Page 70 of Sinbound to the Highlander
“What will?”
Rising from her spot, Freya sat, and the wide neck of the léine slipped to bare the tops of her breasts. She reached out for him, resting a hand on his cheek, “Kiss me?”
His eyebrows darted to his hairline, “Pardon?”
Freya got to her knees and tugging the tails of the underdress to free her knees, and she straddled him. “I want yer company, Evan, please, distract me from all this madness.”
Stunned, Evan softly shifted her away, “Nay, Freya.”
“Why nae?” she pleaded, dipping her head to kiss his jaw, “We’ve coupled before.”
His astonishment to her salacious actions, especially when she should be grieving and worried, had him deeply confounded, and he pushed her away. Freya was never this forthright, and he began to worry what those few days being in Elspeth’s company had done to her.
Mayhap it’s the shock of seein’ her sister fall.
“Nay, Freya, ye’re nay kenning things right. Ye need time to rest, the shock of Elspeth’s accident is affecting ye.”
Firmly lifting her off his lap, Evan placed Freya on the bed, “Ye need to eat somethin’ and rest. I’ll be sleepin’ on the floor.”
“Evan!” she sniffled. “I need ye and yer—”
“I’m allowing ye time to realize how perilous this is,” Evan cut in tenderly but with steel under his tone. “Yer sister is either dead or alive, and ye need to put yer energies into praying for her miraculous recovery.”
Her jaw worked a little, and obstinacy set her shoulders in a line, but then she folded in on herself, hung her head humbly, and fiddled with the sheet on her lap.
Her tone was resigned, “Aye, yer right. I wasnae seeing things right. I just daenae want to ken what might be happening to Elspeth now. I’m nay sure what I would do if she is dead.”
The ire that was building inside Evan began to peter out at Freya’s humble acceptance of his censure. She lifted her head, “I understand, can ye just kiss me? I daenae want to let ye ken somethin’ bad of me; it’s just the worry tears me apart, and I would rather nay ken about it.”
Indulgent, Evan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, before opening her lips a little and stroking her tongue with his. Pulling away, Evan pressed a kiss to her forehead, hoping to soothe her further.
When he pulled back, he cupped her neck and rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. Her eyes dropped to her lap, and all Evan could think of was how this woman was now in his care, and how he would have given all he could to take the pain out of her heart. He never wanted anything terrible to happen to her again, and when they were wed, he would make sure she wouldn’t have to.
But then…why is she acting so strange? Freya never initiated intimacy before.
That issue gave him pause, but his thoughts halted when a knock came at his door, and a servant came in with a tray of food. He took the tray with a grateful nod and went to Freya, who was waiting on the bed. He fixed it on her lap, and handed her a cup of warm milk.
“Drink first,” he ordered, “then eat yer fill.”
As she did, Evan noticed her hesitancy, how she would pause before eating; it was as if she was forcing the food down. Halfway through the meal, she set the food aside to tuck her legs up under her chin. Her arms wrapped around her legs, and she propped her chin on her knees.
“I cannae eat,” she mumbled, “Me stomach is too uneasy.”
“I understand,” he inclined his head. “Distress will cut yer hunger.”
She peeked up from the circle of her arms, “And I’m sorry about tryin’ to couple with ye. I just miss yer comfort, how ye held me that night. I felt I needed ye that way, but I realize I’m nay settled enough in me spirit to be with ye that way—I apologize.”
“And I accept,” Evan replied. “Ye should rest, Freya.”
She slipped under the covers, and he stayed where he was, just looking on, worried about her. Before he went to his bed, he went to tuck the blanket over her, brushing his knuckles over her cheek, lightly touching the freckles he loved so much.
Going back to his cot, Evan tugged his covers over himself, and as he flicked his hand up, he saw a small reddish-black smudge on his third knuckle and dismissed it.
It’s probably just dirt. I have to find Elspeth, for Freya’s sake more than mine.
But the reality lingered...what if she could not be found? What then?
