Dwyn shook her head and caught the top of her gown to her chest as it began to fall away. “But ye do no’ wish to marry. I heard yer brother telling his wife ye’d said that.”

“I did no’ when I first got here, that is true,” he acknowledged. “But spending time with ye changed me mind.”

Dwyn was so amazed at this news she simply stared at him as he stepped back and bent to pick up something. One of her slippers, she realized when he straightened and leaned around her to slip it onto the foot Rory had said she could now stand on. Once it was firmly on her foot, he straightened, clasped her by the waist and carried her to the tub.

“Stand only on yer slippered foot,” Geordie reminded her before setting her down.

Dwyn kept her gown up with one hand, but reached for his arm with the other as she teetered briefly before adjusting to standing on one foot. Once she was sure she wouldn’t fall, she released him though, and returned that hand to her chest to help hold her gown up.

“I canno’ bathe ye with yer gown on, lass,” he said huskily. “Ye need to let it go.”

When Dwyn raised her head to peer at him with wide-eyed alarm, he smiled faintly and asked, “Where’s the brave lass who bared her breasts to me in the orchard? She’s the lass I admired so much I went to me brother and said I planned to marry her.”

Dwyn stared at him briefly, a small battle taking place in her head, and then she straightened her shoulders and let her hands drop. The wrinkled gown immediately slid down her body to pool around her feet. Dwyn swallowed and raised her chin as his gaze followed the same path, gliding over her breasts, down over her stomach, to her hips and the spot between her legs where his kisses had given her such pleasure, before finally following her legs to her feet, one slightly up and back to prevent it touching the ground, and the other still in its slipper. Then his gaze followed the same path back up, before settling on her face.

Dwyn noted the hunger in his eyes and felt heat and tingling roll through her body in response. His voice was a low, rough growl when he said, “I’m going to lift ye up and ye need to slip off yer slipper ere I place ye in the tub.”

Swallowing, she nodded once, and then braced herself as he stepped forward. Dwyn closed her eyes as his warm rough hands closed on the naked skin of her waist, and then opened them again as he lifted her. She reached instinctively for his shoulders to brace herself, and then stared past his head as she concentrated on getting her slipper off. A startled gasp slipped from her when something brushed one of her nipples and she glanced down to see that he’d raised her until her breasts were in front of his mouth. She watched silently as his mouth closed over one, and then closed her eyes as he began to draw on the nipple, sending a sharp shaft of pleasure through her.

Dwyn blinked her eyes open again when he released her nipple and ordered, “Hold yer hair up so it does no’ get wet.”

Reaching back, she gathered the long strands and lifted them, until he had lowered her into the tub. Then she let them fall over the edge of the tub where they wouldn’t get wet. She expected him to straighten and leave her to her bath then, and he did, but only long enough to fetch the soap and strip of linen Aileen had used earlier to wash her face. Carrying them back, he knelt beside the tub and dipped both into the water, before pulling them out to begin working the soap over the linen.

“I’m sorry ye’ve been hurt and made sick, lass,” Geordie said in a husky voice as he began to move the now-soapy cloth over her body, starting at her neck and shoulders, before moving lower. “But hopefully, with Catriona and Sasha gone, the attacks will end.”

“Aye,” Dwyn breathed, her eyes closing and head dropping back as he began to soap her breasts, his hands caressing even as they cleaned.

“Ye’re so beautiful when ye do that,” he growled, both hands on her breasts now and concentrating on the nipples, one with the linen, one without.

Blinking, she lowered her head with confusion. “When I do what?” she asked, and then gasped and threw her head back again when one of his hands suddenly dipped into the water to slide between her legs.

“That,” he said. “Ye close yer eyes, and throw yer head back, yer beautiful neck stretched tight and yer mouth open just a bit. It makes me want to—” His mouth covered hers suddenly and Dwyn opened her eyes and pulled her hands out of the water to wrap them around his neck. She moaned with pleasure when his tongue thrust between her lips and then cried out into his mouth when his fingers slid between the folds guarding her sensitive nub and began to run circles around it.

Dwyn kissed him back desperately as he caressed her, her fingers plucking and tugging at his plaid. She wanted to touch his naked skin. She wanted to run her hands over his shoulders and down his back. She wanted to press her breasts to his naked chest and . . . Dear God, she wanted him to keep touching her, but wanted him to taste her again too. She wanted that explosive release he’d given her before. But she wanted to touch him there too, so that he exploded as well, and she wanted . . .

Dwyn cried out with dismay when he suddenly broke their kiss, and then watched him stand and give his plaid a tug that had it dropping away to the floor. She barely got to see him in just his shirt, and note that he had fine strong legs, before he tugged the shirt up and off. Her gaze moved immediately to his pillicock and her eyes widened incredulously as she saw how large and hard it looked. It was pointing accusingly at her, she noted, before he bent and lifted her out of the tub.

“Put yer arms around me, lass,” Geordie ordered, and she did so automatically and then squeezed her eyes nervously closed as he stepped into the tub he’d just taken her out of. She didn’t open them again until he’d settled in the water with her in his lap, the backs of her knees on one side of the tub, her feet hanging over but not touching the floor, and her back against the other side, her hair trailing on the floor. She could feel his hard erection against her bottom, and her gaze shifted to Geordie’s face as he leaned back in the tub and looked her over as his hands returned to her body.

“One day I’d like to take ye to the loch and make love to ye under the waterfall,” he murmured, his hands closing over her breasts again. “There’s a little ledge on the wall under the falls I can set ye on while I love ye.”

“Oh,” Dwyn breathed, her eyes closing as she enjoyed his touch and envisioned what he was describing.

“Would ye like that?” he asked, shifting one hand between her legs to caress her there again.

“A-aye, G-Geordie,” Dwyn gasped, her legs automatically spreading to give him more room, and one hand sliding from his neck to drop and cover his, urging him on.

He kissed her again, and Dwyn kissed him back with all she had, her mouth opening, her tongue meeting his, her lips sucking and her chest twisting to press against his and slide soapy wet across the coarse hairs there. Her hips began to move, riding the hand caressing her, and her bottom was rubbing over the hardness beneath her. Dwyn heard water splashing out on the floor, but didn’t care as she chased that release she’d experienced before. And then he slid one finger into her and she broke their kiss on a gasp, her head pulling back so she could look at him. Geordie held her gaze and eased the finger in farther, his thumb now rubbing over the center of her excitement.

“Relax yer muscles, lass. Let me in,” he growled, easing his finger back out a ways before pushing back in, deeper this time, his thumb continuing to build her excitement as he did.

Whimpering, Dwyn leaned back against the side of the tub, her back arching, and legs opening and closing around his hand, hips moving into the caress. She tried to relax her muscles for him, but she was panting, her body tightening, the need in her becoming so intense she didn’t think she could bear it.

“That’s it, love. Give me yer passion,” he murmured, splashing water over her breasts with his free hand to rinse away the soap, before bending his head to claim one nipple. Catching it between his teeth, he nipped lightly, then began to draw hard, adding to the pressure building in her, and Dwyn clutched at his head with her free hand, her other still covering his between her legs and trying to move it more swiftly against her and with more pressure. But he resisted, keeping his movements slow and steady until she thought she would go mad in search of her release.

“Geordie,” she gasped desperately, and felt a second finger join the first, stretching her as they slid in. Releasing her breast then, he raised his head and watched her face, his expression a combination of grim determination and something softer.

“What is it, love? What do ye want?” he asked, flicking her sensitive nub with his thumb now. “Can ye tell me what ye want?”