Page 43 of Kilted Seduction
The fire was banked to warm embers, the lanterns mostly out. He was still in the healer’s cottage, although a night and a day had passed, lying beside Thora on her pallet before the fire.
Thora twitched, then whimpered. “Wait… please… dinnae go…” One hand moved, as if she were reaching for someone in her sleep.
A nightmare. He’d had enough of them to know the signs. And hadn’t she told him that part of her heedless determination to act on every inkling of warning was due to a loss, or some terrible misunderstanding, in her childhood?
He reached out and laid a hand on her unwounded shoulder. “Thora. Wake up lass. It isnae real.”
Another whimper, then a gasp, then her eyes flew open. “They didnae…”
“’Tis all right. If ye’re seein’ the past, ‘tis long past. If yer fearing fer what happened taeday, ye’re the only one who took more than a bruise or two. The men ye pushed out o’ the way are nae the worse fer it. Unless one counts drinkin’ too much ale and spirits and sufferin’ a sore head taemorrow.”
Thora blinked at him. “A tree fell…”
“And ye acted quick enough tae save two lives. The healer says ye’ll ache fer a while, but ye’ll mend with time.”
She started to move, then winced. “Och, me shoulder…”
“Took a branch half as big around as me thumb through the muscle o’ it. ‘Tis nae surprise if it hurts, even with the medicine ye were given. Aedan laid a gentle hand on her bandaged limb. “The splinters also tore up yer arm and bruised yer side.”
Thora grimaced at him. “I can feel that. ‘Tis… uncomfortable.”
“Ye’re lucky ‘tis all it is. Ye could have had yer skull cracked in two or half yer bones broken when that tree came down.” Aedan swallowed against the thick pressure in his throat as he recalled those harrowing moments in the snow. “If the branch that entered yer shoulder had been larger, or hit lower down, it could have killed ye.”
“I tried tae get out o’ the way.”
“Ye barely succeeded.” His voice rasped in his throat, but for once, Aedan didn’t care if he sounded emotional, or less than perfectly stoic. “Ye nearly died!”
“But I didnae. And nae one else did either, which is what I wanted tae prevent.” She sounded so calm, so at ease with the fact that she’d nearly been killed that Aedan wanted to shake her. He might have given in to the urge, had he not been almost painfully aware of her injuries
“That isnae me point. Ye near did perish. When first I saw ye underneath that tree, I wasnae sure ye lived. All I could see was ye, motionless, in blood on the snow.” He bent closer, his voice a raw, horse whisper as he continued. “I thought ye dead, and all because o’ me own arrogance, because I didnae believe ye when ye said something was going tae happen.”
Thora blinked, visibly startled by his words. “But… ye didnae ken… the warning was too unclear. It could have meant anything. Ye had nae reason tae pay heed tae it… that was why I had tae come with ye…”
“Dinnae make excuses fer me, when ye ken full well I didnae intend tae heed yer warning.” Aedan couldn’t help the growl of exasperation that filled his voice. “Ye may have felt ye had tae go because ye couldnae see the danger clearly, but ‘twould nae have mattered had ye nae sensed I thought ye were wrong, or being foolish and overly fearful.”
“I…”
“Enough. We could argue this until the new year dawns, and nae ken anything more, nor come tae any agreement.” Aedan leaned close to her, his hand curving to tenderly cup her jaw. “So understand this, Thora MacTavish… understand that I believe ye. I may nae always be able tae bring meself tae trust yer gift completely, but I believe ye, and I willnae have ye risking yer life.”
Thora blinked at him, her eyes shadowed by pain and hazy from sleep and the medicine the healer had given her for her injuries. “Ye sound as if ye’re worried fer me…as if ye care about me.”
There was no point in denying it, not when every man who’d gone traipsing with the Lachlan for the Yule Log had seen his panic in the clearing. “I did. An’ I dae.”
Thora blinked again. “But… I’m nae really yer wife… nor yer love…” Her voice was a confused, whisper, barely audible even as close as he was. “’Tis only…”
“Dinnae tell me ‘tis only’ aught, Thora. It may have started as such, but ye and I both ken that ‘tis far more now. I kent it the first time I kissed ye, and dinnae act as if ye felt naething when we stood under the Kissing Bough taegether.” He met her gaze, determined to make his point. “Can ye honestly say ye think differently? That ye didnae feel the same heat and desire that I did?”
“I… I did. An’ I…” Thora reached up to run her good hand across his face, before clutching weakly at his shirt. “I still dae.”
The soft admission slipped past all Aedan’s defenses like a well-aimed arrow. In the face of such raw, earnest vulnerability, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her soft, rose-petal lips.
Her mouth was warm, no longer chill and blue tinged as it had been when they’d arrived, her lips pliant against his own. She tasted of medicine, beef broth and mulled wine, tinged with the faintest hint of pine.
He’d only intended it to be a chaste, gentle kiss, a way to reassure her that he did care for her, and to reassure himself that she lived and would be well. Then Thora gasped, her mouth opening and tongue lightly brushing along his as her hand tugged him closer.
Aedan’s restraint vanished like mist on a summer morn. His free hand slid under her head and shoulders to cradle her as he pulled her close and the kiss deepened between them. His mouth claimed hers, passion like sparks dancing between them as his tongue danced with hers in an effort to map every inch of the welcoming softness of her. It was sweet and it was fierce, and the strength of it made his blood burn and his manhood strain painfully against the heavy winter leggings he wore.
All the desperation he’d felt since seeing her motionless under the tree transmuted into desire, and Aedan felt himself in danger of being swept away.
