“Do not say it,” he growled. “I’ve been in hell all day. I want to touch you and hold you—but I can’t. And tonight that young MacEwen…” He flung a hand through the air. “All I wanted to do was drag him out of the cave by the ear, toss him up onto his horse, smack the animal’s rear flank, and send him galloping back to Kinloch—just for talking to you.”
It was not quite a vow of everlasting love, but it was enough to make Catherine smile, for he had just confessed that he was jealous.
“Do not shut me out,” she implored, trying to move past all of that. “You are the only person with whom I feel I can be myself. Even if we do not kiss or touch each other like lovers, I still need you. Please ride with me tomorrow. That is all I ask. I am alone, and lonely, and you were hurtful today.”
She wished she could see his expression, but his face was shrouded in the murky gloom of the night.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, lass,” he softly said, and all at once he was back inside her heart, as a hazy sensuous heat flared between them. “That’s the last thing I wanted to do. But we both need to forget about certain things we’ve done. There’s no future in it.”
“I have no regrets,” she told him. “I never will.”
He bowed his head and said nothing for a long while, and when he finally spoke his voice was firm with resolve. “I must say something to you, lass, and I hope you will take it to heart.” He gazed at her directly. “I believe the only reason I fire your passions is because you cannot remember anyone else in your life that you might have cared for in the past. You said it yourself. You’re alone, and you’re lonely. So don’t make too much of what happened between us.”
“I could say the same thing to you,” she replied. “That you only want me because you haven’t had a woman in three years, and you are perpetually…aroused.”
He inclined his head at her, as if to suggest it was a dangerous thing of which to remind him.
In a flash of movement he reached out and pulled her close. He crushed her body against his and wrapped his arms around her, keeping her warm as he feathered his lips across her cheek.
“You’re right,” he whispered in a low, seductive voice. “I’ve been aroused since the moment I met you, but I have not felt that way in a long, long time—because when you’re celibate long enough, you eventually begin to forget how it feels to evenwantit.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” she shakily replied, fighting against overpowering desires that left her trembling with need. “I don’t remember how I felt about my first time. It disturbs me greatly to think that I have lost that part of my life.”
He nuzzled her ear, and she knew in the depths of her soul that he understood her meaning.
“You don’t have to talk about it, lass.”
“I might want to someday.”
“If you do, I will listen.”
She snuggled closer to him, burrowing into the warmth of his body, the soft wool of his tartan, and the clean, musky scent of his skin. There was nowhere on earth she would rather be than right there on that rock, with him, where she felt safe, protected, and cared for, even after he had told her to keep away.
Catherine lifted her face to look up at him. “Will you ride with me tomorrow?” she asked. “There is no reason why you shouldn’t. We’ll be on horseback. There will be no touching.”
His head dipped lower, and she could feel the curve of his smile when he spoke. “You say that while your hand is rubbing my chest and your sweet breath is beating upon my neck.”
“I can’t help it,” she replied with laughter. “I’m cold, and you are so warm. I need your heat.”
He gathered her closer, bracing both feet on the ground to keep them from sliding forward, supporting her legs across his lap. “Is that better?”
“Yes. I only wish we could stay like this forever.”
They sat together in the rolling fog, their breaths creating steam, while Catherine gloried in the sensation of his hand toying with the locks of hair at her temple, cupping the side of her face.
“We should go back,” he said after a while, brushing his lips across her forehead.
“Not yet. Please, just a few more minutes. This feels so good.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that, Catherine.”
She didn’t plan it or think about it consciously, but somehow her hand slid down his chest to his hard stomach, along the side of his hip, and lower still, across the front of his kilt.
He was fully erect, and she buried her face in his shoulder. All she wanted was to feel the shape of him, to know the contours of his body, but he quickly seized her wrist.
“Not a wise idea.”
She swallowed hard, frustrated by the sudden wall that came crashing down in front of her. “I didn’t mean to start anything.”
