Page 53 of The Highlander's Dangerous Bride

She looked a little surprised when he insisted on ushering her into his chambers instead of her own. “Well, all right. I can keep an eye on ye too then,” she replied, giving him an impish smile that melted his heart a little more. “In fact, I’ll make us some of that tea Broccàn gave us. We both need it. This way, I can make sure ye drink it. Give it here.”

She held out her hand, and Arne placed the packet into it. He paused to watch her as she crossed the large room to the fireplace, where a low fire was burning in the grate, making the room pleasantly warm and cozy. He walked over to join her and lit a spill from the fire before lighting the lamps on the mantel. He turned them up full, casting a warm, yellowish glow over everything.

Seeing her by the hearth, he suddenly recalled the previous night, when she had walked in on him in the tub. His groin twitched, and he wondered if she was thinking of it too. But if she was, she showed no sign. She merely bustled about, filling the kettle from the water jug and then hanging it over the fire to heat up for the tea. Now and then, one of them would burst out in a coughing fit.

Arne sighed, glad the drama was over, for he too felt tired, yet also strangely content. He walked about aimlessly, kicking off his boots and discarding his sword belt. Suddenly, he caught sight of himself in the long looking glass next to his wardrobe. “Christ, I look a sight,” he said, starting to laugh. “Come over here, Raven, and get a look at us.”

She stopped what she was doing and went over to stand next to him.

“Oh, by the Wee Man! What a sight,” she agreed, laughing as they inspected their bedraggled reflections, each rubbing at the layer of sooty smuts covering their skin and clothes. Full of mirth, their eyes shone out like bright gems from beneath the filth, their smiles flashes of white.

“I look like a burnt crow,” she said laughingly. “Nay, a burnt mad crow,” she corrected herself, lifting up hanks of her wildly disarranged black hair. Cinders fell from it like black snow, and when Arnie shook his long hair, more fell to the rug.

“Well, if ye’re burnt crow, what does that make me?” he asked, starting to cough from too much laughing. Raven instinctively reached up and patted his back until he stopped and got his breath, while at the same time, looking him up and down with a mischievous smile.

“I’m nae sure,” she said in a teasing tone, “but whatever it is, I wouldnae like tae meet it in a dark alley.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Now, that was a barefaced lie. For despite her aching lungs and throat, at that precise moment, black and filthy as he was, Arne was so achingly attractive to her, that if she had met him in a dark alley, he likely would not have been safe from the wanton desires now bubbling up inside her.

However, she was still a little fearful of another rejection should she make any overtures to him. So, she merely smiled and leaned her head against his arm to try to show her appreciation for his obvious effort to trust her. When his soot-smeared face split into a white grin, and he put an arm about her shoulders, squeezing her in an openly affectionate gesture, a warm glow expanded in her chest like a flower opening to the sun. For once, she detected no hint of doubt or suspicion in his demeanor. And it was glorious.

“I think we both need a bath,” she said, privately hoping his current mood would last as they continued to smile at each other in the looking glass.

“I’ll ring fer some hot water,” he said, reaching over and tugging on the bell rope to summon a servant.

“Aye, we’ll need plenty of it, and soap too,” Raven replied, savoring the warmth seeping through her gown from his body. Just then, the kettle began to hiss. “Och, I must get that,” she murmured, reluctantly slipping from his hold and hurrying over to the hearth. She knelt, taking up a cloth, ready to remove the boiling kettle from the fire, about to place it carefully in the grate.

But Arne had followed her and stood right next to her. She could not help but be distracted from what she was doing when he stretched his arms above his head enough to make his bones crack before settling into one of the armchairs, his long, muscular legs stretched out inches away from where she was kneeling. The view was so diverting, she narrowly avoided spilling the steaming water on herself.

She averted her eyes, groping for her previous train of thought as she set the kettle carefully in the hearth. “I-I t-think this dress is beyond savin’,” she finally stuttered.

“That’s a shame. ’Tis very pretty,” he replied, his eyes raking shamelessly over her, sending a flash of heat across her skin.

“Thank ye, but ’tis Sofia’s. I must replace it for her when I have the means.”

“Dinnae worry, she willnae mind since it was in a good cause. She can choose a new one as a replacement, and I’ll pay for it.”

His kind offer touched Raven’s heart. “Thank ye, Arne,” she told him with a smile of gratitude.

“In the meantime, we can ask the maids tae bring ye some clean clothes from yer chamber,” Arne said.

“Mmm,” she agreed, opening the packet of medicinal tea. “D’ye have a spoon and cups or beakers somewhere?”

He nodded. “Aye, I’ll get them,” he replied, standing up and crossing to a nearby cupboard. Already a little flustered by his proximity, Raven could not help secretly peeking at him as he walked over to it and thinking the maids were right—he was so braw!

He returned with two cups and a spoon, and when he handed them to her, their fingers brushed. Tingles raced up Raven’s arm. Arne resumed his seat next to her, and this time, she made sure to busy herself with stirring the tea rather than dwelling on his abundant masculine charms. But that was not to say she was not burningly aware of them.

When the tea had steeped for a few minutes, she poured it and handed him a cup. “Thank ye,” he murmured, sipping at the hot liquid and making a face. “Hmm, could be worse, I suppose.”

They drank in what felt to Raven like a companiable silence for a minute or two until there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Arne said. The door opened, and Laurel poked her head around it. Her eyes widened when she saw the state of them both.

“By the Wee Man, what happened tae ye?” she asked.

“There was a fire down at the barracks, and we got a wee bit dirty helpin’ out,” Arne explained.

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