She couldn’t know that her request to snuff the candle was meaningless. That he could see her in the darkness. He could study her soft features as intently as he wanted. And he wanted. The instant she’d opened her door, with her wild copper curls glowing in the light of a lone candle, his body had responded to her. He’d initially planned on abandoning the babe to her care with some coin and being about his business. Instead, he was furiously trying to figure out how he’d let himself become folded into this ridiculous chair. It had to be her voice. Soft and husky, with a touch of rasp escaping through a lilting Scots accent, her voice held him in a thrall that was at once mystifying and disturbing. Until now, he’d never met a woman who’d dared argue with him, and this lady had yet to offer him an agreeable word. Even still, her voice thrummed a vibration so deep within him that his Berserker purred with it. And demanded more. She shrugged off the fur that protected her from his view and it pooled around her.
