Emma asked, "Do you think it will work out for Aunt Luce and Garreth?"
"I do know this - my brother is nigh head over heels for your aunt."
He could feel her grinning against his chest. "If he's anything like you, then my aunt is going to be head over heels for your brother."
"Let's hope. Garreth has long needed a good woman in his life. Now, aingeal" - he curled his forefinger under her chin, lifting her face - "did you happen to wake thirsty?"
26
Though exhaustion weighed on Lucia, she had no hope for sleep.
A storm was boiling outside, and as the boat slogged through the night, the bow collided with log after log, keeping her on edge. Now she understood why the fore cabin wasn't preferred.
Long after MacRieve had left, she stared at the door, imagining what would have happened if she'd made different choices, if she could have enjoyed a night with a virile male, with no repercussions. The only thing between them was her past, her shameful past.
And her blighted future.
If the Scot was disgusted by her vow of chastity, how would he react when he knew she'd bedded the devil?
She was lying in the dark, peering at the cabin's new fist-sized porthole, when MacRieve returned, soaked through. Without a word, he grabbed a shaving kit out of his bag, then headed for the shower.
Shaving? And he took my bow with him?
When he exited ten minutes later, he wore nothing but a towel and his cuff. His face was smooth, now clean shaven. He set her bow case by the cabin door, then shook out his hair - wolflike.
Dear gods, the man was fine. His damp skin was tan, his chest muscular perfection, with golden hair on the center. She wanted to rub her face against it.
At the mere sight of him like this, her exhaustion began to fade, her traitorous body readying against her will. She dug her curling claws into her palms and furtively clenched her thighs.
"My path is clear to me," he said, his expression inscrutable.
"You'll leave?"
"Nay, beauty. Was thinking." He sat at the edge of the bed. "You weren't completely chaste in the bayou that first night. So I figure we can do whatever we did then."
"Whatever we did?"
"You can still be chaste, just no' have intercourse. That's why you stopped me in the swamp - if I had no' tried to take you, I'll bet you would've let me continue to my own end."
Her lips parted. "No, you can't know that."
"You said you will no' take a male into your body. Does no' mean I canna suckle and stroke you. Does no' mean you canna do the same to me."
"We'll lose control." He could seduce her - she would surrender to that wild recklessness inside her. "You'll try to get me to do more."
"Will no'. I'll wait until you tell me you're ready. You'll have to tell me you want me."
She hesitated. "I might get... caught up and say something I'll regret."
"Then you'd have to say it when we are no' in bed."
He was getting that look in his eyes. Her heart began racing, drowning out any lingering fatigue. Before her mind shut down, she needed to extract a vow from him. "No matter what happened. No matter what I said. Or did?"
"I'd never do anything you dinna want. Why I got this cuff from the bluidy witches."
"I mean it! You would vow to the Lore?"
"Aye, I vow it," he said. "Are we agreed?"
Yet soon she felt his fingers stroking her folds, probing her opening. "MacRieve!"
"Keep goin'." His chest was heaving. "I'm going to put my finger in. Nothing more. Just my - "
"No!" She slammed her knees shut.
He forced them back open. "Then just my tongue." With his callused palms flat on her inner thighs, pinning her legs open, he leaned down and set his mouth directly upon her sex.
She sucked in a shocked breath. Lightning lit the room.