by Tarah Scott
He unclasped her cloak and let it drop to the floor, then hoisted her over his shoulder and threw back the blankets. Kaden started to lay her on the bed, then stopped. Her dress would soak the blankets. He had to remove the dress. Kaden hesitated, then shook off his worry. Her anger was preferable to her death. He slid her down into his arms, sat on the bed, then fumbled with the laces of her bodice. He cursed. His large fingers couldn’t grasp the tiny, wet knots. He pulled his dagger from its sheath and cut the tight lacing. Her bodice expanded. He slid the knife back into its sheath, shimmied the skirt up her thighs then, careful to keep his gaze on her face, dragged the dress up and over her head.
Eyes tightly closed, he grimaced at the press of her soft flesh against his fingers, and cursed the pulse of his cock as he twisted and laid her on the bed. Kaden opened his eyes, glimpsed creamy white breasts in the instant before he yanked the blanket over her. Quickly, he covered her with several more blankets, then shed his furs and added enough logs to the fire that the room would soon be as warm as a midsummer’s day. He draped her dress and cloak across the bench near the hearth, then returned to the bed.
Her eyes remained closed. With a feathery touch, Kaden swept her long copper-colored hair from her face, then touched her cheek. Still too cold for his liking, and she’d begun to shiver. She shifted and her arm slipped from the bed and dangled over the side. Kaden grasped her wrist and noticed several dark purple and blue bruises along her forearm. Checking her other arm, he found the flesh also marred with bruises. He made a tight fist and noted how his fingers were aligned. Glancing back at the bruises, there was no doubt the bruises were made by a man’s fist. Anger shot through him. Only the worse sort of whoreson hit women. Maybe that man was the reason she’d been alone and on foot in a snowstorm. That took courage. Or desperation.
Kaden gently tucked both arms beneath the blanket, then rose and pulled sage and honey from a cupboard. He filled a small cauldron with water, then set it on the table. He retrieved his mother’s journal from the night table and settled in front of the fire.
As the night wore on, his eyes grew heavy, but he forced himself to stay awake and checked on the lass twice before his gaze caught on the stack of wood. He sighed. He’d left the cart full of wood on the path.
Highland Brides of Skye Series
Other books in the Highland Brides of Skye series
Redemption
Deception
About the Authors
April Holthaus and Tarah Scott
April is an Award-Winning Author for her Scottish Historical Romances. For more than ten years, she has worked full time in the direct marketing business, but developed a passion of historical romances through her love of reading, history and genealogy. When she is not working or writing, April loves to spend time with her family and traveling.
Best-selling author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.
