Page 57 of Wild Highland Rose
He'd wanted so much to please her. To prove to her that a man and a woman coming together could be a joyous thing. It had been hard to contain his own desire. To pleasure her first. But it had been more than worth it.
Marjory was amazing. She had given him more than her body. She had gifted him with a part of her soul. It was the most precious gift he had ever received.
A niggle of guilt tugged at the back of his mind. He shouldn't have let it happen. The little voice in his head chided him for his callousness. He had taken from her, but what had he given in return? A night to remember? No, Marjory wasn't like that. Last night had been a commitment of sorts, a commitment that he couldn't afford to make.
He had to get back to his own time. He had to face himself, to discover for better or worse who he really was. Everything else was secondary. He had to find a way to make her understand that.
The little niggle of guilt blossomed into full-fledged culpability. With a sigh, he disentangled himself from her sleeping form, smoothing back a stray strand of silky black hair. She smiled in her sleep. Dear God, what had he done?
He stood, shivering in the cool morning air. His muscles were sore from their ordeal on the lake, and he stretched, trying to work out some of the stiffness. First the swim, then the hike to the cottage, and then… he smiled despite his worries. The night might have started on a bad note, but it had definitely ended as a perfectly orchestrated symphony. He laughed at the poetic turn of his thoughts, pulling on his trews.
He tugged his shirt over his head, then stared at his plaid, shaking his head ruefully. It looked dry, but that didn't mean he'd be able to get the damn thing on.
"Cameron?"
Happiness rippled through him at the sound of his name on her lips. He turned to find blue eyes gazing at him sleepily. "Good morning."
She yawned, stretching like a cat, and glanced at the sky. "We should have been on our way ages ago."
"I guess we got a little sidetracked." He grinned, remembering in vivid detail the exact nature of their detour.
She sat up, smiling, pushing her hair back from her face. He felt his body tighten as he drank in the sight of her luscious curves. Suddenly, aware of his scrutiny, she blushed pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"I'm sorry, I forgot…" Her face grew redder. "I mean…"
"Hush, princess. It's all right. Here, put this on." He handed her the shift, turning his back so that she could dress. The irony of his actions didn't escape him, but he felt, perhaps absurdly, under the circumstances, a powerful urge to protect her, even from himself.
Especially from himself.
"You can turn around now. I'm decent." She had not only donned the shift, but had managed to tie the blanket securely back into place. It gave her an exotic look. Not that 15th century Scotland wasn't exotic. "Do you have any idea what time o' day it is?"
"No, not exactly." He glanced at the sun, wishing for his Rolex. "But I'd say it's almost noon."
"I beg your pardon?" She looked at him quizzically.
"I think it's nearly midday." He corrected, wondering if he'd ever get used the language barrier. Not that it mattered. He wouldn't be here long enough to worry about adjusting his speech permanently.
Marjory made her way to the doorway, fastening her sporran around her waist as she walked. "We'd best get moving then."
"I can't go anywhere until I get this thing on." He pointed at the length of wool still hanging from the tree limb.
She stood with her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised in question.
Cameron actually felt himself blush. He shrugged. "I can't get the damned thing on without help."
Her laughter peeled out across the room, punctuating his embarrassment. "Come here then, I'll give you a hand."
He grabbed the wool and held it out to her. She wrapped it around his waist, neatly gathering its bulk into pleats. At the feel of her hands, he caught his breath, his heart rate accelerating. He tried grabbing the material from her. A mistake, skin against skin was even more compelling. They stood holding hands, staring at each other, their breathing coming in gasps, the plaid falling forgotten to the floor.
Sunlight streamedthrough the hole in the roof, pulling Marjory from the contented lethargy of sleep. Opening her eyes, she nestled closer to Cameron's radiating warmth. He groaned in his sleep, one arm thrown possessively across her waist.
She stretched, pointing her toes, feeling her body come fully awake. She closed her eyes against the intrusive sun and allowed herself to relive the night and morning's discoveries. The second time had been even better than the first, and her body hummed at the just thought of Cameron's lips and hands touching her. She shivered with delight at the memory.
She probably ought to be feeling remorse, or, at the very least, regret, but the plain fact was she didn't. Perhaps those feelings would come later. She pushed the thought aside. Right now, she simply wanted to enjoy the moment. Time enough, later, for concern.
She rolled slightly, turning toward Cameron. His eyes flickered open sleepily. She smiled, self consciously. It was one thing to remember their lovemaking on her own and quite another to think of it with him watching. She felt herself blush and bit the side of her lip. "We fell asleep again."
Cameron grinned, pulling her close. "Well you have a way of wearing a man out, Marjory mine."
