Wild Conquest. Hannah Howell
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Название: Wild Conquest
Автор: Hannah Howell
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9781420113488
isbn:
After a moment of silence, she whispered, “Thank you for telling me of your mother. It helps.”
“Ye had become too quiet. I feared ye had slipped into a darkness of the mind. Now I can see ye werenae afflicted as I had thought. Ye dinnae flinch from my touch.” He moved his hand in a small circular motion over her stomach.
For a moment the feel of that subtle caress held her still. Heat flared in her abdomen and spread quickly throughout her body. The man was truly dangerous, she thought with a touch of exasperation. She grasped his hand and moved it aside, noting idly that he made no effort to resist her abrupt rebuff.
“Since you know that I can abide your touch already, there is no need to further test me.”
Chuckling softly, he sprawled on his back, crossing his arms beneath his head. He had felt the softest of ripples beneath his hand, had heard the hint of huskiness in her voice. She was not averse to his touch. The fact that he could draw a response from her despite her recent ordeal suggested to him that she still felt as strongly drawn to him as he did to her. He did not intend to wait long to test out his theory.
“Just making sure.”
“Fine. Now that you are sure, you may keep your hands to yourself.”
“I may, may I?”
“Aye, you may. In fact, you had better.”
“Mayhaps.”
“Master O’Duine, I am an indentured servant, not a leman.”
“As ye wish. Leman, eh? There is a fine old word.”
“Oh, hush. I need my sleep.”
She heard him laugh softly again and almost struck him. He knew what she felt when he touched her. She was sure of it. Worse, she had the distinct impression that he meant to take advantage of her weakness. She did not feel confident she could fight the feelings he stirred if he intended to tug at them constantly.
Mentally cursing him, Letitia, and everything that had led to her being there, Pleasance closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. She would need all the rest she could get.
Pleasance cautiously sat down before the fire Tearlach had built. She did not think her backside would ever stop hurting. After six long days on the hard wagon seat she suspected she had bruises that would never heal.
“We will reach my cabin by day’s end tomorrow,” Tearlach said as he handed over her share of their food. “Soon we will be able to eat something besides pemmican.”
“And sit on something besides that cursed wagon seat,” Pleasance muttered as she chewed the strip of dried meat and washed away its taste with cider.
“Sore, are ye? I have a salve for that.” He laughed at the disgusted look she gave him.
The moment she had finished her meager meal, Pleasance decided to go to sleep. Using a little of their water, she rinsed out her cup and then lightly washed up. She stepped over to the bedding Tearlach had spread out near the wagon and silently cursed. One bed, one blanket—again. The man was incorrigible, she grumbled to herself as she laid down.
She was groggy with approaching sleep by the time Tearlach joined her. Although she muttered a curse as he curled his arm around her waist, she was too tired to fight him. He touched his warm lips to the hollow near her ear and she shivered, desire seeping through her body. She struggled to grasp at the resistance she needed to push him away, but exhaustion made that impossible. A flicker of that resistance finally appeared when he gently turned her to face him, but it quickly vanished when he placed his mouth on hers.
A soft moan escaped her as she slid her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kiss. She parted her lips to welcome the invasion of his tongue, pressing close to him as he slowly stroked the inner regions of her mouth. Her passion flared to life, banishing her weariness and making her forget all her aches and pains. The heat of her desire made her feel renewed, strong, and vibrant.
“Ah, lass,” Tearlach murmured as he kissed the pulse point in her throat. “We shall have some verra warm nights while ye are in the Berkshires with me.”
His soft words were like a splash of icy water in her face. Pleasance cursed and pushed herself out of his arms. She clenched her hands into tight fists as she fought the urge to slap him.
“So you think to use me to warm up your nights, do you?” she snapped.
“I didnae notice any great resistance from ye. Nay, none at all, in fact.”
“’Twas a brief error in judgment on my part. I seem to be having a lot of them lately. May I remind you that I am to be your servant, not your whore.” She flipped onto her side, showing him her back.
Tearlach turned onto his own back and crossed his arms beneath his head. “I didnae hear myself ask ye to be my whore.”
“Oh, you asked it clearly enough.”
“Nay, I thought we were becoming lovers.”
“Well, whatever your twisted mind thought, ’tis not to be. I may be reduced to servitude in your home, Master Tearlach, but I will never be reduced to servitude in your bed.”
“Good, because servitude isnae what I was seeking. Nay, I want that passion ye just revealed in my arms.”
“You imagine things. And your arms will remain empty.”
“We shall see.”
Pleasance silently cursed. The man had a right to his cockiness. She found resistance a difficult thing to muster when he held her in his arms. She closed her eyes and cursed again. It definitely looked to be a long year ahead.
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