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Their bodies connected with an impact that sent water shooting up between them, and by the time it settled over them, he had his mouth against hers, hot and urgent and looking for more.
She didnt protest. She returned the kiss with even more fervor.
His hands slid up her midriff until they rested beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and his thumbs began to play against her hard nipples. They felt so good that he had to taste them, and he tore his mouth away as he lifted her up and settled his lips over one nipple at a time.
She dropped her head back with a groan, and it fired his loins to an awful hard ache. He knew if he didnt stop, if he didnt put distance between them, that in the next few minutes he would slip inside her and make her his, and permanently.
Pa.s.sion had quickly consumed both of them, and he could quickly satisfy it, but he wasnt looking to give Zia a quick romp in the river. He wanted something more with her, something that would last their entire lives and always remain special to them.
He didnt want only s.e.x with her; he wanted love.
He eased her back down into the water, not daring to let her flesh meet his, and pressed his wet cheek to hers. Another time, another place, and Ill make you mine.
She wasnt only stunned; he saw disappointment on her face.
Time to go, he said.
Surprisingly, she followed him without protest. She didnt utter a word, not when he stepped out of the water before she did or kept his back to her while he dressed, affording her the privacy to do the same.
Silence went home along with them, even into the cottage. He didnt join her in bed until after she had changed into a linen s.h.i.+ft and climbed under the light blanket. With only his plaid on, he climbed in beside her and fitted himself against her back, wrapping his arm around her, his hand resting firmly beneath her breast.
Rest well, I will be right here, he whispered, and kissed her cheek.
Chapter 15.
Zia lay awake long after Artair fell asleep. She couldnt get the strange evening out of her mind. Artair had startled her in more ways than one. First, when he swept her off her feet. She was too shocked to protest, but liked that hed done it. And then she was shocked again when he fixed her favorite brew.
She had a.s.sumed that after depositing her on the bed, he intended to kiss her. While she would have invited it, she thought it endearing that he made her favorite brew, and even knew what it was. And made it so perfectly. She wondered if he had practiced.
And then their tryst in the river. She had realized she was tempting fate, actually tempting him beyond reason. She chuckled. She hadnt really expected him to join her, especially after he suggested that she wait until morning. And once he did join her, she wanted much more than it seemed he was willing to give.
She smiled, recalling his words.
Another time, another place, and Ill make you mine.
Just the thought enthralled her, tingles p.r.i.c.kling her skin.
And then, when their brief tryst was over, hed been such a gentleman. He didnt gawk at her, but instead he respected her privacy.
And finally, she recalled how he wrapped himself so lovingly around her when they were in bed, and a.s.sured her that hed remain beside her.
His body continued to warm her and his muscled arms kept her in a protective embrace. Even his steady breathing soothed her while faintly tickling the back of her neck.
It hadnt been two full weeks since she met this man, yet she thought of him as a friend shed known since she was young. Someone with whom she could safely share secrets, tell her troubles to, laugh with and when necessary cry with.
She wondered how they had bonded so quickly, but then silently laughed the thought away. Her grandmother had told her that Artair was good for her. Why question it? Why not simply wait and see where it led? He would reason over it enough for the both of them; for her part, she would let fate take its course.
It had been an interesting evening, and she could only imagine, with a flutter of antic.i.p.ation, what the immediate future would bring.
With exhaustion overwhelming her bevy of thoughts, Zia fell asleep with a smile.
Their departure was delayed because of a young child whose fever remained constant. Until the fever broke and the childs appet.i.te returned, Zia refused to leave, and Artair remained concerned.
The villagers thought highly of Zia and treated her with respect, and Artair suspected that much of it was because they believed she was his wife. His men had confirmed his suspicions when they shared what village gossip they heard.
James, with Patrick corroborating, told him how the women believed that Zia and he were a good match, and how lucky she was to have a husband who not only allowed her to heal, but was patient while she did. Yes, the women had claimed them an extraordinary pair.
The news concerned him more than pleased him since gossip was more contagious than the pox and could spread with the same speed. He reiterated his order for James and Patrick to remain alert to anyone entering the village.
He worried about keeping Zia safe, especially after last night. She had taken off for the river without even thinking, as if there were nothing for her to worry about. She never gave thought to possible danger. She simply did as she pleased, without considering the possible consequences of her rash actions.
Not that he hadnt enjoyed their night swim, though in truth they hadnt swam much. He grinned at the memory. If he hadnt controlled the situation, Zia would have sealed her fate in becoming his wife. As much as that would have made it easier for him, hed realized he wanted more from her, a realization that surprised him.
It was still another reason for getting Zia out of there. He wanted to be with her in normal surroundings so they could determine what it was they wanted and expected from each other.
Artair!
He looked up from where he sat on the bench of the cottage he shared with Zia. She had left while he still slept, and with Jamess hurried steps, he suddenly wished he knew where she was.
Artair stood and matched Jamess rushed steps. Whats wrong?
James shook his head. A messenger from the village of Lorne has arrived.
d.a.m.n, Artair said, and ran rough fingers through his hair. Where is he?
Hes speaking with the elders of the village in the common shelter.
He could confront them, Artair thought, or wait to be summoned.
His course of action was decided for him when a young lad rushed over to tell him the elders wanted to see him.
As soon as he entered the large gathering room and saw the dire expressions on the elders faces, he knew trouble was brewing.
The messenger who had arrived in Donnan from the village of Lorne didnt give anyone a chance to speak. He swung an accusing finger at Artair. Hes no husband to the witch.
My wife is no witch, Artair said firmly. And if you continue to spread such lies, I will cut out your lying tongue.
The thick-chested man wasnt swayed by the threat. His pointed finger disappeared into a clenched fist, which he shook furiously at Artair. She has bewitched you. We warned you and you did not listen and now you have condemned us all.
What nonsense do you speak? Artair demanded.
The man lowered his voice, his eyes s.h.i.+fting fearfully. It is not nonsense. The witch works her magic with her potions and spells.
Those potions heal the sick. And what spells? My wife cast no spells.
Then why do you claim to be wed to her? Show me proof, the messenger challenged, though now, at Artairs adamancy, he did show fear, his voice quivering.
It was just what Artair had been afraid would happen. He couldnt help but think that if Zia hadnt been so stubborn, this situation might have been settled without a problem.
Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, he advanced on the messenger. The man shrank away from him. You dare call me a lair? Artair demanded.
I only wish to protect you from evil, the man hurried to explain.
My wife is not evil. She generously heals the people of this village.
The messenger spoke up bravely. She did the same for us and then used her spells and charms to entice the men. If you had let us burn her"
The good people of Donnan would be dead, Artair concluded.
His blunt remark had the elders whispering among themselves.
Dont listen to him, the messenger begged. He is bewitched. She has him doing her bidding and will have all of you doing the same.
Odran, the oldest of the elders, spoke. Zia has asked nothing of us.
The messenger cringed and covered his ears. Do not say her name. I will not hear it and I will not look upon evil.
Artair wanted to beat the man senseless, but he knew that would only serve to reinforce the accusations against Zia. He had to show that he remained in control of himself.
The only evil here is the evil you speak against my wife, he emphasized yet again. She has tirelessly tended the ill of this village and has healed them.
He is right, Odran agreed.
The messengers finger shot out again. She is casting her spell over all of you. You should burn her now before it is too late.
Once again Artair was incensed. He almost grabbed the man"the blithering idiot"to smash his face in, but stopped himself and spoke with a calm he didnt feel. Youve delivered your message, now leave.
I will leave after you show me proof of your marriage, the man said boldly.
It would settle the matter, Odran said.
It certainly would, Artair thought, and silently cursed himself for not insisting that Zia and he wed. But that did him little good now.
Shes tricked him into thinking he wed her, the messenger accused.
The elders mumbled among themselves, no doubt agreeing that proof was necessary for the protection of their village. And he couldnt blame them.
Artair!
The men turned to see Zia, smiling, holding a bouquet of wild flowers in her hand. She looked more angel than evil, her blond strands forming a halo affect over her red hair, her cheeks tinged softly pink.
She rushed over to him, holding out the bouquet. Look what the women give us to celebrate our one week anniversary. She looked from one startled man to another. Im sorry. It seems Ive interrupted a private meeting.
The messenger raised a quick, outstretched hand to ward her off as he turned his face away. Dont cast your evil eyes on me, witch.
The elders ignored the messenger, and Odran said to Zia, How wonderful for you, and how good of you to come to our village to help after being wed for such a short time.
Illness never arrives at an opportune time, she remarked.
Proof. Proof. Ask her for proof, the messenger demanded irritably and with his glance cast to the ground.
Zia slipped her arm around Artairs. Our marriage papers are with my belongings that were sent on to Artairs home. We saw no reason to carry proof with us. She cast a blissful glance at Artair. Anyone who sees us knows we are madly in love and newly wed. She chuckled. Did no one see us sneak out of our cottage for a swim last night?
Odran smiled sheepishly. Someone mentioned your husband chasing after you.
Artair joined in her game. I bet that Id beat her to the river.
Zia grinned. He lost.
The elders laughed and nodded, recalling youthful follies of their own.
She lies! the messenger screamed.
Enough! Artair declared with strength that near shook the walls. Did my wife heal your people?
Yes, but"
Did anyone die? Artair asked curtly.
No, but"
Does your village suffer?
The messenger hesitated, then shook his head. You dont understand. You are bewitched.
I do understand, Artair confirmed. You are ungrateful. Leave now. You are not welcome here with your lies.
The elders agreed with repeated nods.
Youll be sorry, the man vowed with a raised fist. My village has contacted the church council and they will decide her fate. He hurried to the door, stopped but didnt turn around. I will make certain a messenger is sent to Caithness to verify your wedding papers.
He left without looking back.
We are grateful for your help, Zia, Odran said, and the others agreed. We thought for sure that many would die, but your remarkable skills have saved us.
Was that a flash of skepticism he caught in the elders eyes? Artair wondered. It worried him. All that was needed was a drop of doubt for problems to start, and the messenger had planted more than a drop. They had to leave the village, and soon.
After exchanging niceties with the elders, he and Zia left the common shelter and walked arm in arm to their cottage, their smiles bright while they spoke softly to each other.
We cant stay here, Artair said. Please tell me the child is well enough for you to leave.
Her fever broke and no doubt will not return. The worst of this is over. She kept her grin steady, aware that they were being observed. Do you think the messenger will return with others for me?