Dorrie started crying.
Dawn poked him in the chest and then made a gesture.
Lila remained silent and Cree did not take his eyes off Dawn when he threatened more than ordered, “Tell me what she said.”
Lila did as she was told, though her voice trembled as she said, “She wants to know if you have a heart.”
His dark eyes turned so cold and empty that Dawn grew frightened and took a step back. She didn’t get far. His hand snapped out and grabbed hold of her wrist.
Cree didn’t take his eyes off Dawn as he spoke. “Sloan, take Lila home and Elwin take Dorrie to her cottage and she is not to leave it until I say otherwise.”
“I won’t, my lord, I won’t,” Dorrie said her head bowed as she slipped past Cree.
Lila hesitated, fear for her friend’s fate evident in her wide eyes. Sloan stepped forward and tugged at her arm for her to follow. She reluctantly went with him, though her eyes never left Dawn until Sloan shut the door behind them.
Cree yanked Dawn closer planting her hand hard against his chest. “You want to know if I have a heart… I don’t. There is nothing there. It is empty. I feel nothing and care for no one. And it would be wise for you to remember who you deal with… a heartless warrior.”
Dawn could not believe that Cree had no heart, perhaps a silent one, one that never had the chance to be heard… voiceless like her. But her hand felt no thump, no beat, no life and she shivered.
“Damn it,” Cree growled angry that she had paid his words no heed and angry that she was chilled. “Didn’t I tell you to get rid of these rags?” He grabbed her blouse and ripped it down the middle. He did the same to her worn skirt and then ripped the torn garments off her body, leaving her to stand naked, except for her boots, in front of him.
Dawn was too shocked to move, though not too shocked for her body to quiver and it wasn’t from feeling chilled.
Cree stepped closer, his leather tunic brushing the tips of her nipples and hardening them in an instant while gooseflesh prickled her bare skin.
“My word is law and you will obey it.”
There was nothing left for her to do but nod.
“Stay as you are,” he ordered and turned and went to the door.
She wondered what he was doing when he opened it and stepped outside. She found out soon enough when he returned with a bucket of rainwater.
He placed it on the table. “Clean yourself.”
Surely he did not intend for her to wash in front of him, but she learned quickly enough that he had no intentions of going anywhere when he removed his leather tunic and slipped off his black shirt beneath.
“What do you wait for? Wash,” he ordered.
She could not stop her hands from shaking as she reached for the cloth that she had hung to dry by the fire. She told herself to be brave that he had seen her naked when they were in the hut together. But this was different, she argued with herself. The hut was dark with barely enough light for them to see each other. Here the room was aglow with the hearth’s light and her naked body clearly visible to him.
And worse… he didn’t take his eyes off her. They roamed over every inch of her as if he was inspecting her and determining her worth.
Hurry and be done with it, she admonished herself. Her hands continued to shake as she dipped the cloth in the rainwater and began to scrub her body. The rainwater was cold and she could not stop from shivering as she scrubbed the dirt off her body. She worked fast not only wanting to be done so that she could don her garments but to warm herself against the chill that felt as if it was seeping into her bones.
She undid the ties and slipped off her boots before bending over to wash her legs. She made sure to turn so that her back was to the hearth. Her breasts hung exposed but it was better than having her bare backside facing him.
The more he watched her the more it unnerved her. But then she supposed this was her punishment for freeing Dorrie, too humiliate her by making her tend herself while he watched.
She shivered again and turned to face the hearth needing the fire’s warmth.
She felt his presence behind her before his hand settled on her shoulder.
“Your back needs washing.”
He could not mean to wash her back. But when she tried to turn he squeezed her shoulder to still her.
“Stay as you are.”
His stern command froze her and she stiffened when she felt him rub the cloth over her back. When he dipped the cloth lower, running it over her backside much slower than was necessary, her body betrayed her sending a fit of tingles rushing between her legs.