Page 33 of A Promise of Love

T he slut was in Scotland .

The smile he wore was not one of humor, a fact more than a few members of his regiment had discerned over the last year. When Bennett Henderson had that expression on his face, it did not mean he was in charity with the world .

How utterly perfect that she was here. And how like her to have found a protector.

She was a survivor, he had to give her that.

It was that very quality which had made mounting her such delicious enjoyment.

All those nights, when she’d fought him, it had made the pleasure that much greater.

To know that he’d mastered her, conquered her, beaten her, wiped the rage from her eyes and replaced it with fear, ah, it almost made him laugh .

She was growing brave again .

He would leave her alone, then, until she thought herself safe.

Until she began to believe that a Scot could protect her from him.

Until she began to think he planned no retribution, no vengeance for her act.

Only then, when she’d become hopeful, when her tenseness melted to relaxation and her fears to laughter, would he visit her again .

Perhaps then, he would introduce his group into a different pleasure, show them what treasure these barren hills and misty glens could hide .

Until then, he ached for another woman, one who could keep him satisfied until he saw Judith again. A temporary replacement, that was all, to assuage his body while his mind fed on the anticipation of it all .

Judith .

He could hardly wait .