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“Just sore, nothing more,” she assured him moving it up and down so that he could judge for himself.
He instinctively reached out to help her stand when her eyes opened wide, warning him not to touch. So they were back to that again, and he shook his head. “This will not do.” And with that, his hands went to her waist, and he brought her to her feet in one gentle swing.
His hands remained firm at her waist as he spoke. “There is no way I can keep my hands off you.”
“What?” she asked, startled.
“Not in an intimate sense,” he corrected, and damned if images of him touching her intimately didn’t pop into his head. He shook the vivid scenes away before they could do more damage, and explained, “I cannot stop myself from reaching out and helping you when you need it. It’s simple instinct. And evidently you wish my help since you called my name when in trouble. So there will be no telling me that I cannot touch you or warning me with that evil eye look. I will be touching you, so get used to it.”
Tara glared at him wide-eyed and wide-mouthed.
Reeve glared right back, folding his arms across his chest.
“You’re placing yourself in danger,” she said.
Reeve looked himself up and down. “I look just fine. You, on the other hand,” he said, pointing his finger at her, “have had a couple of close calls, which I”—he thumped his chest—“saved you from. And so far, I am still standing, as you can plainly see. I am not deader than dead. I am alive and well.”
“You are,” she said as though it were a miracle.
“Perhaps the curse is gone,” he suggested.
“I doubt that.”
“Then why am I still alive?”
Tara shook her head. “I don’t know, but I fear taking chances with your life.”
“It isn’t you taking the chance. It is me. I chose to help you; therefore, whatever happens is my own fault.”
“But I have warned you—”
“True, you have, and still I choose to help you,” he said. “So the consequences are of my own making.”
She worried at her lower lip, and Reeve watched it plump further to life. Damn, but he was in need of a woman. That was the problem; he had been too long without one. Who was he kidding? It had been only three days since he had coupled with a very willing widow who had provided him with water when he had stopped at her croft, then suggested he share supper with her until finally she had invited him into her bed. They had had a good time, and when he left, after a delicious morning romp in her bed, they had both been smiling.
Why had he suddenly begun to think of intimacy with Tara? The answer came as fast as the question. When he had held her against him and she had fit so perfectly. With such a precise fit, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were perfectly sized in other ways.
“A simple helping hand, that’s all,” she clarified.
“What else would there be?” he asked innocently.
“I’m not an ignorant woman, Reeve. I felt you grow hard against me this morning. I saw the look of desire in your eyes when we spoke, and I see how you focus on my lips. Wondering how a kiss would taste?”
He saw no reason to deny the truth. “The thought did cross my mind.”
“Thank you for being honest. It is good to know that I was not wrong about you being a moral man. With that said, I am sure I have nothing to worry about. You will touch me only when I am in need of help.”
“Agreed,” he said. “Just remember, I will be there to help you withallyour needs.”
Chapter 4
Tara concentrated on keeping a steady pace behind Reeve even though her ankle pained her. She probably gave it a good twist in the fall, and walking on it wasn’t helping. If she alerted Reeve to her injury, he would surely stop and refuse to continue until her ankle healed. And there was no telling how long that would take.
She also knew it was not wise to linger with this man. She had been well aware that thoughts of coupling with her had danced in his head. She had seen the desire in his eyes more than once and had felt it when she woke wrapped in his arms.
It had surprised her, but what surprised her more was that she had stirrings of desire herself. A tiny spark had tickled her dormant passion, and she had briefly felt the urge to couple. Not that she had ever coupled with a man before.
She had truly loved Rory, her first love, and had looked forward to becoming his wife. Unfortunately he died on the day they were to wed. An arranged marriage followed six months later, and she had not met Luag until the day of the wedding. She had not been attracted to him; though not a bad-looking man, she simply didn’t favor him. She had actually worried over intimacy with him. She needn’t have since he died right after speaking his vows.
