Page 30 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
He grunted in response. That was fine. All of this was fine.
“Good night, Major McCameron,” she said, attempting to make her voice sound sleepy. Either she tried to convince him or herself—both were equally probable.
“’Night,” he rumbled.
She plumped her pillow, then laid her head down on it. The pillow in and of itself was decent enough, but she couldn’t seem to get comfortable on it. For that matter, the strip of mattress she had at her disposal felt rather stiff and unyielding. Or perhaps that was her own body, which she held in rigid, unfamiliar positions to keep from touching the major. And shewould notallow herself to come into contact with any part of him. Much as she fought against the desire to plaster herself to his broad back, and wrap her arms and legs around him, and rub against his hot skin.
Hewasvery warm, his flesh radiating heat that seeped into her own. In a way, it was much morepleasant to share a bed with someone rather than rely on using a bed warmer to chase the chill from the sheets.
His heat offered comfort. For the first time ever, she wasn’t truly alone in bed. Granted, she and Major McCameron were the furthest thing from lovers—and yet he was here now. All of his warmth soaked into her limbs, settling her, anchoring her, and she sank down into it.
She came awake gradually, settling into peaceful awareness. Sunlight teased under her closed eyes. Had she truly slept the night away? She supposed she ought to get up and get dressed, since they had a distance to cross today, and Major McCameron would likely be irritated with her if she caused any delays. But this washertrip to enjoy, and besides, the bed was so warm, and the man who held her was so delightfully solid, so beautifully muscled, his arms wrapped securely around her as though she was precious and he couldn’t get enough of her.
Her eyes flew open.
The major embraced her, his chest pressed to her back. Oh, God, was that his cock pressed into her arse? His very erect, very hard cock?
She made the mistake of glancing back at him, and he looked exquisitely rumpled as he slept, his hair mussed and his chin stubbled. There was a small crease between his brows, as if even as he slumbered,he never fully divested himself of his sense of responsibility.
His cock, however, seemed ready for pleasure.
Perhaps this was a sign. A wonderful, wonderful sign that she and the major ought to act on their mutual attraction.
No sooner had the thought entered her mind, the major’s body went taut. He sucked in a breath and quickly released his hold of her as though she had been on fire.
“It’s just biology,” he said tightly, edging away from her.
So, he was awake.
She rolled onto her side to face him and found his expression to be mortifyingly appalled.
“Doesn’t signify anything,” he clipped.
“What do you mean?”
“You saw your husband when he woke up,” he explained. “What happened to his... his body.”
“Edward and I...” She cleared her throat, and busied herself with picking at a frayed thread on the counterpane. Words flew from her mouth, and she hadn’t the presence of mind to stop their flow, still too addled from sleep and the feel of his body against hers. “We didn’t sleep in the same bed. He’d come to my room on the nights he wanted... and afterward, he’d leave. And then, even that stopped soon after the children were born.”
Why had she confessed that to him? There was nopossible reason to give him concrete evidence that Edward had never truly been attracted to her. Edward had seen her as many things—muse, mother of his children—but not lover. Not someone to be desired.
“If it’s merely biology,” she said, attempting an offhand tone, “that must mean you don’t find me arousing.”
“Not what I said.” He raised himself up on an elbow, careful to keep his other hand on his crotch. “I do. Find you arousing.”
Her heart pounded with exultation—she hadn’t been mistaken last night. “I feel the same way.”
He sucked in a breath, and his nostrils flared.
“But it isn’t a good idea,” he continued, and it sounded as though he strained for a sensible, reasonable tone whilst also shielding her gaze from his hard cock, “to do anything about this attraction we share.”
Difficult to hold on to her pleasure in the face of his prevarication. “Why not?”
Major McCameron flexed his free hand, as if trying to keep himself from wrapping it around something. From wrapping it aroundher.
He sat upright and swung his legs around so that he perched on the edge of the bed, his back to her. In the morning light, she could see much more of him, all the shapes of his muscles, and that there were more scars than she’d originally realized. A few came from knives, but there were puckered circles, too, which had to have come from bullets.
She’d heard that the greatest threat to a soldier wasn’t the initial wounding, but the fever that often followed. Somehow, he’d lived through all of them, many times. What a will he had to survive again and again.
