wanting the warming so much that she nearly stuck her foot in his open, offering hand.
"We must warm you quickly or you'll catch an illness."
"I'm s-s-strong." Her teeth chattered. "I am never sick."
"You could get frostbite on those toes." He slipped his hand under the dripping hem of her skirt, finding her foot with a delicious shock of heat. She shifted to allow his touch.
As his firm caresses brought the blood flow back to her toes, she winced. "It stings," she admitted.
He rubbed more gently, his fingers sliding over her ankles and up under the wet hems of her cotton knickers to warm her lower legs. The feeling was intimate, delicious, dangerous. She gasped as the heat spread through her limbs.
Teeth still chattering, she sat quietly. No man had ever touched her like this, so freely, but she had to accept it—
Wanted it, she realized, feeling as if some hidden wellspring within her was being tapped. Warmth and a curious thrill flowed through her. She wanted to feel his hands all over her body—had wondered what his embrace would feel like, had wondered what caresses, kisses, more, would be like with him.
Gentle, like this, she thought. Tender and deep and then heightening to passion.
She had known only inept fumblings in a dark loft with a young man, a friend of her brother. Those brief, immature fondlings had hinted that magnificent feelings, secrets, existed in touch, in tenderness, in closeness. In love.
But such things were not for her—not for the plain girl.
Watching the glossy dark crown of Evan Mackenzie's hair, she wanted to caress that silkiness, touch him and let him touch her in turn anywhere. Anywhere, she thought, sighing, closing her eyes.
Opening them again to see his gaze on her.
She sat straight, pulled her foot away. "Thank you," she said, teeth still chattering. "That's enough." It was not.
"Your clothing is soaked."
"They'll dry if I sit here by the fire."
"Those wee embers will not dry anything." He set a hand on her arm, looking at her earnestly. "Listen now. If you stay in those garments all night, you'll take a chill."
"It will be fine," she insisted.
He shook his head. "Get those wet things off now, Miss MacConn."
Chapter 5
"No, I—" Catriona pulled away from him as if alarmed.
"Modesty is admirable, but do not jeopardize your health or your life. It is not necessary."
"M-my l-life?" She was shuddering now, her cheeks pale, lips a shadowy blue. He could literally hear her teeth rattling together. The girl was cold, so cold, and he wanted to take her in his arms, warm her, kiss her—kiss her. What had put that in his mind at such a time as this, an immediate dilemma?
"Aye, your breath could slow, your body temperature could drop. If you fall asleep like that, you might never wake up. It feels almost warm, that sort of chill, almost comfortable. You fall asleep, and then—well, you could die."
"You sound as if you know what that's like."
"I do. Far too well. Now consider removing your things—just until you are warmer."
"Were you... exposed to such cold while c-c-climbing in the Alps?" she asked, shivering.
He bent to take her feet again to cup and warm them. "We were well prepared and were able to keep warm and dry there. No, I learned the dangers of real cold underwater." He glanced at her. "I'm a master undersea diver. We risk severe chill each time we go down the deep."
"D-diving! How inter-interesting," she said, shivering almost violently. "I've seen p-pictures in books. Is it so cold down in the ocean, Mr. Mac-mac-kenzie?"
He frowned and tugged his jacket more securely around her shoulders, rubbing her arms. "Aye. But the worst cold I have known was when a bridge collapsed into a river. I was there."
She gasped. "Did you fall into the water?"
He shook his head and rubbed her hands gently. Despite the pleasant distraction of her soft skin and slender, lovely fingers, his thoughts were elsewhere. "I dove into the water with others—we tried to help those
"We must warm you quickly or you'll catch an illness."
"I'm s-s-strong." Her teeth chattered. "I am never sick."
"You could get frostbite on those toes." He slipped his hand under the dripping hem of her skirt, finding her foot with a delicious shock of heat. She shifted to allow his touch.
As his firm caresses brought the blood flow back to her toes, she winced. "It stings," she admitted.
He rubbed more gently, his fingers sliding over her ankles and up under the wet hems of her cotton knickers to warm her lower legs. The feeling was intimate, delicious, dangerous. She gasped as the heat spread through her limbs.
Teeth still chattering, she sat quietly. No man had ever touched her like this, so freely, but she had to accept it—
Wanted it, she realized, feeling as if some hidden wellspring within her was being tapped. Warmth and a curious thrill flowed through her. She wanted to feel his hands all over her body—had wondered what his embrace would feel like, had wondered what caresses, kisses, more, would be like with him.
Gentle, like this, she thought. Tender and deep and then heightening to passion.
She had known only inept fumblings in a dark loft with a young man, a friend of her brother. Those brief, immature fondlings had hinted that magnificent feelings, secrets, existed in touch, in tenderness, in closeness. In love.
But such things were not for her—not for the plain girl.
Watching the glossy dark crown of Evan Mackenzie's hair, she wanted to caress that silkiness, touch him and let him touch her in turn anywhere. Anywhere, she thought, sighing, closing her eyes.
Opening them again to see his gaze on her.
She sat straight, pulled her foot away. "Thank you," she said, teeth still chattering. "That's enough." It was not.
"Your clothing is soaked."
"They'll dry if I sit here by the fire."
"Those wee embers will not dry anything." He set a hand on her arm, looking at her earnestly. "Listen now. If you stay in those garments all night, you'll take a chill."
"It will be fine," she insisted.
He shook his head. "Get those wet things off now, Miss MacConn."
Chapter 5
"No, I—" Catriona pulled away from him as if alarmed.
"Modesty is admirable, but do not jeopardize your health or your life. It is not necessary."
"M-my l-life?" She was shuddering now, her cheeks pale, lips a shadowy blue. He could literally hear her teeth rattling together. The girl was cold, so cold, and he wanted to take her in his arms, warm her, kiss her—kiss her. What had put that in his mind at such a time as this, an immediate dilemma?
"Aye, your breath could slow, your body temperature could drop. If you fall asleep like that, you might never wake up. It feels almost warm, that sort of chill, almost comfortable. You fall asleep, and then—well, you could die."
"You sound as if you know what that's like."
"I do. Far too well. Now consider removing your things—just until you are warmer."
"Were you... exposed to such cold while c-c-climbing in the Alps?" she asked, shivering.
He bent to take her feet again to cup and warm them. "We were well prepared and were able to keep warm and dry there. No, I learned the dangers of real cold underwater." He glanced at her. "I'm a master undersea diver. We risk severe chill each time we go down the deep."
"D-diving! How inter-interesting," she said, shivering almost violently. "I've seen p-pictures in books. Is it so cold down in the ocean, Mr. Mac-mac-kenzie?"
He frowned and tugged his jacket more securely around her shoulders, rubbing her arms. "Aye. But the worst cold I have known was when a bridge collapsed into a river. I was there."
She gasped. "Did you fall into the water?"
He shook his head and rubbed her hands gently. Despite the pleasant distraction of her soft skin and slender, lovely fingers, his thoughts were elsewhere. "I dove into the water with others—we tried to help those
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