She lifted wide eyes to his and could readhis intentions.God in heaven.He was going to kiss her lips, aswell.She forgot to breathe.Her heart forgot to beat.
His mouth closed over hers.It was the merestbrush of lips to lips.His touch was firm, his kiss easy andpracticed.
Her lips trembled.Never before had she beenkissed like this.There had been lads in the village who had triedto kiss her.A few had even succeeded.Always she had turned awayfrom hem, more annoyed than pleased.But this.This was no clumsyyouth, struggling with the first stirrings of manhood.
Lindsey experienced a rush of feelings likenothing she had ever known.Her heart was beating so wildly shethought it would surely explode.Her palms became moist.She kepther hands firmly between her body and his, hoping to hold him atarm’s length.But slowly, with a will of their own, her fingerssplayed across his naked chest, tingling as they came in contactwith his hair-roughened skin.
Jamie drew her closer, allowing his lips tomove seductively over hers.The jolt was sudden, shocking.This hadbeen a mistake.He knew it as soon as his lips touched hers, assoon as the first wild spark raged through him.But there was noway to stop it now.His body was suddenly alive, surging with need.But his fevered mind was befuddled.He seemed robbed of his usualdiscipline.He knew he had to stop this.From the way she kissedhim, he knew her to be an innocent maiden.She would be shocked anddisgusted by his hunger.By angering her and her family, he woulddestroy everything he had worked for.But God in heaven, she was sosweet.And though he knew he must end it, he could not.Not yet.One moment more.One more brush of his lips to hers.
Lindsey’s hands curled around his arms,holding on as if her very life depended on it.Ofttimes, lost insleep, she had dreamed of a knight who would carry her off to somedistant shore and make her his own.But always, when she awoke, shefelt ashamed of such foolish dreams and renewed her determinationthat no man would ever claim her.Some inner demon had plagued herfrom childhood, building a wall of fear around her heart.She knew,if she let go, the spell would be broken and she would awake in herown bed, awash in trembling feelings of guilt and fear.
She kept her eyes firmly closed as his lipsmoved over hers.And though it was merely a kiss, she sensed thepassion, the fire, which he kept so carefully banked.
With his last desperate burst ofself-control, Jamie managed to surface and pull himself away.Holding her at a distance, he watched the play of conflictingemotions on her face and recognized astonishment, then fear, andthen growing disbelief that bordered on anger.
He lifted a hand and brushed an errant strandof hair from her cheek.Eyes the shade of a Highland pool stareddeeply into his.
Color suffused Lindsey’s cheeks.This was nota dream.The man beside her in the bed was real.And very muchalive.She was achingly aware of his arousal.Surely the wildbeating of his heart matched her own.She struggled to regain hersenses.
“I can see that you are quite strong enoughto undress yourself.”She pushed herself from his arms andstruggled to climb from the bed.She prayed her legs were strongenough to hold her.
He lay quietly, enjoying the sight of herwriggling efforts to smooth down her skirts.What a magnificentbody she hid beneath those petticoats.His mouth curved into aroguish smile.
“It will not be nearly as pleasurable ashaving you undress me, my lady.”
“It is as I first thought.”She turned toface him.Her hands were shaking so badly, she brought them to herhips to steady them.She hoped she gave the impression of righteousindignation.“You are a villain masquerading as a Highlandgentleman.”
“Does this mean you will not help meundress?”
“Oh!”As she flounced to the doorway, shenearly collided with the servant who was just entering.“Leave thebroth on the bedside table, Moira,” she ordered.“My Lord MacDonaldis strong enough to feed himself.”
Jamie watched until she disappeared fromview.Then he lay very quietly, feeling the need for her stillthrobbing within him.His hands, he noted, were not quite steady,and his heart was beating far too rapidly.With a moan ofdiscomfort he rolled to his side and willed himself to bank hisdesire and seek the rest he so desperately needed.
Chapter Three
Dawn light had yetto touch the sky when Lindsey slipped from her bed and made her wayto the adjoining room.Carrying a candle aloft, she opened the doorto the sleeping chamber and beckoned the servant seated by thebedside to come to her.In the adjacent sitting chamber they spokein hushed tones.
“He has not stirred?”
“Nay, my lady.All day and night he hasslept.”
“The fever?”
“It has run its course.He sleeps aspeacefully as a bairn.”
“His wounds?”
“The bleeding has stopped.The wounds appearclean.”The serving girl’s tone revealed her admiration for thestranger who was the object of much speculation among the householdstaff.“He is most strong, my lady.Never have I seen a man recoverso quickly.”
“Next, Moira, you will tell me the saints areon his side,” Lindsey said with a trace of impatience.Then, seeingthe weariness in the girl’s eyes, she said softly, “You have donewell.Go to sleep now.I will keep watch until the dawn.”
“Aye, my lady.”
As the servant left, Lindsey picked up thecandle and entered the sleeping chamber.For long moments she heldthe candle aloft, peering at the man in the bed.Then, placing thelight on the table, she drew a blanket around her shoulders andsettled herself into a chair beside the bed.
She glanced around the room with a littlefrown.Her father had demanded that this man be treated like arespected guest.The basin of water and bloody linens had beenremoved.The stranger’s blood-soaked breeches had been stripped offand tossed into the fire.They were beyond saving.His tunic andfine shirt had been washed and mended.They lay neatly atop anearby chest.His boots had been polished to a high shine andplaced beside the bed.
Jamie was sprawled on his back, his armsoutstretched.Pristine bed linens covered him modestly to thewaist.His chest rose and fell in peaceful slumber.Despite thefact that there should be nothing out of the ordinary about the manwho lay sleeping, there remained about him a hint of danger, evenmystery.In the candlelight his thick shaggy hair and beard glintedwith russet strands, as did the mat of hair on his chest.
