Sean took a huge swallow of the bitter liquid, nearly choking himself. He shook his head at the heat working into his belly.
That was unexpected. And unwanted! When did he begin to pay attention to the fact that she was a female?
No doubt every time she forgot to disguise her voice. Or at the sight of her rounded bottom filling out the trews every time she bent over the fire. A fine sight. A mighty fine arse. She wanted to see to the fire? So be it. He’d even goaded her with disparaging comments about the small size of the flame, about it barely giving off any heat, about how he could do a much better job. She couldn’t ignore that. Instead she kept working on it, adding twigs, poking it around. She’d been working on it for nigh on two hours. And he was rock hard.
It became more difficult to focus on treating her as the lad she pretended to be. She did a terrible job. She couldn’t even alight from a horse properly.
I’m not a child.
That may sound like something a lad might say but not in answer to the opportunity to learn more swear words. By the time Sean turned ten and three, he could swear with the best of them. He’d also learned to spit fifteen feet. He laughed. Mayhap he should compete with her on that.
Sleeping arrangements may be a problem with only the one covering. It was a cool enough night. He could let her have it but would that seem awkward? A lad would expect no such treatment.
The rustling from the woods warned him of her return. Her cheeks were flushed and wisps of auburn hair had come loose, framing her face. He had to hold back the need to ask if all was well. He wouldn’t ask if she were a lad.
“Aon scéal agat?”
Damn.
He couldn’t stop himself but he refused to look at her. Just another glance. Her lips were red as if she’d been rubbing them. She must have gone back to the loch and washed herself. A huge damp spot on her tunic revealed far too much about what lay beneath. His breath caught. He looked away before he would see more.
“Yea.” She fidgeted next to the brat.
He couldn’t bring himself to see her sleep on the cold ground without a cover. “Go ahead and use the skin. I’m not for bed till later.”
“Are ye certain?”
“Aye. I don’t usually sleep much when I travel.”
“Ye’re not from here?”
Why did she have to keep talking to him?
“Just get ye to bed, youngling.” He sounded harsh and a glance toward her revealed her hurt expression. “Enough talking now.”
He closed his eyes but faced the fire. The fetching sight of one well-rounded breast and her taut nipple pressing against the rough material shot right to his groin.
“If ye’re certain—”
“To bed!” Sean took another long sip and fought against the urge to look at her.
The sound of her movement was more than enough for him to visualize her standing near the fire, shaking the deer hide, wrapping it around herself—
“Are ye certain?”
He stood and headed into the forest without another word. She was killing him. A walk would do him good. Get his raging desires under control.
He returned a short time later to find her curled up, asleep, and turned away from the fire. The brat lay a few feet away as if she couldn’t bear to take his only covering. That was not what a lad would do either.
“Stupid girl,” Sean muttered under his breath before going to retrieve it.
He shook it out and stooped beside her. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing steady. Her fine arse poking out beneath her leine. A good, firm arse. Good to caress. Good to grab with both hands. Good to hold while he pumped into her.
He leaned in to peer further over her shoulder. With her hands tucked between her legs for warmth, her loose top bunched open. A good swell of cleavage confirming her breasts were just the right size. More than a handful was a waste.
His breath tightened. He mentally shook himself.
She mumbled in her sleep.
He covered her with the brat and stood. All properly covered now. He remained rooted to the ground unable to take his eyes off her. The gentle curve of her neck attracted his attention. The lobe of her small ear just visible beneath her thick hair. If he kissed her there, she’d surely moan.
“Sweet Jesus.” Sean glanced toward heaven for some help. He forced his feet to move away, to the other side of the fire where he dropped onto the hard ground.
Sean needed a good swiving. He’d gone without satisfaction for too long, even turning away a few very eager lasses. Women always noticed him. They liked his large size—and there had never been a shortage of females. It had been that way since he’d first sprouted up before the other lads. And continued to grow. Some of his best curses were learned from the mouths of the women slaking themselves on his rod.
This time he’d been holding off until he could finally be with Brighit. He’d convinced himself that now she would accept him if only to avoid taking vows as a nun. Never did he believe she would have fallen for someone else. Tadhg had actually rolled his eyes when Sean explained he saved himself for Brighit. That had been the reason Sean offered his friend’s treasured knife as collateral for the horse.
So now the first woman he encounters keeps setting him off like an untried lad. That had to be the reason for this urge to poke this particular female. Her unintentional offer to him had shot right to his balls. There was definitely more fun to be had with that one. He’d found himself considering the best plan for getting her out of those trews so he could pay homage to that tight arse and find what other treasures lay between her legs.
He snorted, his lips curled into a sneer. “Well that’s not going to happen.” He grabbed the skin and emptied its contents into his mouth. “Not ever.”
Propping his head against the log, he stared into the fire. This was not a need he was about to get satisfied by some woman who, for whatever reason, dressed up like a lad. He’d go for a properly dressed, shapely woman. With breasts that hung like fruit. Like Brighit. Perhaps once he saw this one reunited with her brother, he’d find himself some willing wench.
The fog in his brain finally spread throughout his head and he slept.
It was the cold that awoke him. His body stiff from the hard ground and the frigid dampness working through his limbs. The fire glowed with its dying embers. He poked it around with a stick and tossed in the last few pieces of dried wood.
He glanced toward Tommy. She had not moved. Body warmth was not to be taken lightly. He crossed the camp and dropped behind her, lifting the long brat to cover himself as well.
Sean kept a discreet distance between them. The deer skin material did much to ward off the cold and he quickly drifted back to sleep.
In his dreams, a lovely woman with flowing brown hair rode behind him, astride his mount. His own horse, Hamish, so he must be in Eire. That would mean the woman would be Brighit. Her arms wrapped tightly around his middle. His hand covered hers but he found them ice cold. He tried to warm them, even bringing them to his mouth for a hot breath. They refused to heat up.
Was she dead?
He jumped down from Hamish and reached up to take the woman by her middle. It wasn’t Brighit. Someone he’d never seen before. She had dark brows arching over fetching green eyes. Her smile looked sad and he knew he had to get her warm or she would surely die. He held her against him. She molded into the contours of his arms, pressing her small form against his chest.
“I canna get warm,” she said.
He stroked her silky hair down her back. “Shh.”
His hand grazed her from crown to buttocks. A firm, round buttocks. “Mmm, ye’re cold everywhere.”
“What are ye doing?”
The woman suddenly pulled away from him. Her expression spoke of accusations he didn’t understand.
He opened his eyes. His hands were tucked between his knees and his teeth chattered.
“What are ye doing?” The woman dressed as a lad.
“Trying to sleep.” Exhaustion pulled at him. The darkness around them indicated sunrise was still a long way off. “Let me sleep.”
“Ye need not share yer cloak.”
Tommy sat beside him, her hair a mess around her shoulders, her tunic askew, and eyes that were shooting arrows at him.
“I decided I did. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not comfortable like this I... usually sleep alone. Ye’re too close.”
He glared at her. “I dunna bother young boys. Go back to sleep and let me do the same.”
“I dinna—”
She sounded like a girl again.
“I dinna say ye did.”
And now she sounded like a girl pretending to be a boy.
“Argh!” Sean stood up, dropping the brat on her. “Here! Have the damned thing.”
He went to the fire and dug around hoping for some flames.
“I dunna want it.” She threw the covering toward him. It nearly landed in the fire.
Resentment shot through his gut like a knife blade. Sean clenched his teeth holding back his angry retort but allowed his expression to speak for him when he faced her. Boys did not throw items around a fire. Boys did not complain about having someone sleeping too close. Boys took what they were offered and shut up about it.
“I think ye need yer arse slapped but good.”
Her eyes widened, she stepped back, and gasped as if he were about to redden her bottom at that very moment. He turned away from her and toward the fire. “Give me any more trouble and I’ll see to it myself.”
From the sound of the movements, Tommy must have laid back down. A quick glance told him she’d rolled away from him. Unexpectedly, she stood back up. He turned away, feigning little interest. She went to retrieve the brat, covered herself with it, and turned away from the fire again.
Sean laughed quietly. Quite a spitfire. If he’d had more time, she might be an interesting puzzle to work out. Who she was and why she dressed like a boy. And why wasn’t she married yet? But he had duties of his own. Once he returned the horse and had Tadhg’s knife back in hand, he didn’t care what she did with the horse.
Tadhg had left Eire in a hurry to protect Brighit, who, it turned out, didn’t need his help. He’d left a mess behind, barely enough food for the clan to make it through winter. Now he chose to stay behind and help the Normans, sending Sean on ahead to see to everything. Not Tadhg’s finest hour and certainly not anything Sean wanted to take on.
Calum would make it over to Eire before him, making his way along the coast to Drogheda. He was a good man. Very level-headed. Tadhg had arranged for food from the neighboring O’Brien and Calum would be there to help manage the stores. Sean wasn’t really needed for any of that. He’d only be needed for defense. Clans didn’t attack during winter months.
Sean wasn’t good with words. It wasn’t worth the effort. Maybe that’s what Brighit had against him. He wasn’t smooth like her brother, Tadhg. All the MacNaughtons had that polished way about them.
Sean was a man of action. And if muscle and force were needed, even better. It worked best for him. He saw no reason to change that, especially now since the love of his life had thrown him over for another.
That one—Sir Peter of Normandy—seemed polished as well. He knew the right words to say. Even had the calmness to listen rather than react. Nothing like Sean. If that’s what Brighit had looked for in a husband, it was a good thing they hadn’t married. His passion ran too deep, took over too often, to wait around for things to happen.
“Good riddance to ye, Brighit.” Sean mumbled the words aloud perhaps hoping to rid her from his mind by the power of his declaration. His eyes soon drifted closed and he was again asleep. A peaceful sleep not disturbed by dreams and beautiful women that needed his help.
Bleary-eyed, Thomasina stumbled through the woods with an urgent need to see to nature’s call. Damn trews. Untie this. Yank at that. Shimmy this down. Ah, to be in a dress again. She never thought she’d be thinking that.
The birds had awoken her with their incessant chatter and followed her, growing even louder, as she’d followed the path. Another thing she didn’t have in the cave—the loud sound of nature. Why did she ever leave there?
“Tommy,” Sean bellowed from the camp.
He’d been fast asleep, snoring even, when she’d awoken.
“Tommy!” He moved closer and his tone sounded urgent. She fumbled with the foreign clothing.
“I’ll be back anon,” she said over her shoulder.
She pulled at the tie. Damn thing was wet. How did men manage this? Oh that’s right. Different appendages.
“Where have ye gone to?”
“I am right here.” She sounded irritated. Good. She tried again to loop the damp material only to find her leine had not cleared the top of her trews. Damn, but she’d never complain about a dress again. “Give me one moment.”
The rustling of the trees indicated he was just behind her.
“Wait!” She turned away from the sounds, dropping her trews to yank the twisted top out.
What sounded suspiciously like a groan of appreciation sounded in her ears. With trembling hands, she fought to right her clothing and refused to acknowledge what may have just happened. With a final tug on the bow at her waist, she stiffened her shoulders and took a deep breath before facing him.
Finding his back to her was a surprise. He looked as if he were giving her privacy until she recognized the telltale trickle of water. Sean was urinating.
“Sorry to interrupt ye, lad.” His voice sounded strained. “I could not find the horse—”
She clasped her hand over her mouth to cover her gasp.
“—and my first reaction was that ye’d taken yer horse and left me here.”
He turned to face her. Everything thankfully put back in its place. He smiled.
“Most happy to see ye had nae such ideas.”
She forced her head left then right. “Nae such idea.”
Sean ran his eyes over her in that way that set her heart to fluttering. She swallowed hard but refused to confirm all was decently covered. It had to be. His expression when his eyes returned to her face said as much.
“Sorry to interrupt ye,” he said.
“Nae problem. I was—” What was it her brother always said? “—just finishing up.”
Sean pressed his lips into a lopsided grin. “Shall we break our fast before we head off?”
He said it like a question but his large, tanned hand directing her to precede him down the path certainly left her without an option. With Sean following close behind, she returned to the camp, thanking God in heaven that her nakedness had not been seen by this man. He was quite disturbing enough without him having that knowledge of her.