sights he'd ever beheld.
When she dipped the cloth between her breasts, it was too much. He turned away, furious that something so mundane could arouse him. But with the sun streaming through the trees, catching the golden strands of hair, and the rivulets of water cascading down her face and chest, she looked beautiful, sweet, and utterly entrancing. A ray of light in the darkness. And all he could think about was how close he'd come to heaven--and how badly he wanted to touch her again.
God, had he learned nothing from what happened last night?
He focused on their surroundings with almost exaggerated intensity, keening his senses toward anything out of the ordinary.
But his gaze drifted back. She'd finished and walked toward him, the sun illuminating her from behind. He sucked in his breath. But that didn't prevent him from getting a mind-numbing whiff of her sweet feminine fragrance: freshly washed skin tinged with rose petals.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said tightly.
"You look as if you are in pain." Her eyes flew to his. "Is it your face?" She reached up to cup his bruised chin. Every muscle in his body jumped at the contact. "Did my foolish brother break something?" Jesus, her hands were soft. Velvety fingers caressed the hard line of his flexed jaw. "Look at all those bruises. It must hurt." Her thumb slid toward his mouth. "Your lip is split."
It did hurt. The innocently erotic gesture sent a rush of blood low in his groin and fired his blood with heat. He had to force himself not to take her finger in his mouth and suck.
She had no idea what she was doing to him. Or how hard it was for him to keep his hands off her.
She gazed up at him with wide-eyed concern. A little kitten in the jaws of a wolf. "Does it hurt very badly?"
"It's not my face." He gave her a hot look that told her exactly the source of his pain. He was as hard as a spike.
A soft pink stained her cheeks. If that wasn't bad enough, she proceeded to nibble on her soft bottom lip. "Oh. I didn't realize--"
"We should get back. Your brother will wish to leave soon."
She nodded, and he thought he saw her shiver. "I shall not be sad to leave this place."
He couldn't stop himself. He tipped her chin, looking deep into her big, blue eyes. "You are all right?"
She tried to smile, but her mouth wobbled. "Nay, but I will manage."
He dropped his hand; his mouth fell in a straight line. "What happened last night will not be repeated."
Her delicately arched brows furrowed. "How can you be so certain?"
"Because I won't let it."
