But no brigand would have shown such consideration as he had shown her, Katrine thought, remembering his restraint as she watched Raith pour water from the ewer into the washbasin. She was surprised and startled when he carried the basin and a cloth over to her pallet and went down on his knees beside her. Katrine raised a questioning gaze to him, but his expression was as enigmatic as his blue eyes as he used the damp cloth on her thighs to wash away the evidence of their passion and her innocence.
Katrine wasn’t sure whether she was embarrassed more by the intimacy of his action, or by the casual way Raith displayed his naked body; both sent flaming color rushing to her cheeks. And she could tell, before she averted her gaze, by the faint quirk at the corner of his mouth that he was aware of her embarrassment.
Raith might have commented on her lack of composure, but he only murmured, “Be still,” when Katrine shifted self-consciously beneath his ministrations. He finished his task in silence, while he struggled with his own warring emotions.
He hadn’t meant it to go so far. He hadn’t meant even to touch her, let alone allow his passion to flare so out of control. He had intended simply to lock her in her bedchamber for the remainder of the evening and talk to her in the morning, when his temper was cooler.
That had been the plan, but like every other plan having to do with Katrine, this one had failed, too. Yet if he had allowed himself to consider it, he would have known their mating was only the natural conclusion to the weeks of frustration. And for the moment he couldn’t regret it. Not for the moment. Just now he felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt since…since the carefree days of his youth. Alive and reckless, with the blood singing in his veins and an eager desire still throbbing through his senses.
Yet guilt nagged at his conscience as well, and dismay at the thought that he might have planted his seed within her. As he gently removed the last traces of virginal stains from Katrine’s satin-smooth skin, Raith found himself gazing at the juncture of her slender thighs, sparing scarcely a thought for the rapture he had known there as he clinically studied the width of her hips, measuring the distance. Was she capable of bearing children? Or would she, too, experience the agony of her body being ripped asunder by a stillborn son, the tragedy of having her life drained away by fever?
But it was too late now to worry about the consequences of their lovemaking. With effort, Raith forced away his morbid thoughts. Setting aside the cloth and basin, he stretched out beside her on the pallet and gathered Katrine into his arms. He felt a burning need to shelter her, to protect her from the world and from himself, but right now, he wanted simply to hold her, to savor the peace between them, the first he’d had in weeks with this troublesome, quarrelsome lass. And strangely, he wanted to reassure her. He could tell from the way she had buried her nose in his chest to hide her blushes that she was feeling shy. Repressing a smile, Raith stroked the wonderful fire of her hair. He would never have suspected this hot-tempered Campbell of being bashful or uncertain.
“There’s no need for shame,” he said quietly. “What happened between us was—” he paused, searching for the appropriate word “—natural.” And it was, Raith thought. Making love to Katrine had been as natural as breathing.
He must have struck the right note, for she found her courage again and drew back slightly to gaze up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do…how to please you—?
??
“You pleased me very well,” Raith said quickly. “I’ve never—” He broke off suddenly. There was no point in telling her that he’d never experienced such a shattering feeling as he had making love to her. After tonight it would never happen again. He wouldn’t allow it.
“A man prizes innocence in a lass,” Raith said instead. “But you should have saved it for your husband.”
Katrine fell silent. Just now didn’t seem the appropriate moment to confess that she already thought of Raith as her husband. He obviously wasn’t ready to hear it. And she would need time to consider just how to persuade him to her way of thinking.
“I’m to blame for letting this happen,” Raith continued in a low tone. “I should have had more control.” After a moment he gave a ghost of a chuckle. “I can’t even remember what we were fighting about…just that you made me furious as usual.”
“I don’t mean to make you furious.”
“No? I suppose that comes naturally to you as well. At least I’ve discovered a way to still your sharp tongue. But I can’t end every argument with you by tumbling you into bed.”
“Why not?” Katrine asked softly.
He laughed again, just as softly, but there was a grimness to his tone that chilled her. “A dozen reasons, but a thing called honor is probably the chief one.”
“Why can’t you pretend to be a mere cattle thief instead of a laird? Then you wouldn’t have to be concerned with honor.”
Sighing, Raith closed his eyes, bringing a forearm up to rest on his forehead. As he shifted his weight, though, a piece of straw ticking stabbed his back, making him flinch. “Callum mentioned that a pallet isn’t what you’re accustomed to sleeping on. Tomorrow you’ll move downstairs into one of the spare bedchambers. You can use it until you leave here.”
It was a concession, Katrine knew. He was willing now to accord her the same hospitality as a guest in his home. The trouble was that she didn’t want to leave. Not ever. And she wanted to be much more than a guest to him.
“Raith?” she said, gathering her courage. “I think I should tell you why I locked myself in the buttery. You see, I was tired of waiting for something to happen regarding my ransom, and I thought—”
“I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“But I need to tell you this. I wanted to force you to contact my uncle—”
“Katrine, we’ll discuss it tomorrow. In the morning you can lock yourself in a decent bedchamber and stay there as long as you like.”
At his brusque dismissal, her expression turned mutinous. “I think I’d prefer a dungeon. At least then you would have to treat me as a prisoner of war instead of a…a troublesome inconvenience.”
He refrained from commenting dryly that that was precisely what she was. “If I had a dungeon, I wouldn’t be so daft as to confine you there. You’d garner too much sympathy from my clan.”
“And I’d deserve it, too!”
Raith raised himself on one elbow. “Katrine, this isn’t the time to be arguing.”
“Why not?”