Part 20 (1/2)

Nora's heart pounded as he cuddled her to his side. She'd never had a man hold her like this. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder while his arm was wrapped about her waist with his hand resting on her stomach.

It was intimate and touching, and made her feel very strange. The rich, masculine scent of him invaded her senses, warming every part of her.

She was acutely aware of the strength of him. Of his hard muscles sheltering her. Her body exploded with heat and an aching throb she didn't understand.

Clearing her throat, she pointed up at the constellation of Orion. ”Do you know of Orion the Hunter?”

”Nay.”

She moved her hand over them, showing him Orion's belt, head, arms and legs. ”Can you see the outline of him?”

”Aye, I see it.”

”Well, long ago in ancient Greece, Orion was a mighty hunter. Born the son of Poseidon and Euryale, he searched the world for his one true love...”

Ewan listened in silence as she told him how Orion tried for years to win the hand of Merope and to gain the approval of her father for their marriage. And how Orion had become so tired of the wait that he forced himself on Merope. As punishment her father blinded Orion, who later traveled until he found the Greek G.o.ddess Artemis, who then fell in love with him. Her brother Apollo, angered by their love, tricked Artemis into killing Orion, who was then lifted up to the heavens by the G.o.ddess so that she could remember him always.

”Must all your stories involve love gone awry?” Ewan asked. ”Is there no such thing as someone actually marrying his love and living a happy life with her?”

She turned her head into his shoulder and smiled up at him. His stomach tightened.

”There is the story of Cupid and Psyche. They live together in happiness. Would you rather hear that one?”

”Aye, la.s.s. Please.”

As Ewan listened to the sweet cadence of her voice, he ran his hand idly down her arm to her hand. Her fingers were so delicate compared to his. So soft. He took her hand in his palm and ran the pad of his thumb over the careful curve of her well-manicured nails.

The urge to lift that hand to his mouth and suckle her fingers was so fierce that he wasn't sure how he managed to deny it. He tilted his head to look down at her while she talked. A light pink stained her cheeks as spoke in a gentle tone of love and trust.

How he wanted her.

Right now while she lay so peacefully in his arms.

What would it be like to have her sliding against him? To feel her warm and welcoming beneath him?

Instead, he laid his cheek against the top of her head and contented himself with just holding her like that.

Letting her feminine softness soothe him.

By the time Nora had finished her tale, she realized Ewan was completely relaxed.

More to the point, he was completely asleep.

”Ewan?” she whispered, looking up at him.

He didn't stir.

Her bear lay with his lips slightly parted, her braid laced between his large fingers. She hadn't even realized he'd touched her hair.

But she had known every other move he'd made.

She had felt his tender caress as he held her hand in his and ran his fingers over her wrist and forearm.

And when he had leaned his cheek against her head, she had melted.

Rolling over, she lifted herself up on her arms to look down at him while he slumbered. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead. She brushed it back, then traced the slash of his eyebrow with her fingertip.

He was so delectably handsome. So strong and powerful even while he rested.

Why had he indulged her tonight? She had half expected him to chastise her and send her back to camp like some errant child.

Instead he had listened to her. Held her.

Encouraged her to tell him her stories.

What she wouldn't give for a husband to treat her thusly. She bit her lip as that thought played around in her mind.

Would Ewan be like this if she belonged to him?

He is unfitting for you.

Was he?

He played music for her and he did listen to her. He had even handed her his sword.

Surely such moments made up for his more unrefined ways.

It takes two to make a marriage. Her mother's words echoed in her head. Her mother had oft lectured her on wifely duties and what it took to make a marriage sound.

Marriage is a contract between man and woman. The wife is to care for the husband. To see to his needs, and he in turn is to protect and provide for her. But if the marriage is to be a happy one, then the two must respect each other. They must never belittle or discount the other's feelings. Take your father for instance. He would sooner cut out his own heart than make me cry.

Your husband should always listen to you, just as you should always listen to him.

Nora studied him closely. Ewan didn't seem to be the kind of man to ever discount someone.

She traced the line of his lips, remembering what they had tasted like. The way they looked on the rare occasions when he smiled.

You'll have to marry someone. Why not- ”Don't even think it,” she breathed.

True, she did have to have a husband, but Ewan MacAllister?

He lived in a cave!

Granted, it was a nice cave with glorious furnis.h.i.+ngs, but it was still a cave.

What kind of life could they have together?

Before she realized what she was doing, she was peeling back the corner of his s.h.i.+rt. She'd never before realized just how interesting a man's throat was. How inviting the skin of it could be.