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“I went to rescue you from the knaves who had kidnapped you. I thought you were raped or worse.”
“So ’twas your imagination which played you false,” she said, triumphant about shifting the blame that he seemed intent on placing at her doorstep.
Taking her wrists, he directed her hands downward. “You know how when your sons run off to play and get involved and don’t come home?”
“Aye…” His lower belly demanded attention, and his hips. And she could stall by drying his upper thighs, although it was difficult to accomplish without looking. If only she could concentrate on the conversation.
“You’re worried, the sun is getting low, and you imagine all kinds of dreadful things that could have happened to them.”
“Aye.” She was beginning to get his drift, and as she comprehended his words, she also comprehended his intention.
“Then they run in, dirty, scratched, without a care, and you’re so happy they’re safe you want to hug them and slap them at the same time.”
She stuck out her lower lip. He didn’t want her to dry him. He wanted her to stroke him, and mayhap, as he watched her squirm, he would get a little of his revenge.
“I rushed out and ruined my best blade on a stone for you—and you’d vanquished your captors yourself.”
A bubble of indignation rose in her. He wanted her to caress him intimately, and he insulted her at the same time? Brusquely she circled him, moving with a speed he didn’t think to counter, and began to dry his back. “Would you rather I had done nothing?”
“Nay. Oh, nay, I’m proud of you for your quick thinking.”
He sounded sincere, and she relaxed enough to swipe at his rump. First one side, then the other, both covered with those fine blond hairs. He had a rather attractive behind, with the sucked-in, muscled cheeks of a very active man.
“But while I’m proud of you, you scared me to death.”
He turned and faced her, and she once again got the shock of seeing him in all his glory. Funny how the back wasn’t nearly as threatening as the front.
“I’ll hear nothing but trouble from my men for this, and so you must pay now.”
“Pay?”
His hands closed on her shoulders, and he brought her body close against his. He was warm and yes, a little wet in spots, but his intention was quite clear.
Completely rattled, she blurted, “Are you going to hit me?”
He stared at her, and his perception went far beyond their limited acquaintance. “I don’t beat women. There are better ways to get their attention.”
She relaxed.
Then he smiled, a toothy, rapacious grin that would have been at home on a hungry predator, and she realized she had relaxed too soon.
“Aye, you’d better be worried.” He backed her over to the pallet of skins in the corner. “It could take me a very long time before I’m satisfied with my revenge.”
She was in trouble. She was in big trouble. Brightly, she asked, “Would you like to tell me the details of your last battle?”
He just kept smiling.
10
“We have them, master. Eight good-sized rogues, ripe fer hanging.”
Hugh took Wharton’s arm and moved him away from the tent and toward the fire. “Did you have any trouble?”
Wharton’s sharp cackle of mirth made the other men look as they prepared for bed. “Nay, yer lady fixed them up properly. The reavers could scarcely stand from th’ cramps in their guts.”
Looking up at the stars, Hugh decided the rewards of the marriage bed had eased his indignation, and he said proudly, “She’s a clever lass.”
“Aye, fer a lass.” Wharton dismissed her ingenuity with scorn. “It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t gone haring off like that.”
