The Beast of Clan Kincaid by Lily Blackwood

Author:Lily Blackwood
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781250084743
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Chapter 14

“If you wish,” he answered, his soul darkening.

After all, he owed no particular loyalty to the MacClaren—or to Elspeth. And Bridget was beautiful, in a different sort of way than the young woman who haunted his dreams. Perhaps he should welcome this opportunity to rid her from his mind.

She rubbed the cloth over his shoulders and across his chest, leaning forward so close that the warm mist bathed her breasts. Allowing the cloth to sink into the tub, she spread her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

“Your muscles are so hard, and tight.” Her fingers traced his tattoos, and moved down over his chest and stomach, lower with each teasing stroke. “I know how to ease your tensions.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the first stirrings of desire … but not for her.

Damn him to hell, he wanted someone else here. He wanted someone else’s hands on his skin offering him pleasure. Until he forgot Elspeth, no one else would do.

He seized Bridget’s wrist—just as her fingertips grazed his sex.

“Thank you,” he said, opening his eyes. “But that is enough.”

He heard the breath catch in her throat, and she gave a little laugh. “No one has to know.”

“I appreciate that,” he said coldly. “But I am very tired, and wish to be alone.”

She stared back at him, her eyes glassy with arousal, her lips parted in disbelief.

“Another time then?” she said hopefully.

After drying her hands on a cloth she reached for her cloak.

“Perhaps.” Truly. Perhaps. Seducing the MacClaren’s wife would be just as cruel as seducing his daughter, but tonight he had no taste for it.

He suspected he never would.

When she was gone, he left the bath and dried himself. Dropping the damp linen on a chair, he pulled on knee-length braies, rolling them at his hips. Normally he slept naked but if Bridget were to suddenly return at least his manhood would be somewhat secured.

Crossing the earthen floor, he climbed beneath the furs and stared up at the shadows dancing with the firelight on the rafters above. The fire crackled on the hearth. He laid his arm over his eyes, praying he would not only sleep, but not dream again of Elspeth.

His breathing slowed.

Until a sound came from across the room. The door, again.

Why had he not thought to secure the bar? Annoyed, he lifted up onto his elbow to look, expecting to see Bridget or possibly Deargh—

But it was Elspeth, dressed in a simple linen sheath, a plaid covering her shoulders and her hair. His heart stopped beating in his chest.

“It is true then,” she said in a whisper, her face pale.

He sat up quickly, pushing back the furs.

“What is true?” he asked, standing.

Her gaze descended over his body—his chest, abdomen, and hips—as he moved toward her. A blush rose into her cheeks—and yet her gaze accused. She even appeared to tremble.

“I saw her leave,” she blurted, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

He knew instantly what she believed … how it must look, with Bridget sneaking away from his quarters and her coming in to find him there in bed.

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