Page 78 of Bride of Mist
She followed his gaze and realized he was looking for his linen drying cloth. He’d left it on the bed.
Her initial wicked temptation was to force him to parade, naked and dripping, across the room to get it.
Courtesy won out, however, and she rose on quavering limbs to fetch the cloth for him. Which wasn’t necessarily a better option.
As she held the cloth up before her, he faced away from her to stand, waiting for her to drape it over his shoulders. But she hesitated, biting her lip and letting her eyes follow a drop of water as it trickled down his well-muscled back. Past his tapering waist. Disappearing into the cleft between his firm buttocks.
When he cleared his throat expectantly, she thrust the cloth forward, lingering a moment as it clung to his damp shoulders.
She should have backed away then. Returned to her safe seat at the hearth. Averted her eyes and diverted her thoughts.
But she couldn’t make her feet move.
Even when he slung the linen around his hips, tying it with a decisive knot, and turned to face her, she stood rooted to the spot.
And when his gaze strayed swiftly down the length of her, the heat of it impacted her so powerfully, she let out an audible sigh.
Then his jaw tightened, and he glared at the floor.
“Leave me in peace, m’lady,” he growled. “Ye’re playin’ with fire.”
He was right, of course. Damn him.
Surrendering to their passions would be a mistake of the worst kind. Not only a moral mistake. But a strategic one as well. How could he possibly use her for leverage if he swived her? And how could she maintain a warrior’s emotional distance if she swived him?
Still, it stung to be so rebuked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly, turning on her heel and marching back to the chair beside the hearth.
Grabbing the poker, she literally began to play with fire, cracking the coals one by one, pretending they were the black hearts of her enemies. She managed to distract herself enough long enough for him to finish drying off.
But he was still clad in only the linen wrap when he snatched the poker away from her.
“Easy, m’lady,” he said. “Ye’ll kill them all, and we’ll have no fire for the night.”
Her first impious thought was of other ways they could keep warm. But she dared not share that with him.
Even with the fire out, the shutters flung wide, and the covers off, Dougal wouldn’t be cold. Not while the lovely lass was in the room.
But one of them had to throw a bucket of icy water on whatever was happening here. Not only was it improper. It was dangerous.
Until they learned the truth about Kirkoswald, they had to maintain an air of cautious alliance. The fate of three clans was at stake. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize that arrangement with an ill-timed tryst.
Maybe later, he told himself. Maybe—if mac Giric was absolved and Rivenloch belayed their attack, once the real defiler was discovered and justice rendered—Dougal would celebrate with the wee warrior maid. Maybe then the two of them would consummate their mutual interest with a secret and rewarding tryst betwixt the sheets.
But they were still two days’ journey from Castle Darragh. Two days from interrogating the Fortanach brothers. Two days from discovering what additional clues might be found at Kirkoswald. Until then, as difficult as it was, he had to maintain a safe distance from the lass who might or might not prove to be harboring outlaws.
That was the sobering truth of it, what convinced him to ignore his carnal cravings and focus on solving the crime. Though it was nigh impossible to imagine sweet-faced Feiyan being part of such a brutal act, he would be a fool to trust a wily warrior lass known for deception.
She came from a clan with no mercy, after all. A clan where women fought alongside men. Where slaying a man in his sleep was apparently acceptable.
He couldn’t deny he looked forward to exonerating her, to proving her innocence…and, in a wishful corner of his mind, sampling her virtue. But he dared not let his desire for her cloud his judgment.
Meanwhile, the sooner they puzzled out what had happened, the sooner he could think about engaging in that much more entertaining pastime.
He propped the poker against the hearthstones.
“I’d like to ask ye somethin’,” he said.
