At first, Portia thought it was the sunlight that woke her. She thought she was in her bedroom at Camber Hall and was so disoriented, she thought she was falling out of her bed—and then she realized it wasn’t the bed moving, but Harry.
She’d fallen asleep in his arms and the day,judging by the brightness in the bothy, was well into the morning.
He brought the covers around her to hide their nakedness, and that was when she realized they were not alone.
They were surrounded by a pack of dogs, their tails wagging even as they began barking and baying to signal they had found their quarry.
Chapter Fifteen
Acold nose had nudged Harry’s neck. Annoyed, he’d pushed the nose away only to discover it was attached to a hairy muzzle with bad breath.
Jasper.
Years in the military had taught Harry to always be on guard. He was a light sleeper and he had anticipated that he would wake before dawn and see Portia safely home. He should have escorted her home after they’d made love the fourth time that night. But she had felt so good in his arms, he’d wanted to hold her a little longer, which was unusual for him. He did not sleep with the women he bedded. He preferred to keep a distance. Sex was uncomplicated, easy. Sleeping was intimate.
Last night, all barriers had come down.
Portia had been magic in his arms. For thefirst time, he’d understood what it truly meant to “make love.” Nor was it just her innocence that touched him. Portia always gave the best of herself, but he had held back. He knew what women wanted. He knew how to please them, but he’d never pleased himself ... not until Portia.
He’d worshipped her, adored her. His body, even now, wanted more of her.
Harry would not see her hurt in any fashion. And he knew if Jasper and the pack were here, then Monty was not far behind.
Sitting up, holding Portia with one arm, Harry reached for the dog, but he was too late. The hound lifted its snout and began baying, a signal they had found their quarry. His fellows joined him.
“Shut up,” he growled at the dogs, striking out at the one nearest him.
The beast’s response was to grin happily, his tongue hanging out. They knew Harry and apparently liked him, even though he wasn’t overfond of the whole pack of them.
And then Harry heard Monty’s voice. “The hounds are over here,” Monty called. The voice was not far from the bothy. “They’ve found something. I think they’ve found her! Tally-ho!”
“We must dress,” Harry said, reaching forPortia’s gown. The clothes were all over the bothy’s hard dirt floor. He tossed the dress at her and went to grab her shoes and stockings. The dogs, seeing what he was about, decided to play. Jasper snatched the end of the stocking and pulled. Tug-of-war was one of his favorite games.
The other dogs joined in. The din of barking, growling, and howling reverberated around the bothy’s stone walls.
“Don’t worry about the stockings,” Portia whispered frantically, putting her arms in her dress and then realizing she had it backward.
Harry knew good advice when he heard it. He let go, and Jasper went running off through the door, several of his pack chasing him, each wanting its chance to play. Harry jumped up and scrambled for his breeches on the floor by the stool.
He had just snatched them up, bending over to pull them on, when he heard a horse’s hooves and Monty’s voice. “Here now, here now, Jasper? Where is she—?” There was a beat of silence. “Ajax? What are you doing here?”
Harry knew he would not be dressed before Monty appeared in the doorway. He was right. A shadow blocked the doorway light. Harry turned to face his friend, holding his breeches in a strategic place in front of him.
Monty stuck his head inside the bothy. “Oh God, Chattan.”
“Hello, Monty,” Harry said as if they had just met on the street. “Brisk morning.”
Harry had never seen Monty stunned speechless. He looked Harry up and down from his naked feet to his unshaven growth of beard and his mussed hair, and then slowly turned his head toward the mound of fur-lined blankets. Portia was hidden beneath them. Considering the amount of movement, she was apparently still trying to dress. The dogs thought it a sport to root around with their noses and climb on top of her. After all, it was her scent they had been ordered to follow.
In the distance, Harry heard Lady Maclean shouting, “That’s her shoe. That dog has my Portia’s shoe. Oh where is she? Where is she?”
“Over here, ma’am,” a male voice called.
“You have a party of people coming,” Harry said to Monty, but more as a warning for Portia. “Here, let my pull on my breeches and I’ll join you outside.”
“That would be fine, Chattan,” Monty said stiffly. He turned, blocking the door with his back.
Harry hurriedly put on his breeches. He’d just started buttoning them when the bothy wassurrounded by people. Monty had organized a huge search party.
