This, this, she thought, and then he was inside her, pushing upward. In that instant, it seemed Lennox could erase the past, her terrible mistake with Slater.
But then, he hesitated. Nora’s heart seemed to stop as well, and she heard him murmur, “I do not want to hurt ye.”
Of course. He thinks I am a virgin. She shook her head, eyes stinging. “I want this.”
Lennox kissed her then, cradling her hips as he filled her completely, and the sensation was achingly satisfying. Nora tentatively lifted up to meet his thrusts, finding his rhythm, her soft moans mingling with the hoots of owls from the dark woods.
As they mated, the world seemed to spin away. All that remained was their mutual need and a white-hot bliss that needed no words.
* * *
Lennox held Nora in the moonlight, drawing the rough blanket more closely around them both. The scent of their mating was still in his nostrils, like an aphrodisiac. Just the thought of how it had been between them made him hard again, lusting for her. His eyes lingered on her sleeping face. The smudge of lashes on her cheek, her slightly parted lips, the faint crease in her brow…
What was she dreaming? Did she regret tonight?
He still didn’t know why Nora had to flee the life she shared with her father at Stirling Castle. She’d left behind all her grand dreams of becoming the first female master weaver. What had she meant when she said William Brodie might be the one to threaten her in the future? Gently, Lennox brushed back her cloud of curls. He wanted to whisper, “What is your secret, lass? Ye can trust me with it.”
But instead he closed his eyes. The journey to the Isle of Mull would not be an easy one, and he needed to sleep. The last thing he thought of before drifting off was the way Nora had gazed up at him just before he’d kissed her sweet mouth.
Minutes passed. Chaucer made a snuffling sound in his sleep. There was a soft rustling sound in the woods, followed by the quick cry of an animal that had become prey.
Nora cautiously opened her eyes. How long had she lain awake? All night, it seemed. Yet, even when she’d sensed that Lennox was awake, Nora had pretended to sleep. Thoughts raced in her mind. The familiar feeling of shame was back, but this time for the way she had behaved with Lennox. In the moment, it had all felt right, but now she saw the entire episode in a different light. Dear God, what must he think of her?
Her head hurt as if she had drunk too much wine, yet Nora knew that was not the cause of this sick feeling. How handsome his face was in repose! She wanted to nestle against his broad chest, to drink in the arousing scent of him, to touch his wondrous body again.
Yet she could not. It had been a terrible mistake. When Nora remembered the babe who grew deep inside her, she felt ill. Then a memory came: Grant telling her the story of his mother’s friend, with child by a lover who disappeared. The friend found a respectable man and, once they had lain together, told him the babe was his.
Lennox and Nora had already exchanged vows. According to Highland tradition, they were wed. If she told him, at a later time, that she had conceived a child tonight, he would believe her. He would do the right thing, no matter what.
Never! Nora scolded herself, ashamed for even having so wicked a thought. She would tell him the truth. All of it, no matter how painful!
Tomorrow…
* * *
When Nora next opened her eyes, dawn was breaking. Warm, strong arms enfolded her, and she felt the hard curve of Lennox’s cheekbone against her temple.
“Ah, she stirs,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “Ye made such a pretty sight, I didn’t have the heart to disturb ye.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Is it late?”
“Nay, but Chaucer has gone off on his own to find some breakfast among the woodland grasses, and we have a long way to travel today. As much as I would like to stay right here with ye, we should rise.”
Yet he gathered her closer still and she felt him sigh.
“Nora, I need to tell ye I fear I took advantage of ye last night. If ye have regrets, we will never speak of it again.”
She wanted to weep. “I do