"Are you well?" She eyed his delicious muscles.
"Aye." Finding a bottle of wine on the bedside table, he uncorked it and took a long swig. "By the saints."
She bit her lip to keep from grinning.
He approached her, knelt behind her, and lathered his hands with the soap. Next, he ran his bare, soapy hands from her shoulders downward. "Mmm, you have a lovely back." His whisper was deep and husky.
Cat smiled. "I've never considered it my best feature."
"You have many bonny features." He deeply massaged her shoulders and arms. Kissed her neck.
"Ah." Tingles covering her, she tilted her head aside.
He licked her neck, scraped his teeth across it gently, sending a torrent of chills through her body. She shivered.
He washed underneath her arms, then slipped his soapy hands forward to caress her breasts.
She leaned her head back against his chest and looked up at him. She kissed his prickly chin.
He caught her mouth with his and kissed her, thorough and deep, with more passion than ever before.
After another kiss, he pulled back, frowning. "What have you done to me?"
Torr had never wanted a woman more than he wanted Cat now. Arousal seethed through him and tensed all his muscles, fiercer than ever before. Nigh onto a madness. He was tempted to selfishly drag her from that tub and take her fast and hard.
She smiled up at him... deviously. That didn't fit. Could Cat be devious?
"What did you do?" The realization catapulted into his mind. "The potion!"
Her widening smile confirmed his suspicion, as did her rosy skin and darkening eyes.
He stood up. "You gave it to me?"
She nodded. "And myself."
"Damn you, woman. Are you a lunatic?" He strode toward the door. "I shall find a wench."I cannot have her. I cannot have her.
"Nay!" Cat jumped from the tub and caught the back of his kilt before he made good his getaway. "If you do, so help me, Torr..."
He slammed the door and leaned against it, unable to close his eyes against the luscious temptation of her wet, nude form.'Slud!He could not draw in enough air. His body was near on fire and covered with shivery tingles. With a yearning close to agony, he longed to carry her to his bed and do wicked things to her. Yet, he could not. What were the reasons? She was an innocent... and... what else? His mind would not function.
"I should throttle you!" he yelled.
She unclasped his belt and let his plaid drop to the floor. The hungry expression in her dark blue eyes as she looked him over spurred on his madness.
She bit her lip, her face flushing even darker, then tugged at his arm. "I want you to bathe with me." She pulled him closer to the tub.
He had never experienced such conflict within himself, knowing he should not stay in this room with her—and certainly not get into a bathtub with her—but at the same time, he couldn't drag himself away. She had teased and tempted him for days. And now Finnian's blasted brew had ramped up his desires even more.
Against his better judgment, he lowered himself into the warm, soapy water. "I care naught about bathing. I want..." Clamping his mouth shut, he barely stopped himself from blurting out shocking and brazen words.
She climbed into the tub and knelt between his legs. "Aye? What is it you want?"
"You well ken." Leaning forward, he captured her delectable mouth. Naught had ever felt or tasted as delicious. A trace of sanity intruded, and he pulled back an inch. "You are a virgin and a lady. I cannot have you." Unable to curtail his hunger, he pressed his lips to her throat, trailed his tongue up to her ear, and suckled her earlobe into his mouth. "I cannot."
"You can," she breathed. "I grant you permission."
She slid her fingers along his shaft, and the pleasure near suffocated him. He groaned, his whole body tensing with restraint.
