Page 31 of Deception of a Highlander

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Despite the stab of fire, she straightened her back to look stronger than she felt.

His jaw clenched, and he gave her a long look that indicated he was not in the mood to argue. Mariel settled on the floor and eased her back against the hard-muscled wall of his thigh. His spicy scent mingled with the humid haze of steam from the bath and lulled her into the slow, steady pulse of languid arousal.

Warm water poured over her scalp and all thoughts but those of pleasure washed from her mind. Kieran’s battle-hardened hands were gentle where they ran through her hair, working out the bits of leaves, mud, and God only knew what else. Heat radiated from his solid torso, mere inches from her face. The slightest lean forward, and she would be close enough to press her lips against the warm skin of his neck.

His nearness consumed her. She was intensely aware of every move he made, no matter how slight. Sweat prickled her palms, and the lazy pulse thrummed between her thighs as she surrendered to his tender ministrations.

Stroke after sweet stroke, he moved his hands through her tresses with such tenderness it could only be considered a caress. A bucket of water washed down her hair once more, and, with disappointment, Mariel knew he was finished.

He supported her back with his arm and helped her to her feet. His black eyes fixed on her with a look that made heat pool low in her stomach. His hands lingered against her lower back longer than was necessary. The sun had set, and candlelight cast a flickering golden glow against his face. Jagged shadows etched across the sharp edge of his jawline and cheekbones. He looked fierce, darkly handsome—almost dangerous.

Droplets of water snaked down her back, and yet she barely noticed. Having him wash her hair had been a strangely intimate act. An act whose poignancy she knew was not lost on him either.

A gentle rap on the door shattered the unspoken connection between them. Kieran turned away from her with a look of regret lining his face.

Her senses came hurtling back. What was it about him that made her lose her wits? Was it his powerful presence? His handsome, rugged features? His size?

A shiver wound down her spine. No. It was the way he looked at her. The way she responded to him, and the way she melted under his touch.

Her hand balled into a fist to shove away her feelings. She was there to gather his secrets. She was there to save Jack. No matter how badly she wanted Kieran or how significant he made her feel, she needed to do this. For Jack. And for Kieran.

Jane’s warning echoed in the back of Mariel’s mind. It was a nagging burr that had been lodged there since it’d been uttered. “He’s going to die after this is over, whether by your blade or by that of another.”

If what Jane said was true, then why would Aaron give Mariel the option? Her thoughts were a haze of fog and pain.

Kieran returned, carrying a small mug of steaming brown liquid. “This posset came from the healer. She said to drink it tonight to ensure ye get good rest before we press on tomorrow.” He eyed her for a moment before adding, “If ye feel like continuing with the journey. If ye need another day or two for recovery, we can always—”

“No,” she replied quickly. “I’ll be fine. We need not delay on my behalf.” The sooner they arrived in Skye, the sooner she could begin her discreet search for Blair and Dougal Hampton. The sooner she could be free of the heat of his stare and the overwhelming guilt that inevitably followed.

She reached for the cup and paused. Aaron had praised her determination in the past. Countless times. She had always been the sort who focused on the prize and did not stop until she attained it. And he knew that.

Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.

Aaron had given her the option because he knew she would do whatever was necessary to get the information rather than kill.

She gripped the scalding mug with her fingertips and gave a murmured thanks before settling in front of the fire.

The flames licked against one another, prancing with rapacious speed over the crisscrossed logs. If she was right and Aaron had given her the option to ensure success, he was indeed crafty. Fortunately, she was crafty too.

Mariel set the posset aside to cool to a drinkable temperature while she combed the snarls from her hair carefully lest she injure herself again.

Aaron was right, not only about her determination, but also her uncanny ability to gain trust. She would earn Kieran’s trust and find the location of the Hamptons as she’d been instructed. But once Jack was safe, she would go back for Kieran before Aaron’s assassins could ever lay claim on him.

She could save them all. Couldn’t she?

A quick dip of her finger into the brown tea confirmed it would not scald her. She held the rim of the cup to her lips and inhaled the musty scent before tilting the liquid into her mouth. Bitterness washed over her tongue and clung to the back of her throat with such potency she could not stop the unladylike gag that followed. Perhaps only one sip would be enough.

Kieran was unsympathetic to her plight. “I dinna care what it tastes like, Mariel. Ye need to drink all of it so ye can be well-rested. That wound will pain ye tonight otherwise.”

Mariel whirled around with a sharp reply on her tongue and stifled a gasp. Kieran’s naked back faced her from where he stood beside the tub. His kilt was still belted around his narrow hips but would not be for long as his hands were tugging the belt free.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she turned away lest he catch her staring at him. She brought the cup to her lips, hoping to ease the sudden dryness of her mouth. Holding her nose as she had done as a child, she drank the remainder of the tea. She wished it would be worth the effort.

From the safety of the silky curtain of her hair, she peered through to where he stood. His back was still toward her, but that didn’t mean there was nothing to see. Good Lord, the man was glorious.

Broad, powerful shoulders framed the strength of his back and the seductive play of shadows along the tantalizing plane. Smooth skin stretched taut over well-honed muscle from years of battle and practice with the sword. Indulgent, Mariel let her gaze slide lower, past his tapered waist to the enticing curve of his buttocks. Heat flooded her cheeks at her brazen observation, but it did not stop her as she shifted her eyes lower still to take in his long, sculpted legs from the bulging thighs to where his finely wrought calves disappeared into the glassy surface of the bath.

She was just about to turn away when he lifted a bucket overhead and let the water run down his shoulders. Droplets clung to his naked back and trembled as each subtle movement sent the muscles along his back rippling. A single bead rolled along the length of his spine and glided down the strong lines of his body. Mariel moistened her lips and watched its sensual descent, overwhelmed with the temptation to trace its path with the tip of her tongue.