“If you dinnae mind.” She turned her back and held her burgundy bodice to her chest.
“I’ll never mind.” He sank his fingers into her long golden-blond locks, the soft strands sliding like silk across his wrists and forearms. He eased her hair over her shoulder and exposed her back. “You have the most glorious hair. It glows like woven silk in the firelight.”
“It does?” Over her shoulder, she frowned.
“Aye, and your eyes—” They sparkled like sapphires, a most striking hue with that glittering flare of gold at the edge. “I could drown in them.”
“Mayhap I shouldnae have invited you into my chamber.” She raised a brow. “Doing so has clearly given you the wrong idea.”
“You didn’t invite me. I entered of my own free will, and I would do so again and again.” He loosened her lacings and unable to help himself with the sight of her neck on magnificent display again, he brushed a kiss against the long column, wishing he could damn well take a bite instead. They’d be time for that later, once he’d assured her of the depth of their bond and his commitment to her. “In the future, women rarely need aid in dressing themselves.”
“How is that?”
“There are many new inventions, like zips. They have sharp metal teeth that slide together when pulled shut. I don’t know quite how you deal with all these layers of fabric.”
“As a child, I used to sneak a pair of trews from one of the lads when I wished to roam the woods with complete freedom. Sometimes I still do.” With her bodice scrunched in her hands, she toed off her silk slippers then foraged for her nightgown in the trunk under the window before stepping behind a silk dressing screen hand-painted with a stunning field of heather.
“It’s dangerous for you to roam the woods on your own.” He paced her chamber, unease tracking through him. Brigands would lie in wait for just such a tempting morsel as his woman.
“Dinnae forget my skill, Finlay. One such as I hardly needs a guard. I hold one of deadliest of the fae battle skills. ’Tis just a shame I am a woman and no one allows me to use it.” Her gown flopped over the top of the screen then she rustled about.
He itched to slip behind that screen and tell her exactly why she did need a guard, that it would be him and only him in the future. Instead he bunched his fists and remained right where he was. “Do you dress for bed often with male company in your room?”
“Never.” She walked out, all her luscious curves hidden from his sight in a white nightgown, or at least she was hidden until she stepped between him and the golden glow of the fire. The flames lit the outline of her shapely legs to sheer perfection.
“You are a sight to behold.” Touch was vitally important to any shifter, and more so between mates. He closed the distance between them and caught her hands. “Arabel, from the moment I met you, I’ve been drawn to you, and right now I couldn’t leave you if I tried. These new emotions flaring to life within in me would only rise when I’m with my chosen one. I need you to believe that.”
“I’m no’ your chosen one.” She stepped away and the distance she enforced had his bear rumbling his displeasure. “You must keep searching, Finlay, and I shall aid you on the morrow if you wish. I know all the lasses.”
“My bear wants you, and only you.” His claws sliced out. “He’s hungry for his mate, and there is no arguing with either him or me.” She was his, and of that he had no doubt. A fire-wielder. Aye, her skill would provide a greater challenge than most mated pairs had to deal with, but it was a challenge he was more than up for. They were soul-bound, a match in every way, and he wouldn’t allow her skill to obstruct his path, of completing the bond and ensuring she never left his side.
Chapter 2
Standing on the pebbly beach before the fae village, Nessa wrapped her fur cloak tighter about her as moonlight shimmered across the loch’s choppy surface. Farther along the bay, the House of Clan Matheson rose like a sentinel in the dark, its massive gray stone turrets and towering walls topped with battlements and guardsmen roaming the ramparts. From the multitude of square windows, candlelight flickered in welcome. Her sanctuary, and that of her fae people, if only they’d accept it.
The village leaders had heeded her first forewarning and spoken to the people, but as she’d had no further visions surrounding the battle since then, they now believed all would be well and that they could adequately defend their village and their people. That would not be the case. If only she could force a vision.