Page 11 of Bride of Fire
Perhaps the lass was frozen solid.
Another breeze lifted the veil higher, exposing full breasts tipped by nipples as tempting as cherries. A groan caught in his throat as the twinge grew into a definite swelling.
Then guilt struck him like a blacksmith’s hammer, overriding his desire. How could he be aroused when he’d just lost his wife? How could he evenlookat another lass?
Self-disgust tested his temper.
He wanted the lass gone. Now.
“What do ye want?” he yelled down impatiently.
She slowly raised a straight arm to point at him and intoned in a husky moan, “Yooouuu. Muuuuust. Gooooooooooo.”
Her sinister directive would have sent chills up the spine of a lesser man. But he knew very well she was mortal. And when she delivered her message, he quickly recognized her ploy for what it was. The mischievous imp had decided to badger her new, unwelcome neighbor.
He supposed it could be worse. She could have thrown rocks at the windows or hung a dead cat on the fence.
As he continued to stare down at the beautiful, hostile lass, he almost wished shewerea ghost. It was unsettling to have a naked lass cavorting beneath his window. And he didn’t much care for her issuing demands.
He crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling to bend to her beauty or her intimidation.
“I must go?” he called out in unimpressed tones. “Is that so?”
“Aaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyeeeeeee,” she wailed, making a slow and graceful turn that gave him an inviting glimpse of her tempting backside.
He didn’t want to think about it. “Who says so?”
“Iiiiiiiiii d-d-d-oooooooo.”
He could hear the shiver of the cold in her voice. He wondered if someone else had put her up to this. Perhaps a gang of local whelps had wagered on who would do the badgering, and she’d lost.
The lass must be half-frozen. Surely she couldn’t keep this up for long. Sooner or later, she’d decide pestering the new neighbor wasn’t worth the price of becoming an icicle.
“Ye do?” he asked. “And just who do ye think ye are?”
“A ghooooooooooooost.”
As she lifted her arms, a gust of wind plastered the veil to her body, outlining the seductive curve of her waist.
Desire made him lose his words for a moment. Finally he managed to shout back, “Nobody warned me Creagor was haunted.”
“Ohhhh, aaaayyyeee,” she cried, waving one arm toward the forest. “Byyyyyyyyyy maaaaaaaaaany ghooooooosts.”
If he weren’t so tired…and battered…and inappropriately aroused, he might have found her performance amusing.
She lowered an accusing finger at him again. “Yooouuu. Muuuuust. Go—”
“I heard ye the first time,” he bellowed back, closing one of the shutters. “Well then, carry on! Just see ye don’t freeze to death. I don’t want to wake in the mornin’ to the sight o’—”
A wail interrupted him.
This time it wasn’t the lass.
It was his bairn.
For some unfathomable reason, the nursemaids had decided to keep his son in the chamber adjoining his.
He grimaced. No doubt his shouting and the lass’s moans had awakened the child.
