The Chase (20 page)

Blake blinked in surprise at the gruff demand. She had changed in the measure of a
heartbeat. Gone was the wide-eyed look of terror. The woman facing him now was all grim
determination. She was still pale, though, and had yet to unclench her hands, he noted, so
he decided this must be bravado.

Forcing himself to relaxit wouldn't help her relax if he remained tenseBlake moved
forward, his gaze moving around the chamber as he tried to decide how to proceed. He had
no intention of walking over and “getting it done” as she so charmingly put it. He had no
wish to hurt her, though he knew he probably would her first time. But Blake was used to
seducing women, not

“The bed is this way.”

His head whipped around at her sarcastic words and he frowned at her slightly.

“Come on, come on, let's get this done,” she insisted, tossing the linens aside to reveal
the rest of the sleeping gown she wore.

“Seonaid,” he said calmly, “I have no intention of justDo you want a drink?” he
interrupted himself to ask when she started to grow even more tense.

His bride let her breath out on a loud sigh of relief. “Aye. And lots of it. I didna think
to drink until I was up here and 'twas too late. I wasna thinkin', I guess.”

She got out of bed as she spoke and stomped past him to the door. Blake inhaled her scent
as she passed. They had not just bathed her, they had powdered her too, and the sweet
scent of flowers wafted off her as she moved by him. Oddly enough, Blake found himself a
tad disappointed. Every woman he had seduced had smelled similar to this. Powdered,
perfumed, and sweet. Seonaid was none of those things by nature. Usually she smelled of
fresh air and the woods, with a muskiness added that was her own scent. He rather
preferred that, though he wouldn't tell her so, he thought, then grinned with amusement as
Seonaid opened the door he'd just closed and bellowed into the hallway.

Seonaid slammed the door, took a deep breath, then turned to survey Blake. He was watching
her with an odd grin on his face. It made her glance down at the gown she wore and grimace
at the sight of it. She had never worn anything so delicate and feminine in her life and
felt odd wearing it now.

“Lady Wildwood dug it up and insisted I wear it,” she explained, resisting the urge to
cross her arms over her chest to cover herself. She didn't know why she wanted tohe'd seen
her naked when she was battling by the loch that day they were attacked. Still, this
seemed different. She felt different. Seonaid was usually confident and sure of herself
and what she was doing; but then, she usuallyknew what she was doing. At the moment she
felt slightly out of her depth. And she didn't like it.

Grimacing, she stomped over to the chairs by the fireplace and dropped into one, then
watched him and waited to see what he would do next. For a moment he didn't do anything;
then his gaze dropped to the tub still sitting in the middle of the room, and he walked
over to dip one hand in to test the temperature. Seonaid knew it would still be hot. It
had been scalding when she had taken her bath, and that had only been moments ago.

Seeming satisfied by the temperature, Blake began to undress, and Seonaid curled her legs
beneath her on the chair and settled in to watch. She wasn't the least embarrassed to do
so. Well, perhaps she would have been had he made a fuss of it, but Blake ignored her and
simply set about his business. The plaid went first, and she hid a smile at the way his
nose wrinkled as he removed the item.

Duncan had told her with much amusement that Blake had heard, and obviously believed, the
tale that Scots wore their colors. He'd traded their father a fine gold doublet and braies
for his plaid. They had all had a good laugh about that, for it wasn't true. Every clan
had friends, and every clan had enemies. Only a fool would walk around wearing something
that proclaimed your allegiances. It could see you dead. Perhaps one day there would be
peace and they could do so, but for now they did not. If their clan all happened to wear
the same design of plaid at the moment, it was because that was the design that Cailean
Cummins had had colors for and had made. He usually did a great batch of one design, until
the colors ran out, then did a different design for another great batch of cloth. But that
did not make them their clan design.

She would have to tell him that some day, Seonaid thought. She didn't want a husband who
was ignorant of such things and so easily made a fool of.

She forgot all about this concern as Blake next removed his tunic. Seonaid almost sighed
aloud at the sight. The man was definitely well built and a pleasure to look upon. Except
for the thing between his legs. She tried not to look at that monstrosity. It would just
make her think about what was coming and the pain and blood Lady Wildwood had warned her
about. Seonaid didn't want to think about that just yet, so she avoided peering below his
waist at first and concentrated her attention on his chest and arms. He had a lovely
chest, she thought, and had the oddest desire to touch it, just to rub her hands over the
wide expanse and

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and Seonaid uncurled herself from the chair
and moved to the door to answer it. It was a servant with the whiskey she'd yelled for.
But it wasn't whiskey. It was wine, Seonaid saw, and frowned with irritation. “I yelled
foruisgebeatha , Janna. What”

“There is none at the moment,” Janna said apologetically. “Lady Iliana used it all to hold
off Greenweld when he attacked. She had them drop barrels of it off the wall onto the
mangonel, then had the men shoot flamin' arrows at it to set it alight.”

“Oh.” Seonaid's eyebrows rose. “That was clever.”

“Aye. She did us proud.” Janna grinned, then asked, “Is there anything else ye'd like?”

“Nay. Thank ye.” Seonaid offered a smile, then closed the door and turned in time to see
Blake stepping into the tub. She stared at his behind with fascination as he moved and
thought once again that it was the finest she had ever seen. Maybe she'd get to touch it
later. She was curious to know if it felt as hard as it looked.

“May I have a glass?”

Blake's voice shook her out of her fascination and Seonaid started to move again. She set
down on a chest the tray Janna had brought holding the mugs and wine and poured some for
him, then some for herself, before carrying both over to the tub.

This afforded her a close view of his chest, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from
whistling between her teeth with appreciation at the sight. If nothing else, she had
herself a pretty husband, one it would be a pleasure to look at for years to come.

“Thank you,” Blake murmured as he took the wine she offered. “Could you scrub my back?”

Seonaid hesitated. Her first instinct was to tell him to wash his own bloody back. She
wasn't a servant. But then she realized she would get to touch all those corded, rippling
muscles, and she moved around to kneel on the floor at the back of the tub. She set her
drink on the floor, accepted the bit of linen scrap that had been brought up to wash with,
and rubbed it over the soap, then paused with amusement. It was the flower soap Lady
Wildwood had brought in for Seonaid to use. He would smell like a summer garden. She
shrugged and continued to soap the linen. There wasn't any other soap to use. Besides, he
would smell better than her father's plaid.

Setting the soap down, she contemplated his back, then grabbed her wine and drank it down
before setting to the task. His back was hard and yet soft at the same time. Seonaid ran
the cloth over his skin, then over it again, then let it drop away and used her hands,
lathering the soap she had applied and massaging the skin with fascination.

“Mmmm, that feels good.” His murmur startled her. She had almost forgotten he was there.
Well, not forgotten exactly, but “Can you do my chest?”

Seonaid stilled, her eyes locked on the back of his head. His chest? She thought of
running her fingers over that wide expanse and her fingers almost itched with the desire
to do so. Sitting back on her heels, she grabbed her wine, realized it was empty, and
reached over his shoulder to snatch his out of his hands.

“Hey!” Blake glanced over his shoulder but just laughed as he watched her down it.
“Thirsty?” he teased, and she scowled at his knowing look.

“I had a tooth pulled once,” she muttered, setting the empty mug aside and shifting to
kneel farther along the tub so that she could reach his chest.

“Did you?” he asked, his confusion apparent. “I am not following the conversation.”

Seonaid retrieved the linen that was now floating on the water's surface and began to run
it over the soap. “It was unpleasant and painful, but no nearly as unpleasant and painful
as it might have been had I no drunk a bottle o' whiskey beforehand.”

“And you are comparing this to having a tooth pulled?” He sounded affronted.

“Lady Wildwood explained what will happen.”

Blake remained silent as she set the soap aside and began to smooth the linen over his
chest. She could feel his eyes on her and sensed he wanted to say something, and so wasn't
surprised when he finally said, “Seonaid, it does not have to be completelyIs that flowers
I smell?”

Seonaid glanced up at his face and nearly laughed when he snatched her hand and drew the
cloth to his nose to sniff it.

“Dear God, you are going to make me smell like a woman.”

She did laugh then. He looked so horrified at the idea. “Too late, ye already do,” she
taunted and tugged her hand loose to continue washing him, but he immediately recaptured
her arm in a bid to stop her.

“Nay, leave off with the soaping, then.”

“Nay. I think ye smell pretty,” she teased, grabbing the cloth with her free hand and
started to run it over him again.

“Witch,” Blake muttered, catching that hand now.

“Oh, witch, is it?” Seonaid asked, laughing at his sulky expression. He'd released her
first hand to grab her second and she again switched the cloth to her free hand. Blake
immediately tried to grab that hand, but Seonaid held it out of reach behind her back with
a laugh.

“Give me the cloth, Seonaid.” He had released her other hand again and leaned forward in
the tub, both arms going around her to try to grab the cloth. Big mistake, Seonaid thought
with amusement, slipping her free hand down to grab the soap from the floor where she'd
set it. In the next moment she was rubbing it over his chest as he struggled to get the
linen from her.

Blake gave an outraged squawk and gave up on the cloth to grab for the soap. Seonaid
immediately started to rub the soapy, flowery-smelling cloth over his arms, chest, and
anywhere she could reach. She was having great fun, until Blake caught that wrist as well.
They began an odd sort of struggle then. He had her by both wrists and she was keeping her
arms up to keep him from snatching the cloth or soap from her. Their struggle forced her
forward on her knees. Her stomach pressed against the side of the tub, but her chest
occasionally became pressed against his as she wrestled with him. He was trying to urge
her hands together over their heads, but she knew he wanted to shift his hold so that he
could capture both her hands together with one of his, then rob her of her weapons, so she
was fighting valiantly against it. Unfortunately, he was stronger than she. When she knew
the battle was about to be lost, Seonaid tugged away from him slightly and let the cloth
drop rather than allow him to claim it.

She hoped that this way she might have a chance to retain the soap. At least she would if
he released her to snatch up the linen as expected. But when both of them peered down to
see where it had landed, they froze at the sight of it poking straight up out of the water
like a tent. It had landed on something. Something sticking up out of the water from
between his legs.

Seonaid's eyebrows rose. It seemed she wasn't the only one having fun, but she hadn't a
clue why their wrestling was exciting him. Or did she? She asked herself the question as
she glanced up, saw that his gaze had moved to the front of her gown, and followed it. The
gown had gotten soaked in the brief tussle and was now transparent and plastered lovingly
to her chest. It revealed rather clearly that her nipples were as erect as his member.

Hmmm, she thought. This was most interesting. She never would have expected it. Fighting,
whether serious or in play, had never had this effect on her before.

She lifted her gaze to Blake's face almost reluctantly then, and he immediately took
advantage of the act and swooped in to press his lips on hers. Seonaid started to pull
back, an automatic reaction, but he immediately released his hold on her wrists and slid
one hand around her back and the other to the back of her head to hold her in place.

Seonaid was not at all used to such masterful behavior. She was generally the one in
control. She went still, her mouth opening on a small gasp, and then gasped in another
breath of shock as his tongue immediately slid into her mouth. No one else had ever kissed
Seonaid before. One boy had tried when she was very young, but she'd pushed him down and
set about beating the haggis out of him. And that had been for just a peck on the cheek.
She'd seen others kissing since then, but generally averted her

eyes since it was usually when she'd turned a corner and come unexpectedly upon a couple.
Seonaid had had no idea that tongues were involved in the endeavor.

She didn't struggle, but remained still under the onslaught, curiosity holding her in
place. It was an interesting activity, this kissing business. His tongue was moving across
hers and sweeping through her mouth as if in search of rotten teeth andin her untried
opinionshould have felt disgusting. But there was something about the taste and feel of
him and the way he did it that was rather nice. His mouth was moving over hers, his tongue
moving in her, his hand urging her chest back against his, and Seonaid had the oddest
desire to stretch and arch her body.