It couldn’t be soon enough for him.Women.
…
Tate MacDonnell’s house stood near the frozen shore of Loch Ericht. Juliana looked out at the winter woodlands of Glen Truim from the window of the bedchamber she’d been given. It was a quiet, secluded area, and she could imagine how beautiful and serene the place would be in the midst of summer, with the trees in full leaf and the loch shimmering blue in the sunshine.
Highlander hospitality still amazed her. She sat back in the stuffed chair near the window with her swollen ankle resting on the ottoman in front of her. They’d arrived less than two hours ago, and she’d already had a heavenly hot bath and a tray of bread, cheese, salted venison, and tea—tea!—had been sent up. The village healer—who reminded her of old Gwendolyn at Strae Castle—had been sent for and had declared nothing broken. She’d prepared a poultice to bring the swelling down, wrapped the foot, and ordered Juliana to stay off it until morning. She wasn’t going to argue the point, since her backside was nearly as sore as her ankle.
It also gave her some time to reflect. Juliana poured the rest of the tea into her cup and took a sip. That the old panic hadn’t risen this afternoon when she’d felt Rory’s obvious condition was somewhat of a miracle. What was even more of a wonderment, though, was howherbody had reacted. For the first time in her life she’d felt…desire. As if she wanted something…more.
The thought was confusing. She couldn’t fathom how a man shoving his engorged member into a woman, impaling her, could be pleasant. When it had happened to her, it had felt like her insides were being ripped apart, and she’d bled for two days afterward. And yet…today that odd little spot between her thighs had throbbed and pulsed, and she’d felt herself turning to mush. The sensationhadbeen…pleasant. She’d wanted to press herself against the hardness of Rory’s shaft andrub.
She hadn’t understood what she was experiencing, so she’d done the only thing she could think of. Act like nothing was happening. Change the subject. Be bossy. At least that had taken her mind off what her body had been feeling. But she had no idea why she had decided to touch his leg afterward. As though her hand had a mind of its own. His leg, of all places. Women did not touch men’s legs.
Someone rapped on her door, and a moment later it opened and Rory poked his head around. “Ah, ye are decent,” he said and then stepped through.
“You should not be in here.”
“I left the door open.” He pointed to it as he took the other chair in the room. “Besides, the MacDonnells think I am escorting ye back to my brother, remember?”
She frowned, suddenly not relishing that lie, although it was probably preferable to declaring them handfasted, which had all sorts of complications that she didn’t want to add to her already confused state. She had considered confronting him after Sima had explained to her that the handfasting was lawful, but since Rory had never brought it up, much less tried to take his rightful place in her bed, it was too embarrassing to ask. And, by now, it was far too late. She pushed the thought aside. “The brother is not Devon, is it?”
Rory laughed. “No one who has ever met Devon would ever believe he would court a Sassenach.”
“It would be interesting if he ever met my cousin Anne.” Juliana smiled at him. “She distrusts the Scots as much as he does the English.”
Rory raised a brow. “Isn’t she the one who sent gowns with ye because she thought we all ran around in pieces of plaid?”
“Well, yes, but she thought there were no seamstresses north of the border.”
“She thinks us barbarians, then.”
“I am afraid so.” Juliana grinned suddenly. “It would be enjoyable to be a mouse in the corner if they ever did meet.”
“’Tis unlikely, but mayhap the world is a safer place for it.” Rory grinned, too. “But going back to my story, I told Tate ’tis Alasdair, since he’s in Ireland.”
Juliana grimaced. “Let’s hope he never hears of it, since he’s sweet on Lorelei.”
“Aye.” Rory shrugged. “I doubt the rumor will follow us and, if it does, ye can always cry off, like ye’ll do with the handfasting.”
Juliana gave him a sideways glance. Of course, he would want her to do that if anyone at Strae Castle found out. He would want his life back once they got home. For the first time, the thought was somewhat unsettling. She realized that in the past two weeks she had grown rather used to having him near. She gave herself a mental shake.
“So why have you decided to visit me?”
“Ah. That.” He grimaced. “There is another storm coming.”
She frowned. “How do you know? Will it be as bad as the last?”
Rory shrugged. “Although General Wade built a good road through Drumochter Pass forty-five years ago, it doesna keep the snow from blocking the way. I doona ken when it will reopen.”
“So you want us to leave now?”
Juliana straightened and started to put her foot down, but Rory placed his hand on her knee. “The wind has nae clocked around yet. Tomorrow at dawn should be early enough. Ye need to rest your foot.”
“What about Misty?”
“She should be fine. The thistle dinna break her skin.” Rory rose to leave. “I just wanted to give ye fair warning that we will be on our way early.”
She looked at the closed door after he left. He’d only placed his hand on her for an instant, but she could have sworn she still felt lingering heat on her leg. And she hadn’t minded his touch. At all.What in the world is happening to me?
