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He crooked his arm for her to take and she did with a smile and without difficulty.
“You’re feeling much better?” he asked as they began their stroll around the convent.
“It still pains me at times,” Terese said, “but Rowena was quick to show me how well the wound was healing between bandage changes, though cautioned against too strenuous work.”
“Then what are your plans for today?” he asked, ready to suggest something that would involve just the two of them.
“I thought to take a walk in the woods and gather branches to make baskets. We have need for more and”—she said with a teasing grin—“I need help.”
“I’m at your service.” He gave a quick bow of his head.
She hugged his arm. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He leaned close. “And I was hoping you’d ask.”
They walked away arm in arm smiling, oblivious to the curious stares and smiles that followed them off the convent grounds. They didn’t go deep into the woods and were quick to hold hands rather than remain locked arm in arm. It made it easier to walk the uneven terrain and make their way around large rocks and fallen trees.
“Your hand feels good in mine,” she said. “I like the feel of you.”
Lachlan enjoyed her candid proclamations; they stirred his blood. But then he didn’t need much stirring when he was near her. Her closeness alone could spark his passion for her.
“I like your bluntness,” he said emphatically.
She stopped, though her hand remained firm in his. “Bluntness is not an attribute.”
He rested his other hand lightly on the curve of her waist and eased closer so that their garments brushed. “It is with you.”
She laughed. “Again you would be alone in your assumption.”
He gently squeezed her waist, lingering in the feel of her tender curve. “Whose tongue has wounded you so badly?”
“It matters not,” she said.
When she attempted to walk away, he stayed her with a slight pressure of his hand. “He matters to me.”
Her eyes turned sad for a moment and then brightened. “I forget you are my champion.”
“I didn’t forget, and I never will,” he said firmly and released her hand to hug her waist and draw her close. “I’ve been aching to kiss you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked and melted against him.
He claimed her mouth like a starving lover, while their bodies entwined in a hungry embrace. It was as if they had waited years to come together and now they could not get enough.
Their kiss exploded with passion and their hands roamed tentatively, eager but unsure. It was Terese who took the first step and slipped her hand inside his shirt to splay her hand over his chest. At that moment Lachlan felt branded, forever marked by her and oddly enough he relished the thought.
She spread his shirt open and her hand roamed his naked chest at will, he hoping she would travel down further and further. His lips drifted off her mouth to impatiently explore along her neck, sweet and soft and ever so intoxicating.
She took hold of his face and forced his mouth to hers once again, hungrier than she was before, but then his appetite was just as ravenous.
When breath was needed she rested her cheek to his and whispered, “I need you. I have never known such a need.”
Lachlan near growled with desire and the thought that she had never known a man, that he would be the first to touch her, to teach her, only made his passion more potent.
But the woods and hard ground was no place for her first time. He wanted it special for her, for them to always remember.
He eased away, taking hold of her hands and the ravenous desire that had turned her sky blue eyes stormy almost made him change his mind.
“Not here, not now,” he said softly.
“Why not?” she asked anxiously.
“You deserve more.”
“I have more.” She gripped his shirt. “I have you.”
“And so you shall,” he promised with a kiss. “You shall have me all night and wake in my arms in the morning.”
“Why must we wait?” she asked annoyed.
“Why must we hurry?”
“Your time here is short,” she said on a sigh. “I wish to make the most of it.”
He pressed a gentle finger to her lips. “There is no time when it comes to us. There is only now.”
He kissed her again and they lingered in it, nibbling and nipping, but this time not touching for he had taken hold of her hands and held them tight, knowing if he let her touch him, he would surrender.
Chapter 12
Terese spent the afternoon trying to make baskets with Megan, but she snapped more branches than she bent into shape. Finally, Megan shoved her aside and ordered her not to touch another branch.
“We’ll soon have no branches left and only one basket has been made.”
