Choosing the Highlander by Jessi Gage

mother, even while malnourished, was able to not only give birth to her but also provide sustenance.
    Wonder expanded in her chest as she watched Terran bring one of Aifric’s hands up to rest on the baby. He whispered sweetly. To mother or baby, Connie wasn’t sure. She stood and tiptoed out of the room, leaving the little family to their privacy and hoping Aifric would recover and be all right.
    When she returned to her room, weary and hungry, it was to find Wilhelm pouring steaming water into an ewer. “Take off your clothes,” he said. “I intend to bathe you.”
     

Chapter 7
    Shock and lust held Connie paralyzed in the doorway.
    Wilhelm had traded his poupoint and hose for a linen shirt and simple trousers. Both garments looked like they could use a washing, as did the man himself. Grime and sweat streaked his face. Between that and his faint odor of earth and hard-working man, her heart thumped extra hard, pumping blood spiked with attraction.
    The son of a baron and laird, he would be considered nobility. But he had clearly worked hard today, not demanding service, but serving instead. And now, he wanted to serve her.
    For a heart-stopping moment, she wanted to let him. Heck, she wanted to let him do more than bathe her. I’ll undress if you do first. It was on the tip of her tongue. But no. She was not about to undress in front of a man she hardly knew.
    It must be her exposure to the love between Terran and Aifric making her desire a connection with this warrior from the past. She had no doubt an intimate interlude with Wilhelm would prove exceptional, but short-term flings weren’t her style.
    In one day, two tops, Wilhelm would be a memory, nothing more. Her dream had given her hope that this shopkeeper Leslie had spoken with might actually exist. She needed to find him. Or at the very least return to Druid’s Temple so she could make her way back to the present day.
    “No, thank you,” she made herself say. She kept her voice low so no one overheard her Midwestern-American accent and tempered her refusal with a smile. “I can wash myself. I wouldn’t say no to something to eat, though, if you have anything handy.”
    She winced, realizing she’d just treated Wilhelm like wait staff at a hotel. It had to be the stress of the day. It wasn’t easy seeing someone suffer, especially when they’d already been through so much.
    Poor Aifric. Thank heaven the baby appeared healthy. That had been far from a guarantee considering the young mother’s condition.
    Wilhelm watched her with intense blue eyes while he untied the laces of his shirt. The linen parted, revealing nothing underneath but fair, firm skin.
    Connie gulped.
    “You mistake my meaning. ’Twas no’ meant to be a request.” He let the shirt slip down his arms. It fell to the floor, but her gaze remained glued on Wilhelm.
    He. Was. Magnificent.
    His skin was paler than the linen he’d just shed. Creamy and smooth, his muscular chest and torso made her want to lap him up like the most decadent white chocolate. And maybe even take a nibble.
    His broad shoulders were so thick with muscle she would be hard pressed to get a good grip if she wanted to give him a massage, and she did want to give him a massage. She’d never wanted that with any other man, but here she was wanting to dig her fingers into Wilhelm’s flesh to ease his aches after a hard training session or simply to bring him pleasure.
    An enticing line drew a path from the hollow beneath his throat between his massive pectorals, through his ridged abdominals and down past the high waist of his trousers, where her gaze couldn’t follow.
    “I shall bring you supper soon,” he said, yanking her gaze back up to his face. “But first, I. intend. To. Bathe. You.”
    Power and intent radiated from him like heat off the hood of a race car. Places low inside her clenched as for the first time in her life a man issued her an order and she wanted to obey.
    But obeying Wilhelm would lead