His Conquest by Diana Cosby Page B

she’d covered the angry gashes, marks that would mend and become lost among the numerous scars littering his body. Unlike the scar he bore on his heart due to the woman who’d hurt him. ’Twould seem that would never heal.
    “Rest.” Linet stood and walked to the opening. She leaned against the time-worn stone and watched the rush of water pour over the ledge Seathan had clung to but a short while ago. A tremor rippled through her body. Then another.
    “Linet?”
    At the soft rumble of his voice, she stilled. Exhausted, she didn’t want to spar with him further. “Go to sleep.”
    “Lie with me.”
    At his delirious command, her heart stumbled. He sought but another body’s heat. No, she lied to herself. When he’d watched her before, she’d recognized the raw need burning in his eyes. If she chose, he would give her body its every dream.
    Warmth swept through her as she imagined his fingers skimming over her flesh, touching her, savoring her every shiver. “You need rest.”
    “Look at me.”
    Foolishly, she turned.
    Stilled.
    Desire, hot and intense, still darkened his gaze. Sweet Mary, how could any woman turn him away? Yet with the secrets she harbored, how could she accept the temptation he offered?
    He lifted his hand.
    Her throat went dry. “I…”
    “Need rest as well,” he said into the thickening silence.
    Angst, relief, and disappointment swept through her in quick succession. Lost in her own desires, she’d misread his intent.
    Too aware of this Scottish rebel, a warrior who represented everything she’d ever wanted in a man, she closed the distance. With her body aching with need, she stretched out by his side.
    He drew her against him.
    “You should not be moving,” she cautioned, wishing for nothing else than for him to hold her.
    A lie.
    She wished for so much more.
    “Go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled.
    She closed her eyes, but with him flush against her, his soft breaths caressing her neck, she doubted she’d find sleep this night.
     
     
    Seathan shifted on the pallet and pain tore through his body. With a grimace, he shook off the fog of sleep and surveyed his surroundings.
    Through the worn stone opening, slivers of dawn greeted him. The rush of water echoed from below. A soft, cool breeze, laced with mist and earth, filled his senses.
    The cave.
    In his dreams, he’d slept within his own bed, the fire in the hearth roaring hot.
    But not alone.
    A soft groan caught his attention. He glanced down. Linet lay snug against him, the soft curve of her breast inches away from his fingers, the swell tempting him to touch.
    The fragile light of dawn carved soft shadows over her fine-boned face, accented the lush sweep of her lashes and her full lips.
    His body hardened. On a muttered curse he closed his eyes, willed himself to calm. But with each breath, he inhaled her tempting scent.
    “Seathan?” Her throaty, rough morning murmur had him looking down.
    A mistake.
    The innocence of her expression stole his every thought, his ability to resist what he wanted most.
    On a groan, he leaned down and covered her mouth. The velvet softness of her lips had him deepening the kiss, falling into the sensations she made him feel. As within the cell, he lost himself to her taste, that of woman and need, her passionate response feeding his own.
    Linet shifted against him, her eyes watching him with desire.
    His body demanding its need, Seathan rolled her over, expecting her to tell him to stop, to play a maiden’s game. Instead, like a temptress, her eyes sparkled with longing as she watched him, then deepened to something dark, something dangerous, something desperate.
    Slender fingers touched his chest, skimmed down to pause a hand’s breath from where he’d hardened to a painful length. “Take me.”
    And his good intent fractured.
    Through sheer will, he held, waited, giving her a chance to withdraw the offer, to deny him what he’d wanted since he’d met her.
    The rush of water from