Bold (The Handfasting) - By Becca St. John Page 0,43

grew more wary by the day. He wasn’t quite sure how to breach that divide.

Aye, Diedre was right, he was frustrated as a mad bull. He’d nearly broken when she bathed in this very afternoon, with him not ten feet away, back turned. No easy thing to do. Sounds, the rustle of clothes as she undressed, the catch of her breath from the frigid water enticed. All it took was one splash and his mind reeled with images; rivulets caressing where his hands had, and hadn't been. Droplets taking a lazy journey between high firm breasts with nipples puckered from the cold. He knew the curve of that breast, the weight of it.

But the water would go further than he had advanced. It would trail down across her body to pool in her navel, just waiting for him to dip his head, lave and sip. Sparkling beads would be caught in curls at the apex of her thighs. His fingers would weave past them to dip into the heat of Maggie's own moistness.

Soon, they would dance that dance. When he had her to himself. Alone, so his hand could roam as free as the water. His lips would travel the same path and his heat would find the source of hers.

But not tonight. Not until they reached Glen Toric. Not until they had a place to bed without fifty men surrounding them. And not until she had learned that the love of her body was the love of her heart.

He had an idea, was waiting for just the right moment, needed her trust to move into action. That was why he stood back as fifty men, blustered and blushed with the sound of her voice.

It could not have been easy for her brothers to keep suitors away. To do so proved a disservice. Maggie saw all men as extensions of her family, like brothers. So much so, he was amazed she had not tied him with that same rope. Then again, he knew how singular their attraction was.

Thomas leaned over her, his smile as wide as his face could stretch, and said something. She chuckled, a tease of sound that rode the breeze and trailed across Talorc’s shoulders like a lover’s caress.

She swatted at Thomas and shooed him away, then swung her head, so her hair waved back and forth before the heat. There was no provocative intent in what she did. She was too busy prattling on about nonsense, totally unaware that as her neck arced, so did her back and with her back bowed the roundness of her figure stood out in stark relief. A rich, lush, virginal offering.

Blood rushed through his body. She was a heady temptation, blocking out the rest of the world, in the midst of a warrior’s camp.

They were not alone. He must not forget, they were not alone.

His gaze snapped to his men. Wide-eyed and slack jawed they stared, as unable to move as he had been. He cursed.

“Maggie.” As expected, she shot straight with the sound of his voice, her eyes wary, for she was coming to be cautious of him and of what they shared. As abruptly as she sat up, his men moved away, released from the spell she cast.

That was as alone as they would be tonight.

When he neither moved nor spoke, Maggie shrugged her shoulders, reached back to braid thick strands of auburn tresses. "How much further to Glen Toric?" She asked.

He stayed where he was, didn't move closer, though he couldn't have said why. "Another day, a short one. We should be there before dark."

Four days they’d been riding when the entire journey only took two. He slowed the pace for Maggie.

“You’ve had bad dreams?”

Every bit of her went still. “Why would you say that?”

Unable to sleep, he had watched her of a night, close to the fire. Only Maggie had not slept, not properly, she tossed and turned and called out.

“Ian. You asked for Ian.”

“Did I?” She studied the ground beneath her feet.

“My guess is he responds, for you settle.”

A blush crept up as she shook her head. “I don’t remember.” She looked about, as though to bring the dreams back, then looked at him. “Did I really?”

“You settled.” And was pleased to see her smile.

“Come,” he was close now. “There are fish in the stream, just beyond the trees, over there,” he pointed. “waiting for a tickle.”

“Are there?” Her smile turned playful. “You want me to show you how it’s done?”

She was teasing him. This