The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(25)

Willing her feet forward, she crept to the bed, her footsteps nearly soundless, a talent she’d perfected since her father’s return from imprisonment. Though she kept her gaze safely away from the figure on the bed, with each step her awareness of him grew until the pressure built to near bursting. One touch and she was sure she would scream like a banshee.

The room seemed too warm, almost sultry, the air heavy with whisky and a dark, masculine scent that she recognized as his. Her body responded on a base level she didn’t understand—the clean, spicy scent seeping through her pores, warming some of the ice from her blood.

She’d reached the side of the bed.

Holding her breath, she ventured a look at the sleeping figure, getting far more than she’d bargained for. It was dark, but not dark enough to prevent her from being able to see that not only was he lying atop the bed coverings, he was doing so without any clothing—completely and utterly naked.

He was facing away from her—small mercy!—and she could just make out the hard lines of his strong back and broad shoulders, the rocklike bulges of his arm, the thick, heavily muscled legs, and the finely carved slope of his bu**ocks, which were as hard as the rest of him.

Good gracious, he was magnificent. His long, lean, muscled body was built to be worshipped like a statue in some ancient Greek shrine. Apollo, perhaps.

She sucked in her breath, her body flooding with heat. Shocked and embarrassed, but also something else. Curious? Nay, the strange, warm tingling in her br**sts and between her legs told her it was more than that.

She was attracted to him—aroused by his nakedness.

Quickly, she dropped her gaze, ashamed by her body’s reaction. What was wrong with her? All those muscles, all that raw power, should be terrifying her. She’d be helpless against such strength.

She needed to get this over with. How long had it been? A minute? Two? There wasn’t much time left.

She closed her eyes, said another prayer for courage, and carefully climbed onto the bed beside him. The mattress sagged with her weight, causing her heart to jolt. She listened for the even sounds of his breathing, but her heart was in her ears and she couldn’t hear anything else. But he wasn’t moving; that was a good thing.

She tried to make herself small, turning on her side at the edge of the bed and leaving as much space between them as possible. Though they weren’t touching, she could feel him. He was so big and warm—his body seemed to radiate heat like a fire.

Hoping her father would hurry up, she started counting in her head. One minute. Two.

Where was he?

All of a sudden the bed squeaked as he shifted behind her. She gasped when his big arm wrapped around her waist, just under her br**sts, and pulled her against the hard length of his body.

She froze like a deer in the archer’s sights. Shock and awareness waged war with her senses. Mostly, she was aware of his heat enveloping her. Of the sheer power of the big, hard body behind her.

What was she going to do?

She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. It felt as if she’d been encased in warm steel, his big warrior’s body rigid and unyielding but inexplicably cozy.

Good Lord, his arms were strong. She could feel the latent raw power in the big muscles flexed against her waist and br**sts. She remembered how he’d wielded his sword with deadly precision and tried not to panic.

A task that became impossible when she became aware of something else: He wasn’t asleep.

Five

For a moment, Tor thought he was dreaming. He sensed the woman beside him, her soft, feminine scent wreaking havoc with his mind. He couldn’t think straight; his head felt as if it had been stuffed with wool.

Bloody hell, he must have had more to drink than he realized. It had been a long time since anyone had snuck up on him. But the twinge of annoyance was quickly forgotten as his body reacted to her presence.

And react it did. Every muscle in his body vibrated with awareness.

This was just what he needed. A soft, willing woman to drown out thoughts of another.

Apparently, MacDonald had ignored his wishes and sent him a lass anyway. He smiled lazily. He’d have to thank his host in the morning.

He drew the lass against his body, her softness melting against him. She was a tiny little thing but felt surprisingly good in his arms, lush and soft, with plenty of womanly curves. And God, that smell. He inhaled, sinking his nose into the soft silk of her hair. Incredible.

The soft hitch of her breath when his mouth touched her ear sent a bolt of lust shooting straight to the head of his cock. He felt himself hardening against the sweet curve of her bottom and knew right away that he was in for an enjoyable ride.

She gasped and he felt her body stiffen with shock, a reaction he was used to. He chuckled. Aye, he was a big man. “Don’t worry, lass,” he murmured in her ear, his lips trailing down the velvety skin of her neck to the sensitive juncture at her shoulder and nape. “I’ll be gentle.”

It was a promise he didn’t know if he could keep. The honey taste of her skin was driving him half-crazy. She was so damned soft and sweet. He nuzzled deeper into her neck and shoulder, kissing her, sucking, tasting, unable to get enough of her, his hunger insatiable. Her long hair fell around him in a silky veil, tickling his bare chest. He wanted her naked against him, skin to skin, but he didn’t think he could wait. His need was overpowering.

Her soft, uneven gasps egged him on. Playing the innocent, was she? He didn’t typically enjoy such games, but right now he didn’t care. Lust filled his groin with heavy, molten heat. His skin felt like it was on fire. He was already as hard as a damned spike.