Page 22 of Taken By the Highland Villain
His gut clenched, heat pooling low in his groin, and he had to clench his fists tight to prevent an embarrassing reaction. His voice was a low, throaty growl that he scarcely recognized when he responded. “Best ye dinnae find out, lass.”
For a moment, he thought she would press him further, but she seemed to sense his mood. Her emerald-green eyes darkened, filled with heat that mirrored his own.
Without a word, she stepped back and took her seat at the table. “As ye will.”
The two of them ate their morning meal in silence.
Jude found himself watching her, his mind churning with thoughts he dared not voice, to the point where he almost wished she would return to her usual talkative self. At least, if Valerie had filled the air with her thoughts and contemplations, he would not have been so keenly aware of the inappropriate path his own were taking.
She’s a seamstress, here only to make clothes and mend some of the tapestries and curtains and the like. She’ll be here for a few days, and then she’ll leave—off to her future husband, most likely, or back to her family.
I shouldnae… I cannae get attached to her. I already ken what it’s like to risk carin’ for another. I’ll nae fall into that trap again. Especially nae when I ken she isnae here to stay.
However, reminding himself of his vows and decisions did nothing to stop the way his heart skipped when she finished her meal, rose, and grabbed his hand to drag him away from the table. “Come here.”
Jude stumbled over to where she directed him, too startled at being manhandled to object or resist. “What are ye…?”
“I said I needed to take yer measurements, did I nae?” Valerie looked up at him, her eyes shining with a blend of amusement and exasperation that made heat curl through his gut once again. “I need ye to stand by the windows where the light is the best.”
Jude scowled, but he let her lead him over to a spot in front of the windows. The warmth and strength of her smaller, callused hand lingered, and he resolutely ignored the sensation as he watched her pull a knotted cord out of her apron, then take the stopper out of an inkpot and set it next to a clean piece of paper, along with a charcoal stub.
“What are ye…?”
“I have to mark yer measurements in some manner.” Valerie grinned at him. “Dinnae fret. It doesnae hurt.”
“I’m nae fretting.” Jude glowered at her.
“Aye, I ken. Now, I need ye to stand up, as tall as ye can. Back straight, shoulders up, knees locked if ye can.”
Jude growled. “Of course I can.”
Valerie scoffed. “Dinnae take it personally. Nae all of my clients could, ye ken.”
Of course.
Jude grimaced. He hadn’t meant to become defensive. She had been so confident of being able to attend to his needs—of course, it was likely she’d served others who were less than completely whole.
He did as she asked, and watched as she stepped on the end of the cord and raised it to his shoulder, before making a mark on it with the ink and a note on a piece of paper she took from his desk.
“Now, hold yer arms straight out from yer sides.”
Jude did as she instructed. He could guess what she was doing, but even so, the feel of her fingers gliding lightly across the back of his wrist, the length of his arm, across his shoulders and his spine, then down the length of his other arm… it made him grit his teeth.
Her every touch made his skin tingle, his blood heating as though she was tracing the lines with soft-glowing coals, rather than her hands.
She stepped away to make more notes and then came back. “Can ye remove yer shirt for me?”
Jude frowned. “What?”
“I need measurements that I cannae get with yer clothin’ on—what did ye think I meant?” She shot him an exasperated look. “If ye’re too shy….”
Jude scoffed and took off his shirt with a few quick movements. “Nothing of the sort.”
He was gratified to see a delicate flush rise to her cheeks as she studied his bare chest.
“Ye have a fair amount of muscle.”
“Did ye think I wouldnae?” It was Jude’s turn to raise an inquisitive eyebrow. Valerie’s flush deepened.