Free Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) by May McGoldrick, Nicole Cody, Jan Coffey, Nikoo McGoldrick, James McGoldrick Page B

profile, he thought: the straight nose, the full lips, the high cheekbones
that had flushed crimson at his inconsiderate words when he’d first met her in
the hunting lodge at Corgarff.
    And then she turned fully in his
direction. Athol ceased to breathe. Those eyes. How could he have forgotten
those eyes, so dark in this light, but so beautiful. She was staring at him--or
rather, at the food on the bread trencher in front of him. Come a bit closer,
he thought. Let me see the blue of those eyes.
    Catherine took a hesitant step
toward him and stopped again. She pushed her cloak back over her shoulders, and
his eyes wandered over the ample curves of her shapely body. Suddenly, his mind
became engulfed with memories of her in his bed. His hand on the silky skin of
her hip. The way she’d moaned against his lips. The perfect fit of her breast
in his palm. The way she had risen to the touch of his fingertips on her belly.
    He should have known immediately
that she wasn’t the perpetually overeager Ellen Crawford. Nay, he admitted
silently, from the first moment he’d climbed in that bed, he’d sensed something
different there. Something infinitely better. But he’d been away from Ellen for
so many months, and he’d never expected someone else to be in his bed.
Certainly not this woman. And from the moment he’d stretched out beside her,
he’d had only one thing on his mind.
    He saw her take another step
forward and her hand accidentally tipped a bowl sitting beside the ewer on the
next table. She grabbed for it swiftly, and the thing made no noise. It must
have had a few drops of ale in the bottom, for he watched her raise her hand to
her lips. Athol felt a tingling surge in his loins as her delicate tongue
licked the drops from her finger.
    Perhaps he hadn’t made such a bad
choice, after all, he thought, His eyes fixed on her, his brain conjuring
images of all that he would like to do with that mouth.
     
    *****
     
    Finally, she thought. The drops of
ale were bitter on her tongue, and Catherine moved carefully toward the next
table. It was the closest to the wall, and she could see that there was indeed
food on the trencher.
    Her eyes flicked over to the
motionless warrior slouched on the bench behind the table. He was leaning back
against the dark, paneled wall. From what she could see, he must have fallen asleep
with his supper still before him. She dared herself to take the last step that
would put her within reach. All she needed to do was take the food and run.
     She clenched her jaw, trying to
build enough courage to act. His face was hidden in the shadows--his broad
chest crossed by the same red and green tartan worn by nearly all of Athol’s
warriors.
    Her stomach made a loud,
complaining sound, and suddenly Catherine knew that her decision had been made
for her. She reached out with both hands and grabbed for the trencher.
    With an incredible speed, the
warrior’s hands shot out and clamped on her wrists. A strangled gasp of panic
escaped her lips, and Catherine found herself being tugged toward the table.
    “Stop! I...I thought you were
finished.”
    He stopped pulling her but did not
release her, and Catherine found her throat clamp shut as the face moved out of
the shadows and into the light.
    “So you’ve decided at last to leave
your self-imposed confinement and join me down here for some supper.”
    “I...” She couldn’t think straight.
His gray eyes were dark in the firelight, but she could feel them piercing her
soul.
    “I know. You didn’t want to bother
with the folk who would be naturally inquisitive about their new mistress. You
only wished for my attentions, is that right?”
    She simply could not find her
voice. The nearness of him--his hands holding her fast-- was the most
unsettling. Her face was burning, and yet there were chills running down her
spine. It was like some raging fever, but not like any fever she’d ever endured
before.
    “You locked yourself away.”
    The odd hint