Page 55 of Secrets of a Kilted Seduction

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As he held Alana, he noticed a bathtub had been brought out, placed in front of the fire, and filled with water. The steam rising from it told him it was hot. Fresh towels and soap had been left on a stool close at hand. “Come on, let’s get ye out of those clothes and intae a nice hot bath. Ye’d like that, would ye nae?” he asked her, gently leading her over to the tub and making her sit in a chair.

“Aye, I would, thank ye. But ye need tae get in as well, so I can wash away all that blood and see what the damage is,” she said, looking at him with shining eyes as he knelt to remove her boots. “Yer poor face. ’Tis all swollen.”

“I hope it daesnae spoil me good looks,” he joked, hoping to cheer her.

“Naethin’ could dae that,” she said, giving him a small smile. He found the compliment extremely gratifying, and a thrill ran up his spine.

“Ach, ye’re tryin’ nae tae hurt me feelins, I ken. Now, let me help ye out of yer dress.” It was the red wool dress with the front lacing. He reached over and began to loosen it, eventually getting her to stand up long enough for him to lift it off over her head and lay it carefully over the back of another chair nearby. He untied her petticoats and put them with the dress.

She stood before him in her stockings and shift. To his delight, she meekly sat back down and allowed him to roll down her stockings before raising her arms above her head so he could take off the shift.

The sight of her slim, pale body was arousing, but he pushed down his urges. The important thing was to make Alana feel safe, to help her get over the ordeal she had just been through. So, he gently lifted her in his arms and carried her to the tub.

“Dip in a toe and see how hot it is,” he suggested, dipping her down so she could test the temperature.

“’Tis just right,” she told him, so he lowered her in gently, lifting her hair out of the way so it would not get wet. She sighed happily and closed her eyes as she relaxed against the back of the tub. “Thank ye, that feels wonderful.”

“I’ll let ye have a wee soak, and then I’ll help ye tae wash. In the meantime, I think we both could dae with a nip of the amber nectar.” He stood up, and as he strode across the room to where the whisky was kept, he took off his boots and took off his weapons belt.

He poured them a dram each, realizing he felt terribly weary after the beating he had weathered. Although he was trying to do his best to soothe Alana, he was hiding how much pain he was really in. It felt as if all the bones in his face had been broken, and he had a raging headache. He knew she would get him something for it if he asked—more of the vile-tasting willow tea, no doubt—but he wanted to wait until after she had bathed and was more settled.

Carrying the two drams, he returned to the tub and knelt next to it, handing her the whisky. “Get that inside ye and ye’ll feel better at once.”

“Thank ye, Tadhg. But what about ye? Ye need tendin’ tae as well,” she told him, taking the dram from him and sipping it. “Ah, that’s warmin’ me up already.”

“Aye, it gets right intae yer bones, eh?” he said, tipping the whisky down his throat in one go. Immediately, it coursed through him, leaving a pleasant, invigorating heat wherever it passed. He shuddered as it spread through him, giving him strength and soothing the pain in his head. “Truly, whisky is the water of life, as folks say.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, smiling at him over the rim of her glass.

“So, are ye ready fer a wash?” he asked, picking up a clean washcloth and a bar of soap.

“It looks like I’m gettin’ one whether I want it or nae,” she said jestingly, making no move to stop him as he dipped the cloth in the water and proceeded to work up a lather with the soap.

“Looks like it,” he replied, starting with her neck, shoulders, and arms. She laughed softly, her eyes resting on him, letting him wash her.

“Well, this is surprisin’,” he said, her beautiful body starting to distract him from his throbbing head. “The last time we were here, ye hid behind the curtain rather than let me see yer ankles. And now here ye are, stark naked, lettin’ me bathe ye without a care in the world,” he said, lifting each of her arms in turn to wash them.

She finished her whisky and handed him the glass. He put it aside as she went on, “Aye. But after what happened last night, there seems nae point in false modesty.”

“Hmm, last night. What did happen exactly? I thought I must have dreamed it. A bloody fine dream it was too. The best I’ve ever had.” He gently eased her forward so he could wash her back.

“It wasnae a dream. Two people cannae have the same dream at the same time.”

“So, it was real then? We really did all those things?” The memory was deeply titillating.

Again, she gave the soft little laugh, her eyes on his. “Ye’re very amusin’, with yer wee jokes,” she told him mildly. “Aye, we did all those things.” She gave a sharp intake of breath, and her lips parted slightly when he ran the cloth over the rucked peaks of her breasts. They hardened instantly, and so did he.

“Well, if ye leave out the gettin’ kidnapped and watching ye gettin’ half beaten tae death, it feels wonderful,” she replied huskily.

“Wonderful?” he repeated, a huge smile breaking out on his face. “So, are ye sayin’ that I made ye feel wonderful?”

She hissed and arched her back slightly as he continued to soap her breasts, cupping them gently to wash beneath them. “I am.”

Her words and the feel of her soft globes, all soapy and slippery in his hands, sent a wave of lust coursing through him. Controlling himself, wishing to extend the moment as long as he could, he lathered up the cloth and began washing her belly.

“It was special fer me too. I’ve been waitin’ years fer ye, Alana. But tell me,