Page 42 of The Warrior
“Mmmm,” she whimpered when he put the wrapped stone next to her swollen feet.
Moira fell asleep to the soft splashing of water. When she awoke, Duncan sat on the edge of the bed wearing nothing except the towel wrapped around his waist. His wet hair was slicked back from his handsome face, and the muscles in his arms and shoulders were impressive.
Duncan eased one of her arms out from under the blankets and began rubbing Caitlin’s salve over it. As he worked the salve in, warmth spread through the muscles of her arm, and the fragrance of honey and heather filled the room.
Duncan glanced up and met her eyes. “Am I hurting ye?”
Moira shook her head a fraction. How did a man who looked every inch the powerful warrior have such gentle hands?
She watched, mesmerized, as Duncan massaged each of her fingers and then her palm. She stifled a sigh as he slowly worked his way up her arm, soothing every ache with the magic in his hands.
Moira had never thought she would enjoy having a man touch her again. What was even more surprising was that she longed to touch him. She imagined running her hands over his broad chest and how the rough hair and hard muscles would feel beneath her palms.
She dropped her gaze to his hard-muscled belly. When she saw his shaft pushing up against the towel, she did not feel the usual surge of panic and disgust. Far from it. She wanted to remove the towel.
When Duncan tucked the arm he had been working on under the blankets and reached for the other, Moira lifted it out for him. She held his gaze as he massaged her fingers, one by one. Her breasts ached and her breathing grew shallow as he slowly worked his way from her wrist to her shoulder. She wanted to drown in the longing in Duncan’s eyes, to feel all the things he used to make her feel.
Before she could stop herself, she lifted her hand to his cheek. It was wrong to mislead him, wrong to let him believe she was a whole woman who could give him all he wanted. But she wanted badly to be whole again.
She had built so many layers between herself and her body to survive the years with Sean. Bedding Duncan MacDonald would be altogether different. He was the only man who had ever given her pleasure, and she desperately wanted him to awaken her body from its dead sleep.
But could she give herself to him without losing her heart again?
“I’ve watched ye mulling it over,” Duncan said in a rough voice that reverberated somewhere low in her belly. “Which is it, Moira? Aye or nay?”
* * *
Duncan waited for her answer, wanting her so much his hands were shaking. But, God help him, he would not plead with her.
“’Tis a simple question,” he said. “Either ye want me or ye don’t.”
“Will ye hold me?”
He groaned. Must she make it so difficult for him? She’d had a rough time, and if she wanted comfort, he should give it to her. He drew in a deep breath, lay down on top of the bedclothes, and enfolded her in his arms. When she leaned into him, all her soft curves pressing against him, he buried his face into her neck and breathed in her scent.
“Your skin smells just the same,” he murmured.
When Moira put her arms around his neck, he decided that served as an aye and kissed her. He did it slowly and deeply, savoring the taste of her. Her breasts, soft and full, pressed against his chest as their tongues moved together in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. On top of the bedclothes, he ran his hand up over her hip, down the dip of her waist, and up her side until he felt the swell of the side of her breast. He needed more.
He eased the bedclothes out from between them and groaned with pleasure as he pulled her against him. Skin to skin, at last. His shaft throbbed against her belly, and she was making those erotic little sounds that had always driven him wild with lust. Duncan reached between them, his fingers seeking her damp heat.
“No! I can’t do this.” Moira struggled to sit up, but Duncan held her fast in his arms. She let her head fall back and said, “I’m sorry, I thought I could.”
“What do ye mean ye can’t?” Duncan asked, keeping his voice low and calm.
“I want to,” she said. “But I just can’t.”
Duncan brushed a strand of wet hair back from her face. “Tell me why.”
Moira squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Duncan waited, and finally she said, “Sean ruined this for me. I…”
The bastard. Duncan finally understood. He took her hand. “But ye do want to?”
“I don’t know,” she said, turning her face away from him. “I do, but…I’m afraid.”
Could he do this for her? Was he strong enough to give her this and then lose her again? To show her the pleasure of being with a man only to have her go off and marry someone else again?
Ha, who am I fooling?If Moira gave him the chance to touch her, to be with her, he would take it no matter what hell came after.
