The Warrior's Touch by Michelle Willingham Page A

crackled upon the hearth, warming her skin.
    Suddenly a cold stream sounded far more welcome. She was acting nervous around him, and for some reason it pleased him. When she’d fed him the craibechan , he’d seen her blush. But Aileen was no virgin. She had known the pleasures of a husband, and desire roared through him at the thought of sharing her bed. He wanted her, wanted to touch the smooth porcelain skin and kiss the sadness from her face.
    ‘Do you miss Eachan?’ he asked suddenly.
    She nodded. ‘He loved me. I only wish I could have borne him a—’ Her words broke off, and she looked stricken, as though she wanted to take back the words. ‘I wish I could have borne him another child,’ she managed. ‘Rhiannon was our only daughter.’
    Aileen’s face turned crimson and she turned toward the cauldron. She dipped buckets of hot water, pouring them into the tub. Steam rose from the water, and she added a scattering of green herbs.
    ‘Am I to be boiled and seasoned like a roasted fowl?’ Connor teased.
    ‘It is only mint and a few other herbs for healing. Do not bathe your hands,’ she warned. ‘After the bandages come off, you may wash them.’
    When the tub was filled with water, Connor eyed it with suspicion. ‘I cannot fit into such a small space.’
    ‘You can if you kneel.’
    Connor had his doubts, but he saw no alternative, save standing before her naked. A concern rose in his mind. ‘Will others think less of you, if I stay here?’
    Aileen shook her head, regarding him with a frank appraisal. ‘They already think less of me as a healer. I cannot see how their opinion matters any more. And I am not a young maiden who has never seen an unclothed man.’
    Her reminder shot another blade of desire into his groin. Eachan had lain with Aileen, touching the softness of her skin. He had cupped those heavy breasts within his hands, running his thumbs over the nipples. Connor shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware that it had been many months since he’d last been with a woman.
    Aileen allowed her brat to fall from her shoulders and lifted her earth-coloured overdress off. She wore only a thin cream-coloured léine that clung to her slender waist.
    ‘Are you planning to join me in the water?’ he asked lightly.
    She smiled and shook her head. ‘There would not be room for me, and well you know it.’
    ‘You could sit upon my lap.’ Though he meant the words as nothing but flirtation, his imagination conjured up a sexual vision of Aileen straddling him, her womanhood pressed against his rigid length.
    ‘It is warm in here,’ Aileen said. ‘And I’ve no wish to get my overdress wet.’ She came closer and began unlacing his tunic.
    The soft touch of her hands moving across his chest inflamed his lust. The knowledge that he could not touch her with his injured hands made it worse. It was torment, having a woman’s hands upon him and not being able to act upon his own desires.
    ‘What of Riordan?’ Connor asked, trying to dispel his need. He lifted his arms, realising that if Riordan knew of this arrangement he would be furious.
    ‘Riordan holds no claim over my decisions. He is not my husband.’ Aileen reached for his trews, but Connor stopped her.
    ‘And what if he becomes your husband?’
    She stopped. ‘I am a healer, bathing a man who cannot do it himself. There is no shame in it.’
    At the touch of her palms upon his hips, his erection grew even harder. Her fragrance of fresh herbs and femininity undid him. He suppressed a groan, stopping her from lowering his trews. ‘If you wish, I can—’
    ‘You can remove your own trews?’ she asked mildly.
    Though her words were not a taunt, it reminded him of the unwanted weakness. Aileen stripped him of his clothing, averting her gaze from his manhood.
    Connor stepped into the bathing tub, kneeling down to hide himself from her. Though she behaved with the appropriate courtesy, her ministrations bothered him. He should have been able to