Free Fraser 03 - Highland Homecoming by B. J. Scott Page B

Jayden’s trustworthy hands, and rejoin Robert. There was still time before the Bruce planned to confront the MacDougalls and MacCanns, but to stay with Lauren so near, or worse, to see her husband come for her, would be a crushing blow he did not wish to endure.
    She snuggled at his side and he watched her sleep. He’d never tire of looking at her beautiful face. She stirred and when her thigh rubbed against his rigid manhood, he stifled the urge to groan aloud and cursed beneath his breath. Being an honorable man was certainly not all it was said to be. Mayhap he was a fool after all.
    Lauren brought her hand up and covered her mouth, stifling a yawn. She opened heavy-lidded eyes and glanced around the dimly lit croft.
    Alasdair was no longer on the pallet beside her and he was not asleep on the pelt before the hearth. She sat up when she heard the unmistakable creak of the rusty hinges on the door. “Where are you going? The sun has yet tae rise.”
    “I’ve need of a swim and then I am going hunting for grouse. I’ll return this afternoon. I left a tankard of water and some oatcakes on the table beside the bed.”
    Before she could respond, the door closed. Alasdair was gone. She lay back on the pallet and brought her fingers to her lips. If she closed her eyes, she could picture his face nearing hers, just before he captured her mouth.
    His breath was sweet and tasted of fennel. Although he’d shaved, the rasp of fine stubble had grazed her chin. Her stomach gave a tug and her heart fluttered. She liked kissing him and the way it made her feel all warm and tingly inside.
    The recurring dreams about the events on the ship got more vivid and frightening each time she had one. The last nightmare had terrified her so much, she’d asked Alasdair to share her bed, a foolish act that could have had serious repercussions. Given her request and her enthusiastic response to his kiss, he might have mistaken her need for solace as an invitation to bed her.
    Would that have been so terrible?
    She had grown fond of him these last few days and found him quite attractive, despite his low opinion of himself. He’d saved her life and cared for her injuries when he could have chosen to leave her to fend for herself. From what she knew of him, he came from a respectable clan and had proved himself an honorable man by showing her nothing but respect.
    She slammed her balled fist on the pallet. She knew many things about Alasdair, but she had no memory of her own past, aside from being attacked on the ship. She was not in a position to offer herself freely to any man.
    Lauren sighed, then slid to the edge of the pallet and sat up. She’d been abed long enough. She nibbled on a dry oatcake and washed it down with a few sips of water. While she appreciated Alasdair’s culinary attempts, she’d grown tired of the same bland fare and no doubt he had as well.
    She spotted the walking stick he’d carved for her beside the pallet and snatched it up. He’d been so kind, the least she could do while he was away today was to make some bannock and mayhap some sweet rolls as a way of saying thank you.
    Using the carved shaft for support, she rose to a wobbly stance, then made her way to the hearth. She gathered the ingredients she needed from the larder and set them on the table before sitting down and getting to work.
    While her injured ankle made it difficult to move around the croft with ease, she managed quite well with the walking stick. She was getting stronger everyday. Soon she’d be able to leave. The thought of never seeing Alasdair again caused her heart to clench. But she could not risk accompanying him to Sinclair Castle.
    Alasdair might be angry when he discovered she’d left, but then again, he might be relieved. Aside from one brief, but passionate kiss, he had shown no interest in pursuing her on an intimate level. The fact that he’d not tried to take things any farther when the opportunity presented itself, along with