“Ah, I wondered what this was for. My hair, of course.” She made certain all of it was inside the basin.
“Close yer eyes. This may splash,” he warned, then poured fire-warmed water over her hair. When the bucket was half empty, he used one hand to spread her hair and rinsed it again, then set the bucket aside and helped her wring out her tresses into the basin. “Again?”
“Please.” The warm water felt so good, she couldn’t resist.
That done, he toweled it, squeezing out water until it remained only damp, then had her sit by the fire and picked up a comb.
“Nay, no’ yet,” Fiona told him. “’Tis yer turn. Ye must be as miserable with salt as I was.”
“I went bare into the water, as ye’ll recall,” he told her. “It hasna been sticking to me under wet clothes.”
She gave him a grin as the memory surfaced. “I do recall. Ye were so brave, Husband, to risk the tide for me. How will I ever repay ye?”
“Once we’ve eaten and rested, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he said, as he kicked off his boots and stripped out of his trews, the only thing he’d donned while on the beach. He quickly washed off the salt, and used a cup to pour fresh water through his hair. “Better,” he said when he finished. He pulled on a clean léine and found one as well for Fiona. Clean and somewhat dressed, he picked up the comb and began working tangles out of her hair, gently, from the ends up.
“Where did ye learn to do that?” Once again, Erik surprised her with his tender care of her.
“I’ve seen it done many times by lasses who come outside to let the sun and wind help dry their hair.
“Ye are observant. One of yer many skills.”
He kept working on a tangle, but smiled into her eyes. “I’m glad ’tis one ye approve.”
“One of many.” Fiona’s muscles were melting under Erik’s care. If he kept this up much longer, she’d be asleep before she had a chance to sample what Cook brought, and she was finally noticing delicious aromas. “We should eat while we’re still able to,” she advised before Erik suggested it, and stood, gesturing him to the table.
Hot food and drink finished what the heat of the fire and warm water had started. Her eyes drooping, Fiona leaned an elbow on the table. “I canna do any more.”
“’Tis time to rest, and later, we can do whatever we wish.”
“Sleep, now,” Fiona said, the only two words she had the strength to utter.
Erik pulled her up from her chair and walked her to the bed, running his hands through her hair as he did so. “’Tis nearly dry and tangle free. ’Twillna bother ye while ye rest.”
“Are ye going to join me?”
“Aye, that I am.”
He laid her down and covered her with a soft plaid.
The next thing she knew, the light had shifted enough to tell her hours had passed. She lay curled against Erik’s warm body, her arm flung over his chest, her head on his shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on her back.
“How are ye, love?” Erik’s deep voice vibrated against her cheek.
“Ye called me that before. Love.”
“’Tis how I feel. I nearly lost ye today, Fiona, and the shock of it made me see what I feared to recognize before. That I do love ye. I have loved ye for longer than I kenned. And now that I ken, I never want to live without ye.”
“I love ye, as well, Erik Ross. I have loved ye since the day ye came to Rose to find me. I just didna ken it then. I’ve never been in love before, until ye. I’ve never kenned such tenderness, such care for me, even before ye risked yer own life to save me.”
“I would do it again, love. A thousand times, I would risk my life for yers.”
“I dinna want ye to face that again. I want us to live together, to raise a family together, and to care together for this clan.”
Erik pulled her on top of him, making his need for her plain by the evidence of his arousal. “I canna believe how lucky I was to find ye. And for ye to accept me, to wed with me. Ye are more than I hoped ye would be. More than I dreamed any lass could be. And ye are mine.”
“And I am where I will always want to be, love, with ye.”
Erik was dressedby the time Fiona awoke the next morning. “Go back to sleep, my love.”
