Page 33 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
Nevertheless, she couldn’t let herself be swayed by his teasing words and kisses, however intoxicating.
“Me Lady?” The maid’s voice brought her back to the present. “The bath is ready for ye.”
“Thank ye.” Lydia rose and went to the other room to grab her favorite soap. After a moment, she also picked up the book she’d been reading. It was a romance, one of her favorites, and she thought it might soothe her unsettled mood. At the very least, it would give her something else to think about.
She settled into the water, careful to keep the book well away from it, and flicked it open to the last place she’d stopped. The heroine had just escaped from a pack of ravening wolves, rescued by the hero, and they were huddled together in a cave, a feeble fire all that stood between them and the encroaching chill of evening.
‘Are ye cold?’ She looked up into his dark eyes, shivering slightly as another gust of wind sent frozen drafts of air through their meager shelter.
‘And if I said I was?’ There was a heat in his eyes that rivaled the flickering flames of their fire; a heat she feared would burn her if she got too close.
‘Then I’d say I know a way to keep ye warm.’ His hand, calloused from sword and shield, cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek in a tender gesture.
‘Ye cannae be suggesting…’
‘And why nae? Will ye really look me in the eye and tell me that ye daenae want me as much as I want ye? That ye daenae feel the heat and passion between us?’
She stared into Murdoch’s eyes, tempted and terrified all at once, drawn toward the promise she saw in them even as she…
Lydia slammed the book shut and tossed it away , her heart pounding and her face hotter than the bath water.
Why? Why had she thought of Murdoch in that scene? She’d even used his name, rather than the hero’s! And now all she could think of was how the scene in the story progressed, and what it would be like if it was Murdoch as the hero, and herself as the heroine.
Face burning with embarrassment, Lydia hurried through her ablutions, futilely trying to wash away the memory of those blissful moments by the fairy pool. As the water cooled, she abandoned the tub and retreated to her bed chamber to don the soft, worn, casual dress she’d had the maid lay out for her.
The book still lay on the floor, and it was only her respect for all things literary that made her pick it up and place it gently on top of the bedside table. Just looking at the cover made her face heat.
Murdoch Nairn. He was frustrating and infuriating,. but also handsome, and friendly when he wished to be. Clearly, he was no stranger to the art of seduction. Although it had been fun to dream about such romantic encounters, now that she’d had her first true experience , it felt utterly different.
She wanted him; desired more of what they’d shared. But she’d meant what she’d said about choosing her own time to consummate the marriage. How could she risk such intimacy, when to him it was merely physical?
No matter how much he tempted her, she couldn’t give herself to a man who was unwilling to share all of himself with her. That was all there was to the matter. Until he was willing to be open with her, willing to let her into his past, she couldn’t afford to indulge in any more games of seduction with him.
Though, she did still want to have meals with him and get to know him better. She just wasn’t sure if it would be worth the effort if he only intended to continue with his previous mulish behavior.
She was still trying to decide whether she would seek him out, brave the Great Hall, or ask the maids to bring her up a tray, when there was a knock on her door.
19
Murdoch leaned wearily against the nursery door , watching as Finn played a game with his stuffed animals under the watchful eyes of Wilma and the nursery maid. The lad was happy enough, babbling and giggling as he waved the animals about in a joyful manner.
Not far away, Hector was curled up, watching the bairn with half-lidded eyes. Murdoch studied the dog, wondering why he was so comfortable with the hound’s presence.
Hector wasn’t a small dog. If he chose, he could easily hurt, or possibly even kill, any of them. And yet, Murdoch trusted him as a guard for his son. Seeing Hector nearby made him feel more at ease, not less.
It was ironic that he’d never thought of getting a dog as a guard and companion for his son, yet Lydia’s protector fulfilled that role with ease.
Lydia. She’d not even been in his home for seven days, but was already making her presence felt, leaving marks that would be difficult, if not impossible, to erase. She’d become Wilma’s friend, provided a protector for his son, and somehow managed to sneak past his defenses to awaken feelings he’d thought were dead and buried.
It was more than his first wife had ever accomplished, and it left him feeling oddly off-balance. As much as he disliked the loneliness he’d grown accustomed to before Lydia arrived, at least it was something he was familiar with. Her presence changed everything, and left him uncertain how to deal with the changes.
He could still recall how she’d played with Finn, chatted with Wilma and smiled at him. Bold, bright and fearless;- or at least strong enough to conquer her fears. It was difficult to imagine not having her around. Being around Lydia was like finally seeing the sun, when all he’d seen for uncounted days was rain.
He couldn’t ignore or deny Lydia’s influence. That meant he needed to make a decision to either pull her close or send her away.
He didn’t want to send her away, which meant he needed to do something to convince her to stay. Murdoch considered his options for a moment, then called over the nursery maid. “Dress me son in his Holy Day clothing. Then call one of the serving lasses and have them bring dinner for two, and a smaller portion for Finn, to me current chambers.”
“Yes me Laird.”
