The Virgin's Pursuit by Joanne Rock Page A

well?”
    He studied her in silence with the same predatory stillness she’d observed many times when he stalked his prey.
    She’d never been so close to him, nor had she ever viewed him so keenly before. He had the lithe strength of a stallion with his sleekly muscled grace. His dark looks were not the foreign variety of the Norman invaders, although his tawny eyes were unusual for a Scot. Thick, dark hair shone with good health and revealed good care of his person, one of many reasons she’d chosen him for this task.
    He was garbed in the muted shades of the forest, with dark braies that hugged muscular thighs and ended around the taut bulge of his calves. His boots were laced up the ankle, the heavy leather protecting him from the thick forest brush, and enabling him to tread with utter stealth.
    His tunic was of a crude hue that many a crofter would wear in the field. Yet the fine pleats and embroidered embellishment about the placket conveyed a far higher status. A deposed nobleman? The thought struck a deeper note of fear. Nay. No nobleman hunted the woods alone as often as this forest warrior. His sword was simple and free of gems and scrollwork. A rough leather strap served as his belt, with a functional eating knife at the hip.
    Surely this hunter’s position leaned more toward a successful trade.
    â€œMy journey has been long,” he admitted after a moment, his finely sculpted mouth capturing her attention as he spoke. “Have I ventured near another town to meet a fair maid I’ve never spied before?”
    â€œI wash clothes in yon river,” she lied, pointing away from her cottage to help ensure he did not know where she lived. With luck, he would think her a lowly washerwoman and never seek her out again, which would keep her babe safely in her care alone.
    Then, rousing her courage, she made a bold suggestion. “Perhaps you would like me to wash your clothes?”
    As soon as she made the offer, she realized she’d spoken a bit too softly, her tone lacking the brash flirtation she’d heard more experienced women use. But the words themselves were so improper, she found it difficult to infuse them with more suggestive meaning.
    â€œYou are unprotected here?” he asked, looking around the clearing for some companion. “Does no one accompany you?”
    The concern in his voice alerted her to how badly she’d misjudged this business of seduction. He was not thinking about stripping down to nothing and taking advantage of her in the remote woods. He worried for her safety. The notion touched her heart even as she feared she would not be able to achieve her heart’s desire. What if this man proved too noble to touch an unchaperoned maiden?
    â€œMy friends have returned to our village with the washing, but I have lingered here…hoping to see you.” She met his gaze with all the directness she could muster, allowing the carnal nature of her desire to show in her eyes.
    When an answering heat fired in his expression, a tense awareness apparent in his limbs, she glanced away again. She had not expected such immediate results from her admission.
    â€œThis is not the first time you have been in these woods.” It was no question. His voice, tinged with new understanding, stroked over her senses.
    He stepped closer.
    Her throat constricted.
    She merely shook her head in response.
    â€œYou take a great risk,” he chided, lifting a hand toward her.
    Everything within her stilled. His fingers skimmed the fabric of her sleeve without grazing the skin beneath. Her flesh tightened and tingled with his nearness. Heaven help her, she did take a great risk. What did she know about him, besides his gentle respect for the forest animals?
    â€œI have seen you walk with care through these woods before,” she admitted, her gaze fixed upon the broad column of his throat, since she found it difficult to meet those tawny eyes directly. “Your