Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“What matters?” she asked curious to know if these matters actually concerned his soon-to-be-wife.
“Orders from the King that required his immediate attention.”
Relief tugged at her heart. She was happy her brother had found love, though worried that she did not matter to him anymore. He was all she had after their mum had died. He had always been a good and loving brother and had taught her many things. Thanks to him she could swim, fish—clean and cook the catch herself—and handle a dagger. She had wonderful memories of hot summer days spent with Cree either fishing or swimming, after chores had been done. He had even proclaimed her a better fisherman than he was.
Another tug caught her heart. She had missed her brother very much and was eager to see him.
She startled when Torr gently tapped the tip of her nose and asked, “Lost in thought again?
“Memories this time.”
“Good ones?”
She smiled and nodded. “Very good. Cree always treated me well.”
“Then there isn’t any reason to think that he would do otherwise now, is there?”
He was right. There wasn’t any reason to think that Cree would deny her happiness with the man she loved. He wanted her happy; he had told her that many times. And Cree was a man of his word.
She sighed. “You are right.”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. She may have agreed a bit grudgingly, but nonetheless she had agreed. Could she actually be a woman who saw reason? His smile grew. Stubborn and reasonable? Now that was a strange combination for a woman.
“I am glad you agree. It will make our journey home that less difficult,” he said.
“And the sooner we get there the better.” She tucked the blanket around her as best she could and struggled to get to her feet.
Torr’s hand was at her arm in an instant to help her and once she was steady, and the blanket tucked more firmly, he let her go.
Wintra went over to the chair that held her clothes and felt them. She turned to Torr. “They are dry, except for the hem, but I can sit by the fire once I am dressed and let it finish drying. Turn around,” she said with a twirl of her finger at him.
Another smile he could not hide surfaced. “I have seen all of you already. What difference does it make?”
“That could not be helped. This can. Now be a gentleman and turn around.”
“Yes, Princess,” he said with a gallant bow before turning his back to her, “though if you need any help…”
She gave up on telling him not to call her Princess. Besides, it was beginning to sound more an endearment than an insult.
“I will do just fine,” she assured him, then took a look at her torn grey wool dress.
She slipped it on relishing the warmth, though not for long since she realized after fussing with it that the tear down the middle had rendered it useless. “Now what?” she said aloud without realizing it.
Torr turned, and she grabbed the ripped wool to hold it closed as he approached her.
“The tunic will cover it,” Torr said, and shook his head, “though the dress will remain open beneath and will not keep you warm enough.”
He rubbed his chin, thinking and admiring the bulge of her breasts where her hands gripped the material closed. He couldn’t help but recall the feel of them and gave his head a quick shake. That was not something he needed to be thinking about right now, especially since it was beginning to grow him hard.
“A plaid,” he said with relief. “We’ll wrap one of the plaids around your midsection and with your tunic over it that should serve to keep you sufficiently warm.”
With the fire behind her and Torr in front of her, she was presently more than sufficiently warm. It seemed all he had to do was stand close to her and her body got hot and tingly. And worst of all, she was beginning to like the tingles, look forward to them, and grow ever more curious about them. Could the sensation really be as wicked as the nuns had warned about?
“That is a dangerous way to look at me,” he whispered harshly, his face close to hers.
“What way?” she asked, not realizing she was looking any particular way at him.
“As if you want to devour me.”
“I do,” she thought, though she heard the words all too clearly and realized she had said them aloud.
“Your choice, Princess,” he said and lowered his lips to hers.
She did not think about it. She met his lips and the tingles running through her sparked a burst that consumed her entire body and kept her lips hungry on his.
Virginal, eager, excited. That was how she kissed him and damn if it wasn’t the most delicious kiss he had ever tasted. He let her have her way, though he guided until his patience, or more so their need, grew too great, and then he took control. He slipped his hand down along her back to cup her backside and press her against him. He then urged her up against his hard arousal as his tongue penetrated her mouth and kissed her senseless.