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“And every night, and day and morning and afternoon and—”
She giggled for he punctuated each reference with a nibble and a kiss. “Have you the stamina?” she teased, feeling as insatiable as he.
He released her and staggered backward with a hand to his heart. “You wound me, woman.”
She laughed and sauntered over to him. “I heal all wounds with a kiss.”
He grinned. “I have a lot of wounds.”
Her voice was low and whispery. “Show me.”
He tapped where his hand rested at his heart. “Here.”
Her hand reached in his shirt and slowly spread it open. Then she splayed her hand on his chest, her body further titillated by the warmth of his flesh and his hard muscles. She had no experience with intimacy, though she wasn’t ignorant of it, she and the other women talked about men and sex. The women who were familiar with it advised those that weren’t that it came more naturally than one would expect and to trust your instincts when the time came.
She found that her instincts were much more aware than she was and so she freed them and followed their lead, which was why she did not pause when she felt the urge to kiss his wounds and make them all better, so very much better.
Warm and delicious, that was how he tasted and the need to nibble at his flesh and sample his nipple with a light flick of her tongue caused a jolt to them both.
Lachlan grabbed hold of her arms and forced her an arm’s-length away. “We need to go to my cottage now.”
She nibbled at her bottom lip missing the taste of him.
“Stop that,” he ordered with a gruff groan.
“I like the flavor of you,” she whispered. “I’d like to taste more.”
Lachlan’s groan turned deep and urgent, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him as he marched off.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get far.
“Terese!”
She knew from the frantic call there was a problem and being it was Rowena, it could mean only one thing. There was a problem with the mercenary. She stopped, forcing Lachlan to halt, though he did so with an annoyed grunt.
“I need your help,” Rowena said.
“Can’t someone else help?” Lachlan asked a bit sharply.
“I’m sorry,” Rowena said with sincere regret. “I need Terese’s help.”
“Whatever for?” Lachlan demanded.
“That doesn’t concern you,” Terese snapped. “If one of the women needs another we do not bother to ask why. We are there.”
“Let someone else be there,” Lachlan argued.
Terese yanked her hand out of his. “No. When I am needed I go without question.”
Lachlan grabbed hold of her arm and pressed his cheek to hers to whisper harshly, “I need you.”
“And I you,” she assured him, “but first I must see to this.”
“You make me wait?” he challenged.
“I am worth the wait,” she murmured in his ear and felt him shiver.
“Then I will wait no matter how long it takes,” he assured her, his tone more tempered.
She kissed his cheek. “I will do my best to make it quick.”
He grinned. “I on the other hand will not be quick.”
Terese laughed as he reluctantly released her and she hurried to Rowena
He called out, “I’ll wait at the cottage.”
She acknowledged him with a wave and followed Rowena into the house, asking quickly, “What’s wrong?”
“Megan suffered a wound early yesterday and foolishly ignored it, too busy tending others.”
“Is it bad?”
“It wouldn’t have been if she let me see to it right away. It already shows signs of poisoning.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Terese said and the two women immediately went to work on Megan. It took longer then either woman expected, Terese busy bathing the wound with a special brew that would hopefully flush away any poisons, while Rowena mixed a paste to be applied. Another brew was prepared to help Megan rest. Just when they thought all was done, Talon roused with a slight fever and the two women went to work on him.
It was near dawn by the time Terese was free to take her leave and at first she thought it was too late, Lachlan would have never waited for her. Tired as she was, she was more curious so she crept silently through the convent grounds and just as quietly eased open Lachlan’s cottage door.
The only sound in the one room was the crackle and snap of the fire in the hearth. As she approached Lachlan where he lay on his side in bed, she saw that he was asleep. His chest was bare and she admired his sleek muscled lines and grew curious when she noticed how the blanket rested low on his hip, meaning he was completely naked beneath.
Instead of passion striking her, a yawn did and she knew she was too tired to do anything but sleep.
“Damn,” she whispered, annoyed yet again that they had lost the chance to be together. She was about to turn and leave when she heard.
