Page 22

OFFERING TO TAKE Rose home had seemed a gallant idea at the time.

However, as he urged Iver’s stallion into a trot, Kerr began to doubt the wisdom of his chivalry. Indeed, the moment she’d settled onto the saddle in front of him, her plump, firm rear nestling against his groin, he’d made a silent prayer to the Virgin to keep his rod from stiffening.

Her body was warm and soft against his. That sweet yet fresh scent that was uniquely hers filled his nostrils now, and her soft hair tickled his nose.

It was torture sitting with her like this—yet one he welcomed.

Kerr inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the friction of Rose’s backside against his groin as they settled into a trot and then a smoother canter.

He’d enjoyed Rose’s company over the past couple of hours. It had been difficult to look away from her in the tavern. And for a short while, she’d distracted him from the thoughts of reckoning that plagued him day and night.

But even the warmth of her body pressed up against his couldn’t dampen the rage completely.

It was still there, pulsing like a stoked ember.

There had been times over the past three weeks when he’d wanted to explode. He hated that he needed to recover from his wounds and that the king’s men had been called upon to assist in hunting The Wolves.

With each passing day, tension coiled tighter in his gut.

Kerr’s mouth thinned, heat igniting under his ribcage. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

They cantered out of Ceann Locha, following the road north along the coast for a spell. Kerr then turned inland, taking the less traveled way that cut south of Dun Ugadale and would bring them to the Red Deer Hills.

Above, the sky clouded over, and spots of rain blew in with the wind. Rose kept glancing up as they traveled. It wouldn’t be long before the heavens opened. Fortunately, they were riding through woodland now and could take shelter if necessary.

Kerr said little as they rode. For a while, Rose welcomed the silence. Eventually though, she murmured, “Ye have gone very quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“Ye aren’t brooding, are ye?”

Kerr snorted. “About what?”

“About The Black Wolves and how ye are going to make them pay.”

“And I will.” His voice took on a flinty edge.

“I know,” she replied gently. “But be careful, Kerr.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” he assured her.

Rose frowned. Curse men and their bullishness. Kerr had clearly forgotten how close he’d come to dying in that glade. “I wasn’t talking about ye fighting the outlaws,” she said crisply, “but about yer anger . I’ve seen what it does to people.”

“I need this rage, Rose.” Kerr’s voice sharpened. “It’s keeping me going.”

“Aye … that’s what worries me.”

A pause followed, and when Kerr answered, his tone had softened. “I didn’t realize ye worried about me, lass.”

Rose snorted, even as warmth flooded through her. “Don’t go getting all conceited about it,” she muttered.

“But ye do worry?”

“Only because I’d hate to see a good man destroy himself,” she shot back.

Water splattered across her face then. The rain began gently, although within moments, it thundered down.

Kerr turned his horse off the road and under the shelter of an alder.

Relieved, both to get out of the rain and to end the frustrating exchange between them, Rose threw her leg over the pommel and jumped down from the saddle. Likewise, Kerr dismounted, and they huddled against the trunk of the tree as the rain pelted down around them.

Standing close to Kerr, Rose kept her gaze downcast. She felt embarrassed now, as if she’d said too much and risked being mocked for it.

However, Kerr didn’t tease her.

Moments passed, and then he murmured. “Rose … please look at me.”

Swallowing, she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. He was staring down at her, his blue eyes burning.

Rose’s pulse started hammering in her ears. Mother Mary save her, she wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. Her legs suddenly felt shaky and her skin feverish, as if she were ailing.

Kerr lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “Yer concerns are noted.”

Rose swallowed. “Good,” she said weakly. She wished her breathing wasn’t so ragged, or that she wasn’t so acutely aware of him. It felt as if she were melting on the inside.

And the feel of his fingertips lightly tracing her cheek didn’t help. Not at all.

To her chagrin, she leaned into his touch, craving more.

He caressed her cheek and the line of her jaw before sliding to her neck, pushing the curtain of her hair aside so he could touch her there. “Ye have skin like milk,” he whispered. “And as soft as a rose petal.”

Rose made a choked noise in the back of her throat, her lips parting as hunger twisted within her belly. If he kept touching her like this, she’d dissolve into a puddle at his feet.

A heartbeat passed, and then another, before his fingers cupped the back of her neck, and he drew her closer. Kerr lowered his head then, his lips brushing across hers. It was tentative, a question. He wanted to know if she’d welcome his kiss.

A sigh escaped Rose as she raised her face to his. Aye, she did.

His mouth met hers again, firmer now, a sensual discovery. An instant later, his tongue flicked along her lower lip.

Rose gasped, her lips parting to admit him, and then suddenly she was in his arms, crushed hard against his chest, and he was kissing her fiercely.

She was drowning in the taste and feel of him, willingly, helplessly. Her hands went up, sliding around his neck as she gave herself to the embrace. Her tongue slid against his, shyly exploring his mouth.

Rose had never kissed anyone like this. Aye, she’d had a few fumbles with lads at fire festivals, yet she’d found most of them invasive and had been relieved when she’d been able to disentangle herself and make an excuse to go home.

But she didn’t want this kiss to ever end.

The feel of his strong body pressed flush with hers, the iron bar of his desire against her belly, made lust pulse inside her. He’d set her on fire, and she wanted to burn.

However, as the kiss drew out, and his hands slid down from her shoulders, exploring the curve of her back before possessively cupping her buttocks, anxiety bubbled up, intruding on the haze of desire that had wrapped itself around her.

As delicious as this was, they were both on the brink of forgetting themselves.

Part of her—a reckless part she’d never known existed—wanted him to push her back against the tree trunk, lift her skirts, and take her there under the drumming rain. Aye, that wicked side to her craved it.

But things were moving too fast.

Today had healed the rift between them, yet she was afraid to go any further. Rose had never given herself to anyone. The unknown scared her. She unlocked her arms from around his neck and slid her hands down to his chest.

“I think we should stop now,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Aye, lass,” Kerr sighed. His hands lifted then, resting upon her shoulders as he slowly drew back. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

Rose met his eye, her breath catching at the need that smoldered there. “We both did,” she murmured.

He smiled then, and he lifted a hand, cupping her cheek gently. “I didn’t frighten ye, did I?”

She bit down upon her lower lip, noting how his gaze dropped to her mouth, before shaking her head. “No … I think I just scared myself.”

His expression grew serious then. “We can go slowly, Rose. I’d never rush ye.”

Pressure built in her chest at these words. Suddenly, she felt as if she could weep. His gentleness almost undid her.

“I know ye wouldn’t,” she whispered huskily.

His blue eyes gleamed as he gazed down at her. “So … may I woo ye then?”

The vulnerability in his voice made her throat constrict, and her vision blurred as she nodded.