“I’m not in the habit of undressing medieval women,” he growled, his voice guttural with desire as he impatiently tugged at her belt.

His plaid was hanging down to his waist, his broad upper torso completely naked and heavily muscled, blocking out the light from the fire. He looked powerful and imposing and…

Old fears rose unbidden as she lay beneath him, his solid weight pushing her into the bed, making her unable to move. The terror of being trapped and vulnerable and utterly helpless suddenly rushed through her, pricking her skin and quickening her breathing, urging Catherine either to fight or run.

She tried to do both and suddenly cried out and bucked beneath him, slapping at his hands as he tugged the hem of her blouse up over her breasts.

Chapter Twenty

Robbie reared backin surprise. “What the—Cat!” he growled, capturing her flailing hands, pinning them beside her head, and tightening his knees around her thighs.

She whimpered and frantically bucked beneath him, twisting to throw him off, kicking at his back, and turning her head to bite his arm.

“Catherine, no!” he shouted, using his weight to pin her down. “Easy,” he said more softly.

She was panting uncontrollably now, her desperation to get free closing her mind to all but her struggles. Robbie realized she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even see him anymore. She was completely consumed by the terror, her mindless panic dictating her actions. He immediately rolled off her and stood by the bed. She scrambled away in the opposite direction, grabbing her stick as she did, until she was standing with the bed between them, her weapon poised to strike.

He stepped toward her, his hands up in supplication, and she whimpered and scurried back until she was pressed up against the wall. Robbie stopped, tucked his hands behind his back, and went utterly still. “It’s okay, little Cat,” he whispered. “No one is going to hurt you.I’m not going to hurt you, Catherine.”

He fell silent after that, realizing there was nothing else he could say, and waited for his words to reach her. He watched her eyes, wide with terror in the firelight, and saw the moment she came back inside herself.

She blinked at him, standing there so small and vulnerable and scared, and started to tremble. Robbie stayed where he was, keeping his hands behind his back, and put every ounce of warmth he could muster into his smile.

It was a difficult task, considering the rage inside him right now—rage that warred between his desire to kill Ronald Daniels and his need to pull Catherine into his arms and never let her go.

But he stood his ground, not moving closer, not backing away, and continued to wait. It took her a good three minutes, though, before her shoulders stooped and her head dropped to stare at the floor. She suddenly threw down the stick, covered her face with her hands, and started to sob.

And still he didn’t move.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “What have I done?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he whispered back, “but I’m guessing that was the panic attack you mentioned this morning.”

Her shuddering sobs wracked her body as she stood there, her face buried in her hands.

“Catherine,” he said, gently but firmly. “Look at me.”

It took her another full minute to do as he asked, before she slowly lifted her head and blinked through her tears at him.

Robbie untucked his hands, settled his plaid back over his right shoulder so that most of his chest was covered, and then held his hands out from his sides, palms forward.

“Come here, Catherine,” he softly entreated. “Walk into my arms.”

She swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks, then balled her fists and shook her head as she looked at the floor again. “No,” she whispered. “I want you to leave. Please.

Just go find your wizard’s tree.”

“Nay, Catherine. A dozen warhorses couldn’t drag me out of this room. Not until you walk into my arms.”

“I—I can’t!” she cried, looking up. “Don’t you get it?” She angrily waved at the bed between them. “I can’t even make love to a man in my dreams without panicking!”

“But you can handle a hug,” he whispered. “Especially from someone you think you might love.”

“That was a mistake. I was just overwhelmed by what you did for Ian.”

“I can’t come to you, Catherine,” he said, widening his arms. “You must come to me.”

It took her an interminable measure of time to realize that he wasn’t leaving until she did. With her hands fisted and her tear-soaked eyes glaring at him, she finally marched over until her toes were nearly touching his.

“Hug me,” he whispered, having a moment’s hope that she might hit him instead.

She made a noise that sounded much like a kitten’s growl, reached her arms around his waist and hugged him fiercely and quickly. Then she tried to step back.

Robbie wrapped his arms around her and held her in place, using his chin to tuck her head against his chest. “Aye,” he said, sighing with relief. “You might not know if there’

s love between us, Catherine, but you can’t deny there’s trust.”

She slowly relaxed against him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She leaned her head back and looked up, her eyes swimming with turmoil. “I was doing okay until you… until I felt your weight pinning me… ” She buried her face in his chest.

“Daniels didn’t just beat you, did he?”

She said nothing, only shook her head against his plaid.

Robbie closed his eyes and clenched his teeth on his raging desire to kill Daniels. Now was not the time for anger. But the day would come when he would take the bastard by the throat and squeeze the life out of his soulless body. Robbie vowed to be smiling while he did.

He gently kissed the top of Catherine’s head, leaving his mouth to linger as he brushed her hair with his hand. He could feel her heart racing as she clutched the back of his plaid and her tears dampened the front of it. “Hush, little one, it’s going to be okay,” he promised. “You’ve fallen in love with a very patient man.”

Catherine muttered something Robbie couldn’t make out and sagged against him. He swept a hand under her knees and carried her to a chair by the fire, and sat down with her in his lap, then lifted her chin so she could see his smile. He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You must not dwell on what just happened, Cat. It’s of no consequence to us.”

“Of no… you’re saying that… I had a panic attack,” she finally said. “I was kissing you one minute and hitting you the next.”

“Aye, I noticed that.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb again. “I also noticed that you survived and walked right back into my arms when it was over.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder with a lingering sob. “I want to do it,” she whispered, staring into the darkness. “But I can’t.” She tilted her head just enough to look at him. “I might never be able to have a normal relationship with a man.”

He tapped her upturned nose. “Aye, you will. With this man,” he said, lifting her hand and holding it over his heart. “When you’re done thinking you might love me and are knowing it instead, your only thoughts will be of me.”

“Th-That’s an arrogant statement.”

“But a true one.” He cupped her face, gently kissed her gaping mouth, then smiled at her. “We have the rest of our lives, Catherine. We’ll eventually figure it out.”

She looked down at her hand on his chest, still covered with his. “Maybe that’s why I’m having this dream, to figure out that I shouldn’t want you.” She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears again. “When you kissed me in the barn and in the kitchen, I thought… I hoped that I… I thought I was okay. But tonight,” she said, pulling her hand away and gesturing toward the bed. “I finally realized that I’m not. This dream is trying to show me that I can’t hope to get involved with you. That I can’t want you.”