Page 18 of The Wrong Bride
CHAPTER 5
It took Hugh a long time to fall asleep, though he knew he’d successfully convinced Riona otherwise. Her lithe body had barely dented the mattress, but he felt the fight finally go out of her as she slipped into sleep, and some of his own tension eased. Listening to her even breathing, he imagined the future, when the worst of this marriage battle was behind him. Would he feel at peace when he lawfully lay beside her? Would he ever find a way to convince her that he would make an honorable husband? Or would his past come between them in the end?
It had been strange to discuss the things he’d done in his youth with another person, especially the one who would be his wife. He’d kept some of it to himself, which could be a mistake, considering what she might hear from his clansmen. But he didn’t want to scare her off any more than he already had.
But somehow he must have slept—and slept deeply, a rarity for him—because he came awake to the sensation of soft warmth along his side and the silkiness of bare, feminine legs entwined with his. Without moving, he opened his eyes to see that somehow in the night, Riona had pressed herself along his side, pillowed her head on his shoulder. Her hair was like another blanket along his chest and arm, and she must have unconsciously felt the same heat, for the bedclothes were lowered around both of their waists.
He hadn’t been able to get much of a glimpse of her nightshift, not with the way her gaze had been shooting daggers at him. He’d spent the evening avoiding looking below her neck; her face was captivating enough.
But now he could look his fill, at least of her breasts, so, being but a man, he did. He could feel the soft roundness of them against his own chest, the gentle pressure as her breathing deepened and then let out. The nightshift was caught beneath her, pulling the fabric tight so that he could see the vague outline of her nipple. He ached to touch and caress and give her the pleasure that he knew would make her see that they would have a good marriage.
But she wouldn’t see such an intrusion that way. So he fisted one hand in the counterpane to control his urges. He lay still, listening to the sounds ofthe birds beginning to awaken before dawn, then dozed briefly, more content and relaxed than he’d been in a long, long time.
He felt her stir before he heard her. She arched slowly against him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep from pulling her beneath him, from settling between her legs where he wanted to be. Those legs moved against his, bare skin on bare skin, her thigh creeping up along his. Her soft, sleepy moan made him regret the months that had passed since he’d last known a woman’s bed.
And then she went all stiff with awareness. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, although it was difficult to lie still when he could feel her breathing increase with agitation, and that only made her breasts seem as if to caress him.
She raised herself up slowly on one elbow, her hair sliding against him like the fan of a flirtatious woman. He regretted the loss of her touch acutely, but she didn’t move completely away. What was she doing?
And at last he opened his eyes and saw that she studied him with suspicion, even as her eyes slowly widened.
“Ye can’t get enough of me, lass?” he asked with satisfaction, knowing it would be the wrong thing to say, but unable to help himself.
With a groan she tried to push away from him. “How dare you! Let me go! I shall scream!”
He caught her flailing arms. “Enough. I did not do this. I seem to remember sleeping apart from ye. Surely it was your body that betrayed ye.”
When she groaned, he let her go, then swung his legs over the side and stood up. He arched and stretched, feeling well-rested for the first time in days. Glancing over his shoulder, he found her once again with the counterpane pulled to her chin, glaring at him.
“I need some privacy,” she insisted.
“And when Samuel arrives, I’ll give ye some. Until then, be patient.”
He opened the door, found a pile of cleaned clothing, and brought it inside to dress. Just as he finished, someone knocked, and he called entrance.
“McCallum!” Riona cried, outraged, even as she yanked the counterpane to her nose.
He ignored her.
Samuel stepped inside, and his eyes went wide at the pretty image Riona made in bed. “Uh . . . good morning. Breakfast will be brought up soon.”
“Good,” Hugh said. “Can ye remain outside the door while I see to our departure and Riona dresses?”
“Of course.”
Samuel seemed eager to be away from them, and Hugh shook his head. When he stepped into the corridor himself, he heard something hit the door behind him.
Samuel eyed him. “Did ye bed her?”
“Nay, but I wasn’t about to sleep on the floor. I slept well, and I think she did, too, which is part of the reason she’s upset.”
“I saw a tub . . .”
“I turned my back while she bathed, like a gentleman. And when it was my turn, ’twas refreshing.”
“I bet that went well.”
“’Twas . . . enlightening.”
