"'Twill be like trying to find a certain pebble in the loch." Torr shook his head.
"We cannot give up." Cat came forward, sat close beside him, and grasped his hand in both her small, cool ones. Her satiny touch was at once soothing and stirring. How was such a thing possible? 'Twas as if she revived some long-asleep vitality within him.
"We have to try," she continued in a low tone, her voice melodic, so feminine and light. He imagined she'd be able to sing beautifully. A distant memory drifted into his mind—her singing at a cèilidh at her home several years ago. He hadn't paid much attention at the time, for he'd been far more interested in women his own age.
Cat's hands, still holding his, were so soft and gentle. What would they feel like stroking his chest? Against all sound logic, desire flickered to life and grew hotter with each passing second. Her clean floral fragrance entranced him, telling him she had bathed within the last hour and changed her clothing.
She grazed the tip of her tongue over her full upper lip, seemingly oblivious that such an action would spur on his burgeoning lust. She watched him with expectation, making him wonder if she knew anything about sensual pleasures. She had never been a shy lass who lowered her eyes before him or anyone. He admired her strength, confidence, and even the challenge in that bold stare.
What went through Catriona MacCain's mind? Did he see carnal interest in her gaze, or was it merely wishful thinking on his part? She should be an innocent and not look at him thus.
Would her mouth taste as delicious as it looked?
He leaned slightly toward her, breathing in... relishing... her sweet, intoxicating woman scent. Her lips were right below his, so close. Irresistible. He brushed his mouth across hers—as soft and silken as rose petals. Lightning-intense arousal struck him.
"'Slud." He tore himself away and stormed across the straw-covered floor.By the saints, I cannot do this.Too many reasons...
His shoulders tightened. He clenched his hands, unable to believe how he yearned for her. He had grown hard as stone. She would not protest; her eyes said as much. His hands ached to feel her velvety skin and supple curves. Breasts, hips... it had been far too long since he'd touched a woman. He gritted his teeth to keep from groaning aloud.
Catriona didn't know what to make of Torr's behavior. He had almost kissed her. Or was that an actual kiss—the brief whisper of touch that sent her heart racing? Even now, she could not tamp down her excitement and longing.
Why had he stopped? What could she do to persuade him to kiss her again?
He stood some distance away, in front of one of the stall doors, his back to her. He appeared lonely and tormented, yet... intense. On the verge of revealing some secret or doing something shocking. Perhaps he wanted to kiss her forcefully... or take her to his bed. A heated shiver passed over her skin.
She could not imagine denying him anything he desired.
She now realized why she'd been enamored with him since she was a wee lass. He possessed some mysterious quality that fascinated and captured her—heart, mind, and soul. She did not know what. With those intelligent, expressive green eyes, he always carefully watched what was happening around him, but his gaze also held secrets. The edge of danger he exuded dared anyone to challenge him, though she knew him to be honorable.
The memory of him sparring with Brodie a few years ago invaded her mind... the swordplay that had gone on for half an hour, much to the amusement of the clan. The way they had grinned viciously as they tried to slice each other limb from limb, neither succeeding nor really wanting to.
During the many competitions which the whole clan relished, the men showed off their strength and battle skills. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off Torr. His shirtless, muscled torso had been glazed in sweat and dust. She kept waiting for some movement that would make the bottom of his belted plaid flip up and reveal what he hid beneath it, but that never happened. She well knew what most males hid beneath their plaids, for she had accidentally come upon some young clansmen swimming in the sea a few years ago. They hadn't seen her hiding amongst the boulders, and she was glad, for 'twould have been mortifying.
She forced herself to forget her girlish infatuation with Torr and focus on why she'd come. But how could she convince him that finding a love match for Brodie was a worthwhile endeavor? To do nothing meant certain disaster for her and the clan.
"Would you grant hospitality to Aggie and me for a few days?" she asked.
Torr turned abruptly. "You want to stay here? At Blacktower?" The intensity of his darkened eyes remained wicked and a bit dangerous.
What was he thinking? That he didn't want her here? "Um, that is unless... " She paused. How could she convince him she needed to remain here?
He glanced away. "Aye, you can stay until I figure out what to do."
Relief drained the tension from her muscles. "I thank you."
What tormented him so and made danger rise to the surface? She wished he would tell her what form his curse took. Perhaps if he learned to trust her, he would reveal all.
"And will you help me find Elsea?" she asked.
"I've nay yet decided." He stomped from the stables and left.
After striding through the wood, Torr paused and glanced back toward the stables, glad she wasn't following him. Her footsteps echoed as she ran up the tower steps. A door slammed.
Damnation! What had the lass done to him? He could not fathom his overheated reaction to her. Was it because of his kelpie blood?
And now she wanted to live here with him? How would he keep his sanity? He could not keep his gaze from her luscious lips, wanting to explore the feel and taste of them beneath his.
He could not recall feeling such a blatant, lustful response before. Mayhap 'twas because he'd been celibate for over a year. After the lasses in the area had heard about his shifting, they steered clear of him. And who could blame them? 'Haps Cat would be equally repulsed by him once she knew what he shifted into.
