Page 53 of The Winter Laird

“Ourbedchamber?”

They’d been sleeping in adjoining rooms, though the door between them remained firmly shut and locked. Bri thought the arrangement was perfect.

“It’s been brought to my attention that the clan suspects we are not…”

“Getting along,” Bri supplied. “Erin said as much to me the other day.”

“I believe the time has come to let everyone know we’ve gotten past our initial disagreements, my lady.” He offered her the bottle. “Perhaps we ought to begin tonight.”

She swallowed hard. “Well, that was the deal we made.”

“Aye.”

She pushed out a hard breath. “All right. Let’s do this.”

He cocked his head slightly, a small frown marring his face.

“What?” she asked, patting her hair. “Is something wrong?”

Slowly, he reached for a pin in her hair and gently wriggled it loose. “If a man were to abscond with his lady wife to the cellars, how would one expect her to look upon their return?”

Brianagh swallowed. “Um…mussed up?”

“Aye.” He slowly loosened another pin, then frowned again. “I’m afraid I am not mussing you enough. May I?” he asked with a vague gesture.

Well, it was only hair, she reasoned with herself. She gave him a brief nod, and he took the wine from her and placed it on the crate nearest him.

And, she continued to reason, it would certainly help convince everyone that she and Nioclas were past whatever differences they all thought the two of them had—

Her thoughts scattered as his lips descended on hers, gently at first, then with increased urgency. Desire welled up, and her arms snaked their way up his strong arms and over his shoulders. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she grazed her nails against his head; he made a noise and she responded as he swept his tongue inside her mouth. Though the kiss was unhurried, Brianagh felt a rush of adrenaline spike through her, and pressed herself more fully into his body. He wrapped both arms around her, lifting her slightly, and she deepened the kiss. He growled into her mouth, then gently bit her lip as he pulled back.

He held her at his eye level, both of them breathing hard, for a moment. He slid her down the length of his body, but before she could step away, he grasped her face in both of his hands, titled her head, and slanted his mouth over hers once more. She immediately opened to him, and their tongues danced together.

She couldn’t get enough, and at the moment, she didn’t care. He broke the kiss, but as she whimpered, he feathered kisses down her neck, sucking gently. He came to the top of her bodice and ran his tongue across the top of her breasts; she sucked in a breath, and pulled back.

She was on fire. She burned. She needed more, and she craved the feeling of desire.

Colin might’ve been right all along, she thought, dazed.Maybe passion does count for something.

“You look properly mussed now.”

She snapped back to the present.Colin.Her family. Her life back in the future.

She had to get back. And losing herself to this man, to this desire, was not the way to do it.

* * *

“Things lookedlike they went well for you last night during dinner, when you and MacWilliam disappeared for awhile.”

Brianagh stabbed her needle into the pillow, glaring at the brightly colored thread, and it landed nowhere near where she intended. “What is his game?”

Reilly carefully sharpened his sword at one of the tables in the great hall as she attempted some needlework. Erin suggested she practice her sewing on a pillow rather than clothing because, as she put it, “It’s less expensive to reuse the same pillow than to make the entire garrison new tunics.”

Bri conceded her point.

“I believe his goal is to ensure the good folks of this clan believe the two of you to be in love,” Reilly replied, holding his sword into the shaft of sunlight. It glinted satisfactorily. “Wasn’t that the point of your little bargain?”

“Yes.” Bri sulked. “But he kissed me like he meant it.”

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