This woman awoke things in him, things that unsettled him beyond words. He was supposed to have control. That was what he'd learned to do all his life. But the fierce desire she stirred within him was beyond reason. The feeling of her perfect body made him hard, aching for her. The yearning was fierce within him, and her form beside him provoked feelings and sensations he hadn't felt in years.
The mere thing preventing him from touching her was his honor—the fragments of control still dwelling within him, keeping him from snatching her body, making love to it—to her.
She wasn’t his to take. He knew. Yet, from the moment she’d set foot in that hall, he'd been fantasizing of her naked form atop the messy sheets of his bed, her beautiful mouth begging for his kisses.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to need a woman. He'd thought that part of him had died the night his wife did. This new, perverse desire was strange to him. He decided to find sleep instead of dreaming about a woman who wouldn't want him back, even when he believed that he could have her willing in a matter of seconds.
He closed his eyes and called for sleep. Eventually, it found him. For the first time since his wife died, no nightmare plagued him, no cold sweat attacked his body—he just… slept. And he blamed the woman in his hands for it.
* * *
Jane woke slowly at dawn, and she felt aches and pains spread across her body. Her entire torso felt stretched and tight as if her skin fit too snugly around her bones. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her stomach rumbled. But through all of this, she felt a delightful warmth around her. She curled gratefully further toward the warmth, not caring about anything else.
It slowly dawned on her waking mind that sheshouldn'tbe feeling this warm. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself looking into the face of Darach Robertson. He was still sleeping, and he looked at peace. His face was spotless, smooth, and there was no darkness to be seen.
When did he carry me?
Her eyes caught the fact that he was barely dressed.
I’ve laid entangled with a half-naked man all night!
This was a scandal, surely. Darach Robertson might have just ruined her even further by sleeping up against her. A surge of shock and anger went through her body, but it was quickly replaced by gratitude when she realized he'd covered her with his clothes to keep her from catching the chill.
Why has he done that?
Whyhadhe cared about her well-being so much that he'd brought her close to keep her from the cold, even after she'd rejected his offer?
Suddenly, she realized this was herdream. It was all she’d wanted, all through those lonely years of her childhood—someone to wrap her in an embrace when she was scared or cold. She remembered the days when she'd envied Aileen. After their mother's death, the girls had suffered terrible nightmares and their father let her sister spend the night in his arms whenever she needed it—but not Jane. Never her.
She had needed to face her fears alone. Months after her mother's death, the nightmares and fear had buried deep into her. And then had come the little knife, and then had come the cut on her chest.
What she'd spent years hoping for but not finding in her own family, she'd found in just one night with the man who abducted her.
She’d finally gotten an embrace to protect her from the fears and chills of the night.
Looking at Darach’s face, she wondered if the prophecy could have been a mistake. Could this really be the one who was destined to bring her doom?
The man slumbering before her didn't look like it. The rumors of his cruelty, of his ruthlessness and ambition had led her to expect the devil himself, but this man had been far from that to her. As he slept, his long, blond hair had curled around his face, and he looked terribly… sweet. He looked peaceful too, as if untainted by horror, bloody blades, and battles screams. At his side, his sword gleamed in light of the rising day, deadly sharp.
He suddenly stirred, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Shocked, Jane stared transfixed at the change such a simple gesture had wrought on his features.
My, but he is quite handsome.
Yet she knew he was so much more than the peaceful sleeping man. He was a warrior, a murderer, and now a thief. Still, he fascinated her so much that she reached out to splay her finger over his cheek and then pulled her hand back.
“Dear God, help me,” she whispered to herself.
Jane slowly detached herself from his hug, and she was almost successful before he rolled around swiftly and caught her underneath him a second later. Darach was still asleep, but Jane felt him twist a hand in hers and press the other to her chest as if he was trying to hold her down.
A sudden warmth spread across her body. This one was different. It felt like a tongue made of fire, licking her in sharp laps. Her skin tingled, her heart pulsed. She became jittery and aware of his hand being just an inch away from her bosom. For a second, she longed to feel it on her naked skin, but she quickly pushed the thought out of her mind.
She heaved deep breaths, trying to control the urges screaming at her.
“There ye are…” His thick, baritone voice broke the silence. “Trying tae run away from me yet again, are ye?”
The magic of the moment suddenly dissipated, and Jane pushed him away quickly.
She staggered to her feet. “Ye are an impossible, mannerless brute who lacks manners and propriety! I should of ken ye would try something like this,” Jane said in disgust. “Ye had nae right tae bring me tae the bedroll after I told ye I did nae want tae share it with ye.”