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“I agree with the not luxurious bit.” She heard his low tone and snapped her eyes.
Her lips breathed a self-derogatory laugh “I didn’t know you were prone to flattering, McKendrick.”
“And I’m not, Darroch,” he responded in the same way. “You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” gruffness and truth rang in his statement.
An intense tide of heat surfaced on her skin and it had nothing to do with embarrassment, but with pleasure at his words as well as his sight.
Damn it! She should send him away and try to regain her balance and clear thought.
Instead, she sat on the bed, leaning on the pillows against the headboard and covered her already modest night gown with the bedclothes. Her loose strands covered the pillow case.
He made no move, just watched as she made herself comfortable.
“You might as well sit on the mattress,” she said. “Or you’ll be weary of standing like a soldier.”
“That’d be nice,” he said and sat by her side, back on the headboard.
This close, the man evoked everything but sleep. Her insides were more alert than ever, attuned to his every breath and every tiny movement.
A long time passed as sleep eluded her. Perhaps she should pretend to fall into slumber and get rid of his disquieting presence.
“Why Belvedere?” his low question startled her.
Her mind took a few seconds to understand his question until she remembered how she had named the lambs. Strangely, talking about the cute things did not cause disgust but evoked good memories. She moved, feeling tense as she resisted her attraction to him.
“You remember
what it means in Italian,” she started. “But that’s also the name of the Apollo Belvedere I once saw reproduced in a book.” Of course, she would never reveal she held the giant in mind when she had the silly idea for the name—even under duress.
“The classical statue, if I’m not wrong,” he replied. “You like works of art, I gather.”
Yes, especially the one sitting by her side. “I didn’t study art in depth, but what I saw I liked.”
“When this whole thing is over, I can take you to the British Museum, they have a few pieces from Greece and Rome.”
Adjusting her sitting position again, she looked at her hands. “Have you visited it?”
“Our tutor once arranged a study trip there,” he volunteered. “Only for us boys. Aileen was furious for being left out.” A side-smile came with the reminiscence.
“I sympathise with her feelings,” Moira commented and moved yet again.
“Come here,” he said and made her torso lean on his.
Rough woollen tartan rasped her face as she rested on him. The warm tautness of him was so much more comfortable. She did not even protest when her nostrils met the scent of soap and man she unrealistically recognised as hers. Her man.
“Are you trying to take advantage of me, sir?” she jested to dispel the dangerous thought.
“If memory serves, madam, you took advantage of me not long ago.”
Those moments in the pantry would remain in her memory forever, his taste, the feel of his weight on her and the explosion of her body against his.
“Oh, yes.” Now she was in contact with him, a delicious laziness took over her. “If memory serves, you weren’t very reluctant.”
“I can’t say that, no.”
She rested her arm over his ribs and burrowed further in him. “I did not think so.” And sighed in delight at the feel of him before her eyes closed.
Broken images of kittens and puppies mixed with lambs played in her mind in a cry for help. Moira awoke with a start and a gasp.
