Page 21 of Scot of Desire
Ilyssa’s gaze found Bran’s as he turned his head back toward her.
Her stomach jolted once again, as if a candle flame had been placed close to her chest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ilyssa closed the bedchamber door before her and looked around the corridor. This late at night, it was flooded with moonlight, white and silver in every direction she looked. Fortunately, there was no yellow light from a candle, anywhere. She was completely alone.
She looked back at the closed bedchamber door behind her. She knew she should go back to bed, that she should forget everything that had happened over the last two days, but she had tried for hours to sleep with little success.
I have tae see him.
She was cold wearing just her nightgown and robe, but it still didn’t stop her as she moved away from the door. She raised her hands over her arms, feeling the goosebumps as she walked down the corridor. Her breath was clouding the air in front of her. She continued on despite the coldness bidding her to turn back. She walked all the way to the west wing of the house, unseen by any guard.
When she found the door she knew led to Bran’s bedchamber, for her brother’s was two doors down, she hovered outside of it.
This is bold of me. He may turn me away, reprimand me, and urge me tae go back tae sleep.
Yet she also knew that her need to see him could not be dampened with reasoned words.
I have tae see him.
She reached for the door handle and turned it, stepping inside fast, without even thinking about knocking in case someone came upon her at any second in the corridor.
The first thing she saw in the room was the giant bed covered in wolf furs and warm blankets. The next thing were the orange flames in the fire grate, with a copper bathtub beside it, steaming with hot water.
Her eyes shot to the figure beside the bath, not just shirtless, but wearing nothing at all.
She gasped as Bran’s head shot toward her, his eyes as wide as her own.
Bran was standing there in his full glory with not a stitch on him. Not only were the carved muscles of his chest on show, but the perfect ‘v’ shape of his hips that led down to his length was visible too, half hidden in short hairs.
I ken every part of him now.
“Ily – wait!”
She turned away fast, without thinking, and shot so quickly toward the door that she banged her head on the door jamb.
“Ah!” she said in surprise, teary-eyed at the sudden pain now shooting through her temple and into her eyes. She reached for the door, blindly, trying to pull it open and escape.
As her hand found the handle and she pulled the door open, it was suddenly snatched out of her grasp. The door was kicked shut and she turned, leaning against it, her eyes shooting open.
Bran stood before her, no longer quite bare as he was hastily fastening a pair of trews around his hips.
“Good evening,” he said, an amused smile on his lips. “Well, ye have never had a problem with seeing me shirtless before. Ye didnae run off when we all went swimming in the lochs.”
“That was naeallof ye!” she cried in sudden panic and waved a hand between them as he finished tying his trews. She glanced down at his hips, her cheeks heated red, then she looked back up at him again.
“Well, that answers the question about how much ye exactly saw. Everything, then?”
“Bran!” she hissed. “Let me go.” She turned to the door to find that he had shoved his foot against it, keeping it shut. “Bran,” she hissed at him again.
“Ilyssa, let me look at ye.”
“I beg yer pardon!?” She flung herself around on the door again, trying to keep her back as flat as possible as the wood, so she was not tempted to curl herself into his bare chest.
“Yer head, Ilyssa. Ye hit yerself hard. Come, let me see.” His fingers took a gentle hold of the back of her neck as he angled her head toward him, the better to see the wound.
“I’m fine,” Ilyssa insisted. “I didnae hit meself that hard.”
