Rescued by the Celtic Warrior (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 1) by Amy Jarecki

up to the pool, she stooped and flicked the water with her hand. “Goodness, that is cold. I’m surprised the pond isn’t covered with ice.”
    Valeria’s teeth chattered while she splashed as quickly as possible, rinsed the dirt out of her hair and rubbed under her arms. A quick dip would have to suffice, otherwise she might freeze into a Greek statue. She pictured herself on the edge of the pool in the eternal marble form of goddess “Valeria.”
    Pia held her cloak open and ready. “Child, you must be half crazed to stay in the water as long as you did. Look at you, your lips are blue.”
    Unable to control her shivers, Valeria clutched the cloak around her body. She followed Pia back to the camp. “You best stand by the fire.”
    Greum snorted. “Took a fresh morning dip I see. Unfortunate nature doesn’t see fit to heat the water for ye.”
    “Most unfortunate indeed.” Valeria managed to control the chattering of her teeth long enough to reply.
    Taran stepped into the glade. “The horses are ready. A half day’s ride and we’ll be feasting in the warm hall of Dunpelder.”
    He took her hand and led her to Blackie. Before helping her mount, he leaned near her ear. “Ye’d be less likely to catch your death if ye take yer clothes off before you dive into one of our chilly Pictish pools. Ye also warm up a lot faster that way.”
    “I shall keep that in mind next time. Pia thought it would be prudent if I left my tunic on.”
    ****
    Trying to ignore his conjured image of Valeria’s naked body slipping into a pool of water, Taran gave her a leg up. He then moved over to Pia to do the same. Though stout, Pia nearly flew over the other side of her gelding.
    “My, you do have some power in those arms, young man.”
    “Aye. Strong limbs for wielding a sword to protect ye ladies.”
    Taran considered letting Valeria ride with Pia but decided against it. He would be better able to defend her if she rode with him. Plus, her tunic was still damp under her cloak and his body would keep out the chill. She’d definitely be more comfortable with him.
    However, he needed to avoid his involuntary reaction to her bottom pressed against his crotch. He couldn’t deny the sensation drove him as mad as a stallion in a paddock with a mare in heat, but the very core of his honor prevented him from leading the lady into the wood and tugging up her skirts—honor and the lady’s nursemaid. Valeria had no idea how much danger she’d been in back at the pool. If Pia hadn’t arrived, he could have lost control.
    He’d never forget how, at the tender age of four and ten, not long before he was sent to Gododdin, he cornered Marta in the milking shed and kissed her on the lips. After thinking about the incident, he figured she might have tricked him into it because she batted her eyelashes, giggling and dancing behind the door. He followed her, and the next thing Taran knew, she grabbed him round the waist and thrust her tongue in his mouth.
    He’d been only too eager to explore all the temptress had to offer right there in the hay, but he nearly jumped into the next shire when the hands of his father latched onto him and tossed him across the barn like a sack of grain.
    After a good hiding, his father had figured it was time to talk. They took a walk through the glen. Seeing Da’s ruddy face red, Taran had feared he was going to burst like an overripe plum. “Son, ʼtis time ye knew the rules where lassies are concerned.”
    Taran’s backside was still hot and stinging. He hadn’t a mind to say a thing. He’d kept walking, though. If he turned tail and ran, it would buy him another half-dozen lashes at least.
    His father had kept his eyes ahead too, and Taran now found amusement remembering the old man’s discomfort. “I know how maiden lassies can tempt a lad, but ye must never sow yer seed where ye have no business.”
    Realizing what his father was saying, the heat in his cheeks burned a fire so fierce, he was sure