Page 19 of Love Beyond Time
I started to correct him, but quickly remembered that my name while I was in a coma was Blaire, not Bri. Instead I turned to him as he gently lay his hand upon my thigh and smiled as sweetly as I could.
I expected a smile in return, but instead I was rewarded with the same irritated expression I had seen right after the wedding. He stared at me briefly, ice shooting from his eyes, and then stood abruptly, pulling me up with him.
“Are ye ready to retire, lass? I know ye must be tired.”
I nodded as he quickly led me away from the dancing crowd.
I tried to keep pace with his stride, but the bottom of my dress kept getting in the way and instead I stumbled along, tripping with every other step. Each time I almost hit the ground, I found myself yanked up by his quick hands.Couldn’t a girl make herself graceful in her own coma?Not that it was surprising, I didn’t have much real-life experience when it came to grace, so I was certain my brain found it hard to dream up.
There was anger in the way he gripped me, which I couldn’t understand. What could I have possibly done to upset him? This was surely not the best way to start out a marriage. Perhaps this Blaire had done something before I arrived for which I was about to receive the punishment.
He continued his relentless pace, and as I blundered along behind him I realized that this didn’t seem like something I would dream. Scottish castle, yes. Scottish wedding, yes. Gorgeous husband, yes. Angry, Scottish brute . . . not so much.
The realization frightened me, and once I knew we were far enough away from the crowd to no longer be noticed, I jerked my hand away with all the force I could muster, causing him to release his grip.
“What are you doing?” I stopped walking and shook out my hand as I glared back at him, completely forgetting to speak in a Scottish accent. I didn’t care. My wrist was hurting, and I was frightened by the look in his eyes.
I felt my back press into the stone wall of the castle behind me, and he was on me before I had a chance to protest. His hands gripped my shoulders, effectively pinning me to the wall, and his nose was but a hair’s width from my own as he growled into my face.
“What am I doing? What about ye, Blaire? Ye have been moping about this castle since ye arrived, making no secret about how much ye detest me, and now ye show up at our wedding, smiling like a wee fool! Do ye think that ye can love me out of doors and then reject me when we’re alone? I already told ye once, Blaire, I’ll do right by ye, but I won’t be toyed with, Do ye understand, lass?”
My head was pounding as I watched him rant. He was angry, but there was more than just anger in his eyes. Confusion? Frustration? I couldn’t tell.
I didn’t understand much of what he was saying, and Mary’s story, the little she had explained, wasn’t coming to mind as I stood there with the muscles beneath his clothes pressed against my chest. His breath was sweet and warm against my face, and when he stopped talking I unthinkingly leaned forward and pressed my lips against his.
His response was immediate. His hands moved from my shoulders to the sides of my face as he cupped my cheeks in an effort to get closer. He growled into my mouth as his tongue sought entry, and I willingly opened myself up to him. His teeth grazed my lips, and I got the feeling that he was struggling to control his anger.
The painfully exquisite tug of his teeth on my lower lip caused my legs to turn to jelly as I melted against him, moving my lips against his in a furious dance of give-and-take. I heard myself moan as I pushed my body more tightly against him.
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving me wanting and confused. He slid his hands to my shoulders, effectively pinning me to the stone wall and holding me at arm’s length away from him.
“Doona do that again, lass.” He paused to catch his breath and removed his left hand to run it through his hair. “Next time ye do something like that to me, I willna be stopping myself, and ye have already made it clear ye want nothing to do with me.”
The words escaped my mouth before I had time to rein them in. It was my dream after all. I could do what I wanted. “Don’t then.”
He stretched his arms out farther, locking his elbows into place and stared back at me. “What did ye just say, lass?”
Blood ran to my cheeks as embarrassment set in. I looked down and tried to remember the accent before I continued. It was too late to back down now. “Then, doona stop.” The words came out breathlessly, and in an uncharacteristic show of courage I reached up to pull his hand from my shoulder as I placed it on my breast. I shyly glanced up at him, “Please.”
He groaned and reached to grab my hand, pulling me swiftly along behind him once again.
* * *
The stranger slowly sat down his goblet, made his excuses to the villagers surrounding him and walked to the side of the castle, watching until he was sure the laird and his new wife had made their way up to their bedchamber.
He’d been given only two orders as he’d left Ramsay’s quarters; not be found out as a stranger at the wedding and to wait until the appropriate time to set the fire.
Pivoting his head, the stranger made sure all eyes around him were diverted elsewhere as he worked one of the flaming rods from their post and turned the flame so that it lay on the ground, slowly scorching and taking root over the grass that sat underneath its light.
Once the ground slowly caught flame, the stranger turned and walked away, mounting the horse he’d tied far away from everyone’s sight and rode as quickly as he could away from Conall Castle.
Chapter 12
I stumbled along as we entered the castle’s main doors, cursing the length of my dress as I went. He was moving just as quickly as he had before, and taking the stairs at this pace proved impossible. I slipped, almost busting my lip against the cold stone steps.
I yelped, but before the impact his hands were around my waist, lifting me off the floor.
“Sorry, lass.” He bent his head to plant a quick kiss on my lips as he carried me up the staircase.
