Page 10

This hesitant answer did not reassure him. She was in pain but trying to be brave. His chest constricted at the thought of her alone in the forest, injured and worried about what might happen to her. Now he understood her reaction when she’d seen him. She had not been happy to see him, exactly, only relieved that help was at hand. Anyone would have done.

“How long have you been walking thus?” he asked, pushing that unflattering thought from his mind. Anyone else might have been able to help, but he was here now, and he would make the most of it.

“Long enough.”

Too long, Johanna amended privately. She was exhausted by the trudge in the mud and in pain from her injury. Just before Cadell had so propitiously appeared, she had started to worry that she would not reach Bryn Glas before nightfall, or more to the point, before the heavy clouds looming ahead started to burst. She had wanted to make the most of a rare ray of sunshine that afternoon to go for a ride but she should have known the respite would not last. It had rained almost without stopping for the last few days, which explained the state of the path—and her fall by the river. The ground had been a mire, something she had not taken into account when she had set off earlier. That had been her first mistake. Her second had been to leave unaccompanied. Not only was it not wise for a woman to be on her own, but this was not England, but a land where being English would put her at risk.

Well, at least she was not alone anymore, someone had found her. Not just anyone but someone she actually knew. Cadell was strong and capable, he could speak English and he was in possession of a horse. In other words, he was the perfect savior.

“Sit here, wait for me,” he instructed, gesturing at the fallen log to his right. “I won’t be long.”

While he led the two horses to a nearby bush and tethered them in the middle of a patch of grass, Johanna did as she was told. The relief of knowing someone was here to help, combined with her exhaustion, made it impossible to resist the temptation of the log. Everything would be fine now. With a man like Cadell ap Llywelyn by her side, no one would dare bother her.

It was not long before he was back, a frown on his face. There really was nothing left of the awkward youth she remembered. In fact, it was hard to think this man had ever been anything other than strong and commanding.

Heedless of the mud, he knelt in front of her.

“Please allow me to examine your wrist. I don’t think it is broken or you wouldn’t bear to move it without howling in pain, but we need to make sure.”

“Yes.”

Johanna was more than happy to let him take over. And she did want to know where things stood. She held out her arm to him. He lifted it with careful gestures but it soon became clear that he would not be able to see anything with the sleeve hugging her wrist so tight. The buttons would have to come undone.

“I’m going to have to undo these buttons,” he said, reaching the same conclusion.

Johanna was not sure why that sentence had caused her insides to go to liquid. Then she understood. Cadell was kneeling at her feet, she could feel the heat of his touch on her arm—and he had made it sound as if he were telling her that he would undress her completely. And then gaze upon her naked body. And then lick every inch of it.

Lick? She blinked.

Dear God, what was happening to her? This was a man she had met years ago, before her wedding, in what now felt like another life, someone she had considered at the time as, if not quite a child—he had looked far too masculine for that—but at least someone she could never be intimate with. But the trouble was, there was nothing left of that youth in him, he had most definitely become a man. A man with whom she had spent an awkward evening the other day, but a man nonetheless, with everything that it implied.

As a consequence, she could feel herself melting.

Not new to desire and intimacy, Johanna recognized what she was feeling for what it was. She wanted this man to gaze upon her naked body and lick every inch of her, something she had not wanted since she’d gotten married and sworn all other men off. Slowly, she lifted her head and she looked straight into Cadell’s eyes. There was a spark in the otherwise unremarkable brown irises that made them, well, remarkable. Rather like a lone, common oak that was able to deploy into his full majestic shape away from the other trees and therefore became a thing of beauty.

“Do it,” she said. “Undo the buttons.”

Had she sprained her wrist? She had no idea. What was certain was that the pain had been forgotten. And that she wanted to feel Cadell’s hands on her.

One by one, the delicate buttons were undone. He peeled away the expensive fabric to bare her forearm and then turned it slowly to expose the tender flesh of her inner wrist. With exquisite delicacy, he brushed a finger along the bone. It was a place where she had always love being touched and Cadell’s exploration made her quiver.

“Mm. It appears rather swollen, but it doesn’t look as bad as I feared,” he said eventually. “Will you show me the other one? So I can compare?”

“Yes.” He could do anything he wanted, if he was going to make her feel so good.

He took hold of her other arm and the sensual torture started again.

“Dear Lord, this one is so small,” Cadell whispered once the last button had been undone. He sounded rather hoarse, as if the sight of her wrist was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. Which, in turn, made her feel like showing it to him was the most daring thing she had ever done.

Their gazes locked.

This was getting dangerous.

Well, not dangerous exactly, but rather too delicious. Which was precisely what made it so dangerous. Everything was going too fast. It had taken her a whole week to succumb to Rhun’s roguish charm, despite his efforts to woo her, and allow him to kiss her. Even so, she had thought it scandalously fast. And yet here she was, less than a day after being reunited with Cadell, getting lost in sensations and imagining lewd embraces. Not once since her marriage, despite her loneliness, had she been tempted to take a lover. She certainly was now.

Johanna swallowed. As a widow, she was not subjected to the same rules as she had been as a married woman or a virgin. Perhaps she could take a lover. This lover, who touched her with such expertise.

“I think we should go,” she said, breaking the contact between them.