Page 70 of Moon Craving

believe it. "Thank you."

She had to blink back tears. No one but Emily had ever been so concerned for

Abigail's comfort.

He looked around the cavern with satisfaction. "'Tis a suitable place for a Chrechte

mating."

"Mating?" Oh, he meant joining their bodies. Heat crawled along her skin as

images assaulted her mind from the discussion they had had back at the MacDonald

holding.

For some reason, he looked chagrined by his own choice of words. "I simply meant

the marriage claiming."

She nodded, having no desire to argue, even if she saw nothing simple about the

physical consummation of their marriage. Though he looked as if he expected her to.

He indicated the pool. "You will bathe now."

"In front of you?" She'd learned already he had a much different sense of modesty

than she did--and Heaven help her, he seemed to expect her to adjust to his. But did he

really expect her to bathe in front of him?

"Is that how it is done in your clan? Your men and women bathe together?" she

asked, scandalized to her core.

"I did not offer to bathe with you, but if that is your preference, I will indulge you."

Before she could get the horrified no out of her tightly constricted throat, he had

shed his plaid.

She stared in mute shock as he disrobed right there in front of her, as he had the

past two nights in the privacy of their tent-- at night.

"It's only midday. Surely you do not plan to accomplish the bedding right now?"

Had she thought him considerate? He was worse than the goat her sister had called him

. . . He was a randy goat with no sense of decorum or modesty. Or . . . or . . . or anything

else.

"It is time."

"No . . . no . . . we should wait until to night. You said I could wash, with soap."

"I will wash you." He closed the distance between them before she realized he was