Page 18 of Bound to a Warrior
“If you should change your mind—”
“I shall let you know.”
“How?” he asked with a teasing glint.
“Why, I shall simply tell you, of course.”
“You’ll tell me that you want to couple with me,” he said as if confirming her response. “You will say it clearly so it could not be misunderstood.”
Mercy took a step closer to him, though not close enough that they should touch. She then reached out and did what she had seen her mother do time and again to the man who had kept her. She caressed his lips with the tip of her finger over and over and over again as she said, “I want you, Duncan. I want you now.”
Mercy only intended it as a demonstration.
Duncan took it differently.
She was in his arms and his lips on hers before she had a chance to react and by then she realized she liked the taste of him. His kiss wasn’t hungry, sloppy or hurried and he didn’t grope her. His arm remained taut around her waist while his lips simply took command.
And though she had never been kissed, it didn’t matter. She did what came naturally to her and tasted him with all the enthusiasm of a novice ready and willing to learn. And she didn’t want to stop. She wanted to go on tasting him, until a tingle started between her legs and she felt the urge to press closer, more intimately against him. She knew then she had to stop, or soon passion would take command and the choice would not be hers. And hadn’t her mother told her endlessly that when a woman controlled the passion, she controlled the man? Right now, at this moment, she needed to be in control.
Reluctantly, she broke away from him, her lips lingering for one last moment on his before she took a step back.
“That is how you shall know I want you,” she said a bit breathless and trying to ignore his flaring nostrils and heaving chest.
He looked about to speak and then, as if thinking better, shut his mouth tightly.
“Perhaps we should leave our remaining garments on to dry,” she suggested.
He nodded, turned toward the fire and continued to remain silent.
She chose to do the same.
She suddenly realized she was still bare-breasted and wished to slip her blouse back on. But it was too wet, as was her skirt. She needed to get her garments dried and with hours yet before nightfall, it was possible that her blouse could dry. Then she could slip it on and her skirt off, leaving her long blouse to provide cover.
She moved to gain distance, forgetting they were attached, and yanked him along with her. He stumbled, though righted himself without touching her, and then in unison they sat before the fire.
Where once she felt comfortable with him, she now was apprehensive. She blamed it on the kiss. The kiss had changed things between them. How or why, she wasn’t sure. She only knew that things were now different.
A twinge in her foot reminded her that she had not attended to her sore feet, and she quickly set to the task, besides her boots needed drying. The wet leather gave her a bit of a struggle and after her effort produced a grunt and a groan, Duncan reached out and took command.
He pushed her hands away and with a gentle yank had her boots off in no time. He did the same to his own and placed both hers and his near the heat of the fire. He then turned and slipped his hand around her ankle and lifted it to rest on his crossed legs.
“I can see—”
A quick raise and snap of his hand had her protest dying on her lips. Now was not a good time to argue with him, so she let him have his way.
He was gentle as he unwrapped the swath of cloth she had used to protect her blistered toe. He examined it, raising her leg to get a better look. When he was done he did the same to her other foot.
She thought him done, since he draped the strips of cloth over the boots. And with her feet more chilled than aching, she wanted to warm them by the fire. But when she started to slide her feet off his legs, his hand quickly stopped them. Then without a word he began to rub the warmth back into one.
She never expected his large hands to be so nimble. He massaged her sole with deep, thrusting strokes, chasing the chill from her feet. Then he tenderly worked heat into her toes, taking his time until each one glowed pink. After finishing the one foot, he worked on the other. And she simply sat with her eyes closed and enjoyed as the heat spread from her feet up along her body.
Somewhere in her head she was reminding herself that she should be more concerned with making certain her blouse dried, but convinced herself that her feet were just as important.
Suddenly she recalled her naked breasts and the consequences of not seeing that her blouse dried. It meant sleeping completely naked in Duncan’s arms again. And after their kiss, she didn’t think that was a wise idea.
He stopped just as she opened her eyes, and she was relieved that no comment was necessary. She stretched her feet out far enough so that the fire’s heat would continue to keep them warm. She then fussed with arranging her blouse as best as possible to dry, hoping he would follow her lead. Gratefully he did, and they once again settled quietly in silence.
She didn’t care for the uncomfortable silence between them. She missed the ease in which they had talked with one another and the sense of safety she had felt with him. The kiss had simply ruined everything, but yet…
