“No,” Morag shook her head. “I do no’ think so.”
The women stared at each other until Janet broke the silence. “Well then, the only thing left to figure out is how we get out of this…” She flung a hand toward one animal pelt wall. “Thing.”
Morag chuckled softly. “Unfortunately, that will be the most difficult part to figure out.” She patted Janet reassuringly on the knee, causing her to wince. “But we—oh dear, what’s wrong? Is it your knee, lovie?”
“Yesss,” she hissed as she sucked in air between her teeth.
“Let me see.” Morag undid the buttons on Janet’s cloak, carefully tugged it open, and quickly ascertained how bad the situation looked. Since Janet was wearing a sundress that only came to mid-thigh while standing, it rode up even further while sitting, making it easy to see that her knees were badly skinned up. “Ouch.” Morag winced sympathetically. “I take it you got scraped up whilst running?”
“Yes. I—”
One of the animal pelt walls flapped open and the figure of a brooding, dark-haired man emerged. Janet’s heart rate picked up, pounding inside of her chest. The women huddled closer together, a natural reflex given the situation.
The giant’s gaze sought out Janet’s, but was snagged a moment later by the sight of her naked leg. She swallowed roughly in reaction as she watched the barbarian study the thigh most adjacent to him. His eyes trailed from the knee upward, slow and lingering, his possessive gaze burning into her so harshly that she hysterically wondered if a cattle brand would magically appear on her leg. Why not. Everything else about this situation was insane.
He wanted her. She’d be a fool not to see it. His burning eyes said so. His meandering gaze said so. The thick erection poking against the kilt-like blackish covering he wore said so. She averted her gaze and quickly looked away.
The heavily muscled giant stood there for another moment before making his way further into the tent. His movement caused Janet’s head to snap up and her body to huddle impossibly closer to Morag’s. The warrior noticed her reaction and, oddly enough, slowed his movements down, approaching her in a manner that was surprisingly non-threatening for one so large and obviously lacking in gentlemanly finesse.
Everything about the battle-scarred man spoke of command and authority. He was a warrior accustomed to taking what he would when he would. And yet he approached Janet cautiously, the way an adult would when trying to lessen the fright of a skittish child.
His large, callused hands placed softly on her knees caused their gazes to clash. Janet’s eyes widened nervously. She glanced toward Morag who was shaking like a leaf, then back to the warrior squatting before her.
One hand slid slowly down her right thigh, the leg opposite the side Morag was sitting near, so her friend didn’t know what the stern-looking giant was about. His grim black eyes were glazed over with desire as he trailed his hand gently over the expanse of her warm, soft flesh. He touched her as though he couldn’t seem to help himself, as though there was nothing in the world he wanted or needed more.
Such a response from a man might have been an aphrodisiac under normal circumstances, but under the current ones it was gut-wrenchingly frightening. Janet began to swallow convulsively.
Her reaction didn’t go by undetected. Again, at odds from the warrior’s harsh exterior, he showed her the kindness of dropping his hand from her thigh and settling it back upon her skinned knee. His eyes sharpened almost instantly, as if he had momentarily forgotten himself but was now back in control.
And then he was preparing to leave. Just like that. He dropped his hands from her knees and stood up from his squatting position.
Janet couldn’t help but to notice how heavily muscled his legs were when they flexed into standing mode. Indeed, the warrior’s entire body looked almost god-like it was so formidably carved.
Janet watched him exit the tent, watched as the animal skin flapped shut behind him, then cocked her head to gawk at Morag whose own jaw had dropped open. “What was that about?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” Morag swallowed a bit roughly. She squeezed Janet’s hand. “I-I thought he meant t-to…”
Janet breathed in deeply. “So did I. I—”
The tent flapped open again and her gaze clashed with the warrior’s. His mask was back on, that stony impenetrable façade that she would have thought he always wore had she not witnessed that blazing look in his eyes a minute prior herself.
Her green eyes widened noticeably as he lowered his powerful thighs before her and squatted between her legs once again. Her breathing became shallow and choppy as she prepared for the worst.
Would he rape her right here in front of her best friend? Would Morag be made to watch so she’d know what was in store for her as well? The mere thought of such humiliation caused tears to form in her eyes.
Large, callused hands thrust her legs open a bit wider. Janet looked away and bit down hard on her lip. She could feel Morag’s breathing growing labored as they both prepared for Janet’s assault. Morag cried out softly as the warlord settled himself intimately between Janet’s thighs.
No! Janet thought hysterically. This couldn’t be happening! Please God…
Janet closed her eyes and bit down harder on her lip. The metallic taste of blood trickled onto her tongue. Her heart was beating so rapidly she could hear nothing but the pulse of it. She squeezed Morag’s hand as she felt his breath come closer.
And then she feltit—the hardness of his erection brushing up against her leg from beneath his coarse wool covering. Panting almost hysterically, Janet clamped down on Morag’s hand as the warrior placed…a wet rag on her knee.
A wet rag on her knee?
Confused, Janet’s eyes flew open and darted toward the giant. Her breathing slowed so rapidly it halted completely for a lingering moment. The warrior was…good lord he was tending to her wounded knees.
Eyes rounded, she looked quizzically at the giant who didn’t seem to notice her. He was busy patting icy cold rags on her knees, tenderly wiping away the dirt that had mingled with the blood on her exposed, raw flesh.
