"Heat me up."
His mind fixated on carnal heat, and his body started to simmer. Tempted to kiss her and show her what heated up meant, he could not keep his gaze from drifting to her enticing lips.
"Oh." A lovely, rosy flush covered her face. "I meant... um... you know, warmth. Like in the cold loch... I wasn't freezing while in contact with you."
Shaking his head, he shrugged. "'Tis the first I've heard of it. In kelpie form, I never get cold. Even in the midst of winter, whether wet or dry."
"You astonish me."
Hopefully, that was a good thing. He'd never attempted to astonish a woman... outside the bedchamber.
In truth, he shouldn't think of bedchambers around Cat, for it made him crave her in the worst way.
Wanting to make sure she stayed safe, he continued to hold her hand as they walked. At least, that was the reason he gave himself. He treasured the feel of her fine-boned hand in his. Despite how delicate her hands felt, he knew they were strong, for she'd gripped his mane tightly the whole night. It hadn't hurt, and he loved knowing she was secure.
They trekked a few hundred yards along the trail to the old stone inn at the edge of a village. In Gaelic, the sign read, The Bull's Horn.
"Are you hungry?" he asked as they crossed the flagstone yard.
She nodded and clasped his hand more firmly. "I missed you last night."
Glancing at her, he relished the warmth in her gaze. "But you were with me."
"I ken it, but you seem far different in the... other form," she whispered as they entered the inn's dim common room.
They claimed a table at the edge of the almost empty room, then ordered porridge, eggs, bannocks, and ale from a serving wench. The delicious scents of freshly cooked food made his stomach ache. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Torr arose, crossed the room, and greeted the squat, gray-bearded proprietor, Roy MacGillivray, whom he had encountered a few times. "Would you have two rooms for my betrothed and me?"
Roy grinned. "Indeed, sir."
Torr dug into his sporran for the silver coins. When he rejoined Cat at the table, their ale and food arrived.
While they ate, he asked some of the questions that had plagued him all night while trying to get her away from his cousins. Strange, that, since he got along well with William and the others.
"Back at the castle, did they see you put the potion into Elsea's drink?" he asked.
"Mayhap. I did it during grace when I thought everyone's eyes were closed."
He shook his head in amazement. "'Tis a miracle you were not labeled a heathen."
"You ken I'm not." She glared. "Worst of all, the potion caused Elsea to fall in love with Garrett, the guard. Nay Brodie."
Torr sipped his ale. "I told you Finnian's potions never work."
"I ken I was grasping at straws, but I had to try. Elsea and the guard were—" Cat blushed and cleared her throat. "—coupling on the cellar floor."
Torr drew back, eyeing her in surprise. "You saw them?"
"Aye, through the crack. But they were fully clothed. 'Twas strange, though."
He tried to suppress the arousal that simmered within. "Strange, how?"
"She was on top of him. I thought... it should be the other way around." Her blush deepened.
Torr attempted to hide his grin, but 'twas impossible. He chuckled. "Either way works... in addition to several other positions."
"Other..." Cat's eyes widened.
