Page 23 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
“Do ye ken nothin’ of how to survive when ye’re cold?” He clicked his tongue in obvious annoyance. “Ye’ll get warm fast if ye’re bare beside someone else. Dinnae make it into somethin’ lewd.”
Still uncertain, she slowly began to peel her wet, uncomfortable clothes off her body. Her stays and drawers were not too damp, and she could not bring herself to be entirely naked, so she kept them on as she carried her sodden dress and shift to the rack. There, she laid them out, before kneeling down.
Murdoch had already turned his back to her, allowing her some privacy as she nervously crept in beside him. The furs and blankets were a warm, if musty, embrace that she wriggled into, before pulling the puppy beneath the blankets with her.
The dog gave her chin a sleepy lick and nestled against her chest, falling asleep again.
She, on the other hand, did not know that she would be able to sleep at all with Murdoch so close… and so entirely bare. There was a small gap between their backs, and though curiosity urged her to close that gap, common sense kept her where she was.
After all, he had not agreed to pretend to be her betrothed, and she would not take any risks with heractualpurity, not with a man who clearly had no interest in taking a wife. And he didn’t want her to bring the puppy with her.
But he didcome to find me. How did he ken I was lost? Why did he search these woods for me?
Indeed, though he had a strange way of showing it, he was showing concern for her even now. He had brought her to this cabin instead of spending an age returning to the castle, he had lit an excellent fire to keep her warm, and now he was using the heat of his body to ensure that she stayedwarm throughout the bitter night. Not only that, but he had let the puppy stay too.
It was a confusing situation to contemplate, the Laird of Clan Moore a walking contradiction—a man who handled her roughly but let a puppy have the spot closest to the fire; a man who did not like her but had come searching for her anyway; a man who had said he did not care about her story but then allowed her to stay at his castle, claiming he understood her resolution.
“Am I nae blockin’ the heat of the fire?” she asked, desperate to fill the stilted silence.
“Nay,” he muttered.
“Do ye visit this cabin often?”
“Nay.”
“Do ye have trouble sleepin’ outside the castle?”
“Nay.”
She smiled to herself. “What does a horse say?”
He ignored her, and though she could not see his face, she knew he was not smiling. She doubted the man was capable of it. Then again, she had made a sort of wager with Paisley that she would be able to coax a smile onto his face. Perhaps this was the perfect time to see if it was possible, or if it was, indeed, a challenge she could not hope to win.
“Ye ken, this isnae me first time bein’ caught in the snow,” she confessed after a moment, trying to think of the best story to tell. “I must’ve been twelve or so, and the snow had come down overnight, and I had this… notion. They’re nae always wise, and this definitely wasnae one of me wisest.”
She waited, but he did not respond, his silence prompting her to continue—either he was listening intently or he was about to tell her to be quiet. And until he did the latter, she would not.
“I told Paisley to come and meet me outside after she’d finished her chores. I kenned I had half an hour or so. So I got out and built a snowman around me, and I waited, peering out of this freezin’ cold thing—so excited that I didnae care that I couldnae feel any of me limbs.”
She paused. “Only, Paisley got waylaid by me aunt, who was lookin’ for me. Minutes went by, and I was thinkin’ that I was goin’ to have to give up before I actually froze to death. But then, just as I was about to surrender, Paisleyandme aunt came outside, and they stopped right beside the snowman. Me aunt was starin’ at it in horror. I didnae hesitate—I jumped right outof it and scared the pair of ‘em. Me aunt was so frightened that she fell into a snowdrift, and Paisley was laughin’ so hard that she turned bright purple, holdin’ her stomach. And I was too cold to do anythin’ but stand there with me arms held out.”
Murdoch did not move or make a sound other than his slow, even breathing. Had he fallen asleep? Cecilia had an impulse to nudge him or to turn around and peer over his shoulder to see if he was really asleep or just ignoring her.
Nay, better nae to be an annoyance to him. He might still kick me out into the snow.
She did not actually believe that, but he could make her move to another part of the cabin, and the warmth of the fireplace and the blankets was too delightful to lose.
“I cannae sleep,” she murmured, envying the puppy.
“I noticed,” Murdoch grumbled, confirming that he had simply been ignoring her.
She hesitated. “It’s the silence, ye see… I’m nae used to it. Ye’d think a convent would be dead silent, but as soon as those nuns go to sleep, it’s noisy as anythin’. A lot of snorin’. And I shared a cell with Paisley for eleven years—she doesnae snore, but she chatters in her sleep.”
“Aye, I can tell ye have difficulty with silence.” His voice was as low and rumbling as waves crashing against the cliffs.
She gazed into the fire, watching the flames between the drying clothes. “Yer voice might help me sleep.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she felt him roll over onto his other side, his front facing her back. There was still a gap between them, but she was all too aware that he wore nothing underneath the blankets, and his front could be a lot more dangerous to a lass’s honor than his back.
