He kissed her on the forehead and lay down beside her again. The fur was soft and warm beneath her body, and his presence in the cold night was a soothing balm to her anxieties.
“What would I do without you?” she asked. “You have come to my rescue more than once, and have taken such good care of me.”
“One could argue the opposite. I took you away from the safety of Drumloch, andnowlook at you—having nightmares in the wilds of Scotland, sleeping outdoors beside a cursed Highlander who may be more of a danger to you than anything else you might envision in your nightmares.”
She snuggled close to him, praying that he would not, in the next few minutes, decide to leave her. She wanted him to stay. He was her lifeline out of this empty void of her existence, where her past was merely fodder for speculation. He was an anchor of true human connection.
“As bad as it feels to imagine that I might have been involved in such a twisted plot, what if it’s not that? What if I simply had a child of my own, and I tried to harm him?” The notion made her stomach roll with nausea.
“I do not believe you would do such a thing,” he replied. “Not under any circumstances.”
“How can you be sure?”
“It is not in your nature, lass.”
She wondered how he could speak with such confidence about her nature when neither of them knew a thing about her behavior in the past, before her grandmother found her in Italy.
She gazed at Lachlan, sprawled out beside her, his rugged beauty a constant reminder of her frustration at not being free to love him. How could she when she did not know who she was?
“It would be best,” he said, “if you did not tell anyone about your dream. Your own sister is at the center of this new rebellion, and if Murdoch suspects you of being a spy, involved in the plot to kill the Stuart prince, they might not…” He paused. “They might not welcome us with open arms.”
“If I am guilty of such a crime against Scotland,” she said, feeling increasingly uneasy, “would you not feel an obligation to turn me in?”
He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “My only obligation is to protect you.”
She chose her words carefully. “But if I tried to murder a child, I would not be worthy of your protection.”
“Youdidn’t,” he said. “And nothing will convince me otherwise.”
Chapter Twenty-three
For a few hours they slept soundly in the tent, until Lachlan stirred, shortly before dawn. Half-dozing, he grew conscious of Catherine’s warm body, snuggled close to his in the darkness. He breathed in the enchanting fragrance of her hair and wallowed drowsily in the forbidden bliss of an early-morning arousal. She felt like heaven lying next to him, her soft, lush body conforming perfectly to his, and he sighed with pleasure, shifting his hips ever closer.
Still bleary with sleep, he moved his hand slightly and explored the engaging, provocative contours of her thigh, before journeying upward to the alluring curve of her slender waist. His thumb stroked across the smooth ridges of her rib cage, and he bided his time, waiting for wakefulness, while he resisted the urge to cup her whole breast in his palm.
Her blue eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at him sleepily, without uttering a word.
“I should go now,” he whispered, wanting her with a dangerous urgency that thundered unbearably through his mind. He moved to sit up, but she reached out to stop him.
His eyes narrowed, for he could feel the tide of his self-control shifting while desire drowned out the more rational part of his brain that was warning him not to stay. Not to let go.
“Please don’t leave yet,” she pleaded in a velvety voice that touched him through the darkness. “Why not let me help you? Surely there are ways I can give you pleasure without evoking the curse. Just tell me how to touch you. Tell me what feels good.”
He had no control over his erection, which responded quite favorably to her offer, while the rest of his body flooded with alarm.
Even in the murky shadows of the dawn, her beauty was pushing him over the edge, and he was painfully aware of her full, moist lips begging to be kissed.
“It wouldn’t be wise,” he whispered in a voice that shook.
“Why not?”
He swallowed over the torrent of passion building up inside him. “Because I say so. It’s taken me a long time to learn hownotto feel certain things, and it’s best if I maintain that discipline.”
“But why should you suffer like that, if I am willing to give you pleasure without asking for more? All you have to do is lie back and tell me what you like.”
Her provocative words fed his engorged desires, and he shifted uncomfortably. She brushed a hand over his knee with a light and feathery touch, inched her body closer, testing his resolve. His heart throbbed lustily, and he clenched his jaw, fighting against an overpowering onslaught of physical sensation, as she slid her warm hand up under his kilt and massaged the thick muscles of his inner thigh.
He was overcome suddenly with a surprising rush of despair, for this represented all that he could not have—physical intimacy with a woman he wanted desperately.
