backed away from the door, her eyes scanning the room for something heavy enough to bar his way. Her scowl deepened when she eyed the small chest and lightweight table and chairs. None of the sparse furnishings offered sufficient weight to keep Jack out. Still, she was too confused and exhausted to face him.
She expelled a sigh of defeat just as the door swung wide. He stepped into the small room, which seemed to shrink around her with the addition of his massive frame. Despite the tongue lashing she longed to give him, she instinctively backed away, pressing against the thatched wall. Her frustration was giving way to trepidation. She was alone at night in the woods with a man who was both savior and captor. At that moment, she certainly felt more captive than saved. There was nowhere to run. He eyed her as if she were a fine cut of meat at market.
From his sporran he pulled out a thin linen robe. “Courtesy of Rose.”
She stared up at him unable to speak. Her mouth was dry and her heart pounded in her ears. Despite how she tried to think of something else, her mind fixated on the last time they had been alone in his hut. As if of their own accord, her eyes traveled to his full lips, lips that had been pressed against her own. She tried desperately to hold in her mind the many reasons she should dislike the man standing in front of her, but when she met his gaze, she suddenly felt as if she were drowning in a black sea. His eyes bore into hers. He took a step toward her. Her breath hitched. Again he stepped closer. She fought to swallow, but her throat suddenly felt thick. He stood so close now. She opened her mouth to protest, to punish his audacity and pride, but the words did not come. Her objections remained lodged in her throat along with her thundering heart as he planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head. Surrounding her, he enclosed her in a cage of muscle and his all too familiar woody scent. He was so big and strong and smelled so good. He was unlike any man she had ever met. The intensity of his ebony gaze burned through her like wild fire. He drew closer still. She could not breathe. Slowly, he bent his head, lowering his lips until they were a breath away from hers. A sweet ache coiled in her stomach. She closed her eyes and waited for his lips to touch hers, but they never came. A cool breeze caressed her cheek and forced open her eyes the instant before the door shut behind him.
Her knees gave way, and she slid to the ground, resting her head against the thatched wall. “Jack,” she whispered.
She hid behind her hands. Dear Lord above, her body had been awakened by the last man on God’s green earth she should ever want. Her mind was spinning out of control as the day’s events combined with the tumult of new sensations coursing through her body. She gripped her stomach, feeling as though she would be sick again, but it was not bile that pushed for a way out. A wave of tears stung her eyes, and she collapsed beneath the weight of the day.
~ * ~
With hands in tight fists, Jack plowed his way through the grove. His heart thundered in his chest, igniting a searing pain that pulsed at his temples. He stormed around a copse of birch trees and passed into a small glen, heading straight for a clear, deep brook. Jerking his tunic over his head, he dove into the icy water and let the chill ease his body. God above, he wanted her.
“Why?” he growled out loud.
He had spent less than a full day in her company, and here he was fixating on her, burning for her. Hell, he had nearly taken her against the wall, and what drove him near to madness was that she might have actually welcomed his touch. He closed his eyes then to better remember her parting lips and quick breaths as she held still, waiting for his kiss.
He should have taken her. What sort of lady would not fight the advances of a commoner, and a thief at that? Perhaps she was free with her kisses and made light of her virtue with the
She expelled a sigh of defeat just as the door swung wide. He stepped into the small room, which seemed to shrink around her with the addition of his massive frame. Despite the tongue lashing she longed to give him, she instinctively backed away, pressing against the thatched wall. Her frustration was giving way to trepidation. She was alone at night in the woods with a man who was both savior and captor. At that moment, she certainly felt more captive than saved. There was nowhere to run. He eyed her as if she were a fine cut of meat at market.
From his sporran he pulled out a thin linen robe. “Courtesy of Rose.”
She stared up at him unable to speak. Her mouth was dry and her heart pounded in her ears. Despite how she tried to think of something else, her mind fixated on the last time they had been alone in his hut. As if of their own accord, her eyes traveled to his full lips, lips that had been pressed against her own. She tried desperately to hold in her mind the many reasons she should dislike the man standing in front of her, but when she met his gaze, she suddenly felt as if she were drowning in a black sea. His eyes bore into hers. He took a step toward her. Her breath hitched. Again he stepped closer. She fought to swallow, but her throat suddenly felt thick. He stood so close now. She opened her mouth to protest, to punish his audacity and pride, but the words did not come. Her objections remained lodged in her throat along with her thundering heart as he planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head. Surrounding her, he enclosed her in a cage of muscle and his all too familiar woody scent. He was so big and strong and smelled so good. He was unlike any man she had ever met. The intensity of his ebony gaze burned through her like wild fire. He drew closer still. She could not breathe. Slowly, he bent his head, lowering his lips until they were a breath away from hers. A sweet ache coiled in her stomach. She closed her eyes and waited for his lips to touch hers, but they never came. A cool breeze caressed her cheek and forced open her eyes the instant before the door shut behind him.
Her knees gave way, and she slid to the ground, resting her head against the thatched wall. “Jack,” she whispered.
She hid behind her hands. Dear Lord above, her body had been awakened by the last man on God’s green earth she should ever want. Her mind was spinning out of control as the day’s events combined with the tumult of new sensations coursing through her body. She gripped her stomach, feeling as though she would be sick again, but it was not bile that pushed for a way out. A wave of tears stung her eyes, and she collapsed beneath the weight of the day.
~ * ~
With hands in tight fists, Jack plowed his way through the grove. His heart thundered in his chest, igniting a searing pain that pulsed at his temples. He stormed around a copse of birch trees and passed into a small glen, heading straight for a clear, deep brook. Jerking his tunic over his head, he dove into the icy water and let the chill ease his body. God above, he wanted her.
“Why?” he growled out loud.
He had spent less than a full day in her company, and here he was fixating on her, burning for her. Hell, he had nearly taken her against the wall, and what drove him near to madness was that she might have actually welcomed his touch. He closed his eyes then to better remember her parting lips and quick breaths as she held still, waiting for his kiss.
He should have taken her. What sort of lady would not fight the advances of a commoner, and a thief at that? Perhaps she was free with her kisses and made light of her virtue with the
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