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“Are you still suffering the effects?” The concern in his expression surprised her.
“Morag said the symptoms I described were too intense to be attributed to the herbs.” Shrugging, she wondered if her skin would ever return to normal again. Even the simple act of lifting her shoulder made her breasts brush against the inside of her dress in a way that felt decadent. Sweetly sinful. “I do not understand this heightened sensitivity.”
“She did not suggest an answer?” He tilted his head, regarding her curiously. His thick dark hair brushed his shoulder as he turned and she recalled the lush, silky feel of it in her fingers.
“No. But I left in a rush because of the storm.” She’d wanted to tell Morag about Finn’s arrival more than she wanted to complain about the herbs. But she’d seen the way Morag had reacted to the news of Violet’s suffering. “I don’t think she was surprised, though. She seemed more…amused. Which is unlike her, because normally when she mixes herbs without success she is distressed about it.”
A wolfish grin spread across Finn’s features, his teeth shiny white in the darkness.
“That is because she understood your condition for what it was.” He lifted a lock of her hair from where it lay on her shoulder and twined the dark curl around one finger. “It is a circumstance that every man and woman should be so fortunate to experience once in a lifetime.”
Without the fabric twined about her neck, Finn’s hand hovered close to the bare patch of skin at the base of her throat. Her flesh practically vibrated with awareness of him as she remembered what it had felt like for him to touch her there.
“You speak of lust?” She should not know of such things, perhaps, but with her mother long gone she’d been raised in close proximity to a keep full of her father’s retainers and she understood what drove the men to the maids’ pallets.
“Nay.” Relinquishing the curl, he allowed it to settle along her exposed skin in a teasing caress that called up the hot hunger she’d been running from all day. “Much better than that. ’Tis the body’s recognition of its one true mate. A desire so strong it will not be denied.”
Like a gauntlet tossed, Finn’s words challenged her. Would she prove him right by going to him now? Or defy the edgy urgings of her body that wanted his with a fierceness she could not understand?
His fingers went to the laces of his tunic and unfastened them. Golden skin sprinkled with dark hair appeared in the gap as he loosened the garment, then pulled it over his head. His bare chest was sculpted with impossible strength, his arms roped with muscle and his shoulders as broad as hammered armor.
Her breath came in short, rapid bursts. Flames flickered all over her skin. The wantonness she’d experienced earlier came roaring back with new force and urgent demand.
“You speak madness,” she accused softly, though her body already hovered closer to him.
“Yesterday I would have agreed.” He drew her into his arms slowly, giving her time to protest.
But she could not. A roar in her ears told her to touch him. Take whatever he offered. Take him.
When his mouth met hers, her lips melted beneath his. Like liquid, she conformed to the hard planes of his body as if they had already become one. She traced the strong sinew of his back with greedy fingers, wanting nothing between them. While he might speak madness, it was a heady lunacy that she wanted to drown in. How could his touch be so gentle, his restraint so great, when he possessed enough power in his hands to take from her anything he wanted? Yet he’d held himself back in the hall earlier, allowing her to free herself when her fears overwhelmed her.
His kindness touched her, since her father had always been more likely to respond with a backhand than a kind word.
Now, determined to lose herself in this tenderness, she savored the path Finn’s hands traveled. He worked the laces of her kirtle, freeing the tight constraints. With a nudge of his thigh, he lifted her onto his lap and then lifted her up to the heather tick she kept in one corner of the room, dragging the woolen blanket with him. Lightning streaked through the high arrow slits, illuminating his strong form over her, letting her see the restraint he used as he settled her on the blanket. He was so strong, yet he handled her with exquisite care, dragging her garments up and off until she lay before him utterly naked.
His gaze raked over her with a thoroughness she could only hope his hands would soon imitate. He stretched out over her, his powerful arms keeping his weight from her. Tenderly, he kissed her breasts, reminding her how quickly he could make her skin tingle with pleasure..
