Page 31 of Bride of Mist
Eventually, she relinquished the boot with a seductive sigh of relief and a breathy “Thank you.”
As he hunkered down to place her boot on the floor, she made a sensuous show of rolling off her stocking, slipping it down her thigh, inch by inch, before his eyes.
The sky blue of his gaze clouded over with the haze of desire. His jaw tensed. His brow furrowed. Then he gulped, as if his lust could be swallowed away and forgotten.
She dropped her stocking onto the floor. Dangling her bare feet over the edge of the pallet, she kicked playfully at the coverlet, melting him with a sultry smile.
But the smoke in his azure eyes as he looked up at her began to have a curious effect. Her smile faltered. Her breath grew shallow. Her cheeks grew hot. Wherever his gaze touched her, it felt like a burning brand searing his mark into her flesh.
The longer he stared, the more uneasy she became. What had started as heady triumph quickly splintered into dangerous uncertainty.
At this proximity, she could see the glaze of sweat on his brow. Inhale his spicy male scent. Hear the rasp of his breathing. Feel his breath on her knees.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Her ears hummed. The back of her neck tingled. Her skin grew warm. She felt simultaneously powerful and powerless.
The feeling was unbearable and wrong. It was utterly abhorrent to be attracted to a murderous Highland savage. So her mind told her.
Her body, however, wholeheartedly disagreed. It seemed perfectly content to fall under his seductive influence.
She had lured him into a loch of desire, deep and treacherous.
But the knave had dragged her in with him. And her only hope was that he’d succumb soon, before she did.
Once he began thrashing at her in a clumsy attempt at seduction, maybe then she could drown the brute once and for all.
Against his will, against his nature, against all that was right and chivalrous and honorable, Dougal felt himself bewitched by the beautiful lass.
It wasn’t right. It was irresponsible. He was supposed to be rescuing her. Saving her from a life of scrounging and thievery and selling her favors.
To a lass like her, he supposed all men were alike. A man was either a mark or a client.
If Dougal succumbed to lust, he’d only prove her right. Besides, he’d done enough damage in the last week. He didn’t deserve a woman’s charms or affection.
So, fighting back the urge to take her up on her unspoken invitation, to enfold her in his arms, to taste her soft lips, caress her silken skin, and sink his aching dagger into her welcome sheath—to cast out the demons that made him feel inhuman—he lowered his gaze, came to his feet, and backed away.
“Go on now,” he said hoarsely. “Get some rest.”
But the lass wasn’t finished attempting to seduce him. She was merciless. And as persistent as a wasp.
While he tried to busy himself—stirring the coals, taking off his gambeson, lining up his boots by the fire to dry—he couldn’t help but steal peeks at the lovely maid.
Moving her hands to the back of her head, she released the ribbon securing her coiled braid. Then she fingered loose the tendrils of her hair until they fell over her shoulders like the wide, dark waves of the sea.
He felt her eyes on him as he brushed the dust from his gambeson and laid it across the stool.
From the corner of his eye, he saw her curl a lock of hair around her finger again and again while he unbelted his plaid and shook out the folds.
As he laid out his plaid to make a rough bed on the floor, she drew up her knees to watch him, tucking her legs under her surcoat and wrapping her arms about them. Her pale toes peeped out beneath the green hem, reminding him of the wee white shells he often found along the beach.
If he hadn’t been determined to ignore her advances, he would have found her seductions irresistible.
Finally, as he folded his gambeson into a makeshift pillow, she let out a sigh.
“I suppose you’ll be tying me up,” she said.
“What? Nay.” He scowled. Sweet Mary, what sort of perversions was the lass accustomed to? “Why would I do that?”
She shrugged her bare shoulder. “So I won’t escape.”
