Page 14 of Highland Ghost

“Died in? Och, how horrible!”

“Here,” he said, closing the lid on the trunk and handing her one of his tunics. “It’s all I have for now, but it’ll do.”

“Turn around,” she told him, taking the tunic and standing up to change.

“Caitlin, we’re goin’ to be married tomorrow. I hardly think yer modesty is needed.”

“Tomorrow? That soon?”

He could have kicked himself for telling her that. He didn’t want her to know the priest was coming until it was too late for her to try to leave. “Aye. I thought it best that we marry quickly.”

“Why?” she asked, raising her hand, using her finger to make a circle, telling him to turn his back to her.

He reluctantly turned around. “We need to marry and to fall in love in order to break the MacBain curse.”

“Curse?” she asked. He heard the rustling of clothes from behind him. “What curse?”

“I canna explain that before I tell ye the entire story.”

“Well, go ahead then.”

“I’d like to at least look at ye while I’m tellin’ ye about it.” He turned around too soon, and caught a glimpse of her pulling his tunic over her head, although she didn’t see him. Her skin glowed a healthy color in the firelight, her perky bare breasts and hard nipples calling out to him to take her. His eyes roamed lower, past her taut stomach, and down to the fuzzy thatch of dark hair at the juncture of her thighs. She was standing sideways, and he could also see the rounded, perfect swell of the side of her buttocks. Egads, this was tempting! Why didn’t this woman wear undergarments or at least a shift?

When her head popped out from the neck of his tunic, her eyes met his. “Ye were watchin’ me when I told ye no’ to look!”

“I – I didna mean to, I swear. I just turned around too soon.”

“Humph,” she said with a sniff, rolling up the long sleeves of the tunic. Her bare feet padded over to the bed and she yanked back the covers and climbed between the sheets.

Damn, this only made his manhood swell. He couldn’t even think about ghosts now because he had something entirely different on his mind.

“Are ye goin’ to come over here and finish the story or no’?” she asked, patting the bed next to her, inviting him to join her.

“I . . . think I’d better stay over here.”

“I’m still frightened, Ian. I need yer arms around me. I need to feel protected from the ghosts. Please.”

He saw the fear in her eyes, and knew it was his duty to comfort his betrothed and to let her know that he would always protect her. As her husband, he would always put her safety before anything else.

“Of course,” he said, removing his boots and weapon belt. He reached for the ties on his breeches but she stopped him.

“I dinna think that is a guid idea. After all, we canna be intimate until we are fully wed.”

“Of course no’. Ye’re right. I’ll leave my clothes on.” He sighed and headed over to the bed, settling himself next to her. “Caitlin, why are ye no’ wearin’ undergarments or a shift?”

“I was,” she explained. “But they got wet on our journey here. They were still dryin’ by the fire when I donned . . . Sylvia’s gown.”

“Oh. I see.”

“How did she die?” came her innocent, soft voice from his side. He reached out and put his arm around her. She snuggled up to his chest. He liked the way it felt. It wasn’t going to be easy not to even attempt making love to her, but he promised her he wouldn’t until they were wed. God’s eyes, this was going to be a long night, indeed.

“Sylvia was the sister of my grandda, Sholto MacBain. They were twins, actually.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Sholto took Sylvia under his wing after their parents died. He chose someone for her to marry, but she had other plans.”

“She loved the piper, didna she?”