The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(61)

Her heart beat frantically in her chest. He had to feel it, to be aware of what he was doing to her.

Of course he did. He’d done this a thousand times.

But why was he looking at her so … intently. Tenderly. As if she were special.

She wasn’t special. No matter how much he made her feel as if she was. He did this with everyone. It didn’t mean anything.

But the look in his eyes …

She was so confused, wanting what she desperately knew she should not. His eyes searched hers, as if he were probing for an answer to an unanswered question. She felt his arm tighten around her as he drew her even closer.

She knew he was going to kiss her, and she didn’t stop him. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers, to see if it was as incredible as she remembered.

It was.

It felt right. As if it were meant to be. As if her mouth had been made for exactly this purpose: to be joined with his.

His lips were warm and silky soft, pressing gently, brushing over hers in a smooth caress, then holding for one long heartbeat before breaking apart.

Its brevity was its very devastation. She wanted so much more. One taste only reminded her of the passion that had flared between them before. Passion that was coiled and tight and ready to break free.

He let her go, and her heart lurched at the sudden separation. Her body craved the contact. But the moment was gone.

“Why did you do that?” she blurted.

He shook his head, amused. “Does everything have to have a reason?”

Her reply was automatic. “Yes.”

He laughed. “Can’t you just relax and enjoy the moment, and do something because it feels right?”

Passion for passion’s sake? Desire for desire’s sake? The idea was utterly foreign to her, anathema to her duty and position. Of course, she couldn’t … could she?

“Come,” he said. “I think I’d better show you that surprise. Let’s see how fast you can swim. I’ll race you back to shore.”

“It won’t be much of a race,” she said, still trying to collect her jumbled thoughts. “I’ve seen you swim.”

His mouth lifted on one side. “I’ll give you a head start.”

He still won. Ellie dragged herself up the beach beside him, shivering and exhausted after the exertion of the swim. The subtle warmth of the winter sun could not penetrate her frozen limbs.

She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed, trying to get the sensation back. “Next time instead of a head start, I’m going to insist you not use your legs.”

He only laughed, and she had a feeling he’d still win.

“You’re fast,” he said. “For a—”

“Don’t say it,” she warned threateningly, though the effect was lost by her chattering teeth. “My brothers learned very quickly not to make that mistake. I might be only a lass, but I can be quite inventive when it comes to revenge.”

He gave her an appraising look, his eyes scanning her scantily clad form in a way that made her chilled blood warm and her prickling skin tighten. Her ni**les beaded under her damp chemise.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

Abruptly, he grabbed her hand and started to lead her back to the cliff.

“Can we jump again?” she asked.

“Hell—” He stopped himself. “Nay. Don’t you want to see the surprise?”

She looked around. “Where is it?”

“Right in front of you.”

She glanced around, at first seeing only the wide spans of sandy beach sloping gently to a grassy hillside on one side and the rocky cliff on the other.

Then she saw it. About fifty feet up the shore from the water’s edge, nestled between the hillside and the cliff, was a small building. Except for the narrow wooden door and plume of smoke, billowing gently from above, it was nearly impossible to see on a quick glance. Too small to be a house, its earthen roof and walls seemed to blend into the hillside.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I promised you would be warm, didn’t I? This is how my ancestors used to come in from a winter swim.”

Her eyes widened with excitement. “A sauna?”

He nodded, surprised that she’d guessed so easily. “You’ve seen one?”

She shook her head. “Nay, but I’ve always wanted to.” She hurried after him, trying not to notice the way the linen of his damp tunic and braies clung to his powerful frame or the flex of his leg muscles as he walked.

He opened the door, and the blast of heat hit her like a smith’s bellows. “Hurry,” he said, hustling her in. “Don’t let the air out.”

He ducked under the door frame, and she quickly followed him in.

The heat was overwhelming. Stifling. It felt as though she’d just stepped into a bonfire. At first it was difficult to breathe. The steamy air was thick and humid, filling her lungs. But her icy skin immediately warmed with a tingling, drenching heat.

After the bright sunlight, it took her eyes a moment to grow accustomed to the semidarkness. She glanced around the small room. It resembled a round earthen cave. The ceiling was low—less than six feet, she’d guess, as Hawk couldn’t stand up straight—and the walls were no farther than eight feet apart. The floor was set with large flat stones, but everything else looked as if it had been carved into the earth. There was a stone oven on her left, piled high with rocks. Straight ahead, opposite the door, two benches had been built into the wall—one at normal seating level and one a little higher. A few large buckets of water sat by the door.