Highlander’s Captive (Highlander Trilogy 3)

Torr took her hand. “We are both exhausted and need sleep.” He moved his hand to her waist and led her to the curtain, pushing it aside so that she could enter.

It was a small, yet welcoming room. A fire glowed and its warmth filled the confined space. A chest sat at the end of a bed that would easily sleep two people. The bedding appeared freshly washed and Wintra wanted nothing more than to sink into it and let sleep claim her, so that she did not have to think another moment about this day, or all the days since she had left the abbey.

Torr stepped away from her and began to disrobe.

“What are you doing?” she asked anxiously and took a step away from him.

“Taking my clothes off.”

“Why?

“To go to bed,” he said while continuing to undress.

“You are going to sleep naked beside me?’

“I have done it before.”

“But it’s different now,” she insisted.

“Yes, it is. We are husband and wife and have the right to be naked in front of each other. Actually, we had that right when we first met. So your honor was never truly in any danger.”

Wintra was about to argue with him when she realized that one more garment and he would be stark naked. Her heart beat a bit faster, and she was about to turn her back on him when she found herself frozen in place.

She tried to keep her eyes from roaming, but it was difficult. He was a fine looking man from top to bottom, and that was where her eyes went from top to bottom and in between, lingering more on the in between. He was such a powerfully built man, his body so tempting that she shivered with the thought of making love with him.

He walked over to her and she took several steps back as he approached, but it did not matter.

His arm snaked out to catch her around the waist and draw her close. “Take your clothes off and come to bed.”

She could feel the heat of him through her garments, and it was intoxicating. She recalled how his hands had warmed her naked flesh when she had been so cold and how their bodies had snuggled so intimately to keep warm. He had grown hard then just as he did now. It was obvious he wanted her, and she could not deny that she wanted him.

Her head began to throb, and she turned her back to him, rubbing her temple. She could not think straight. Her mind was filled with jumbled thoughts and nothing made sense. She wanted something—anything to make sense.

She stiffened when his arm slipped around her waist and when he tried to ease her back against him, she held her ground. She was much too vulnerable at the moment, and she had already made decisions she had regretted. She would not do that again.

Torr was hard and aching to make love to his wife, to show her what he felt for her was real, not something forced on him out of duty. Now, however, was not the time—or was it?

“You need sleep,” he said, knowing endless thoughts were probably buzzing in her head and the only way she would get any relief was sleep or for him to make love to her.

Wintra did not argue with him. She slipped away from him, relieved that he let her go, and sat on the chest to remove her boots. She wanted desperately to strip herself bare and discard the patched wool dress beneath her shift. But when Torr had scurried her away, her clothes had been left behind.

Then she recalled what Dawn had told her about the clothes in the chest and hurried over to it, dropping to her knees to push at the lid.

Torr was quickly at her side. “What are you doing?”

She wished he would not stand so near to her, especially since he was naked and aroused. She kept her eyes averted, but it wasn’t easy since she was on her knees in front of the chest and he was standing at her side. His arousal was much too close to her face. If she turned, her lips would brush it, and she was surprised that the thought actually appealed rather than repulsed her. She would have never believed that she would find the thought inviting after the incident in the cottage with Owen. But then Torr was not Owen.

The thought jolted her for a moment. Torr was nothing like Owen, and she would do well to remember that.

“Dawn told me there were garments in this chest I could make use of. I hope to find a night dress.”

He pressed his hand on the lid. “Nothing stops us from sleeping naked together. And that is how we shall sleep tonight—naked together.”

The idea that she would feel uncomfortable undressing in front of him disturbed him. It meant that she did not trust him, and that he did not want, and so he would not give her the chance to do so. Not to mention that he ached to have her naked in his arms.