Devil in a Kilt

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completely at ease, without a care, as he lay sprawled in
resplendent nakedness across his side of the bed.
    Despite
herself, her gaze sought and rested upon his sex, relaxed now, yet no less
imposing in its dark virility. As she stared, an exquisite warmth began to
curl languidly through her belly.
    An
aching, pulsing heat that intensified the longer she looked upon him.
    Heat
stole into her cheeks as well, and, embarrassed, she tore her gaze away. Very
slowly, the pulsing warmth in her most feminine core ebbed, and the room's damp
chill claimed her once more.
    Only
now she felt empty as well as cold.
    Bereft
and hollow, as if for a brief moment, she'd had something unique and wonderful
in her grasp, only to have it cruelly ripped away from her.
    A
very faint fluttering still rippled through her and, instinctively, she pressed
her thighs together to ease the ache she didn't understand.
    She
wanted naught to do with such stirrings.
    Not
from a man who did not want her.
    A
man she aught despise for his name alone, lest all his other shortcomings.
    To
her great relief, anger gradually replaced the disturbing sensations gazing at
his nakedness had aroused in her.
    Praise
God he hadn't awakened and caught her eyeing him.
    Would
he have been able to tell her belly had gone liquid and warm at the sight of
his virility, his blatant maleness?
    Could
he have guessed how she'd yearned to reach out and touch him?
    She
shuddered.
    The
possibility he might be able to read her thoughts was unthinkable.
    Shaming.
    She
would've died of mortification.
    Another
loud bang reverberated around the room as the wind once more flung the loose
shutter against the tower wall. This time her husband gave a slight groan and
rolled onto his side.
    Not
wishing to risk his waking, Linnet crept from the bed as carefully as she could
and refastened the loose shutter. To her alarm, the rusty latch made a loud
grating noise that brought another mumbled groan from the direction of the
bed.
    Linnet
froze in place, her hands on the cold metal latch, determined not to move until
she was certain he slept soundly again. Fortune was with her. The sound of his
gentle snores soon blended with the hollow whistle of the wind, the patter of
rain, and the low drone of nesting bees.
    Nesting
bees?
    The
tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled, standing suddenly on end as unease
crept up her spine.
    She'd
not noticed so much as a spider in the chamber. Nor had she seen signs of bugs
or vermin in the floor rushes. Truth to tell, they appeared newly strewn. Someone
had even scented them with fresh meadowsweet.
    Had
the bees swarmed into the room to escape the rain? Warily, lest she make a
noise, she drew her husband's blue-and-green plaid off a chairback and draped
it loosely around her shoulders against the chill as she cautiously scanned the
chamber for the bees.
    Her
gaze darted about, but she saw naught.
    Even
though the whirring noise grew so loud her temples began to throb.
    The
room was empty.
    Nothing
moved save the shadows dancing along the walls.
    With
dawning comprehension, Linnet stared at the oddly elongated shadows, watching as
they took shape, forming themselves into a copse of pine trees.
    The
buzzing reached a piercing level, hurting her ears. Then a cloud of mist rose
up from the floor, its shifting tendrils blocking out all but the circle of
pines ... and the bed.
    Fear
constricted her throat, and her heart slammed against her chest as beads of
moisture sprang onto her forehead. ‘Twas only a vision, only a vision, she repeated
to herself, trying desperately to cling to the knowledge it'd pass in a moment.
    They
always did.
    But
this one was different.
    Different,
yet frighteningly familiar.
    Biting
her lower lip till she tasted blood, Linnet struggled to stifle the scream
building inside her. She mustn't cry out, mustn't awaken her husband.
    Her
lot with him was precarious enough without him seeing her in the throes of one
of her fits, as her da called

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