Page 35 of The Wrong Bride
His gray eyes were not so wintry when he looked upon her, and they strangely drew her in with a feeling of intimacy and focus she wasn’t used to experiencing with men. She pulled away, uncomfortable.
He didn’t protest, just went back to eating, and she did the same. For several long minutes, the silence seemed to stretch into a tension she’d only ever felt with him. He was watching her too closely, seeing things about her, intimate things, she hadn’t known she could feel. She didn’t want to feel anything but loathing for him after how he’d forced her from her family against her will.
But . . . none of that seemed to matter where her body was concerned. She could hear him breathing, knew that it quickened, which somehow made her own lungs labor. The weight of his stare was like a caress, and gooseflesh spread across her skin. She shivered.
“Are ye cold?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. It was as if her lips remembered the feel of his upon them, and she could not forget the sight of his naked chest.
She forced herself to remember her plight. “I’ve thought of a way I could prove my identity to you.”
He groaned and took a deep drink.
“Send a man to my uncle’s castle. Discover that Cat is in England, that she is my cousin.”
“What would that prove? I already knew ye were in England. And I won’t be risking the life of my man by sniffing around Duff lands.”
“But you said this marriage was a bridge between clans. Surely he’d be safe—”
“Nay, I’ll not do it, Riona. Stop trying to change what cannot be changed.”
She jumped to her feet. “I—I should like to retire,” she said furiously.
“I shall bathe while ye prepare for bed.”
He bowed and retreated to his own chamber before she could speak. She frowned at the closed door. What did he mean bythat?
For just a moment, she contemplated surprising him at his bath, so he could see how it felt. And then she realized he would love nothing better. She would stay far away from his chambers.
Just when she was about to climb into her cozy box-bed, Mrs. Wallace knocked and entered, looking . . . uncomfortable.
Riona frowned. “Mrs. Wallace? Is something wrong?”
“Nay, my lady, at least . . . I don’t think so. Himself asked me to wait here for him.”
When the housekeeper kept her eyes downcast, Riona became truly concerned. They didn’t have long to wait. McCallum entered from the dressing room, wearing a shirt and breeches, and carrying a length of rope.
Riona’s lips parted with distress. “What isthatfor?” she demanded.
“Since ye’ve heard of handfasting, I thought I’d introduce ye to another Highland tradition. Bundling.”
She blinked at him. “But—but—”
“Ye’ve not heard of it? ’Twas even common in parts of England. During courtship, the woman’s legs are tied together, and the two lovers lie talking in bed getting to know each other.”
“I’ve heard of bundling!” she finally cried. “But I never thought I’d be part of it. It is such a—a country custom.”
“Ye want to know me better, and I want to knowyou.I thought ye’d be most comfortable with this.” His voice deepened as he came closer. “Climb into bed, lass, and I’ll tie ye up.”
Short of running screaming into the hall, what could she do? Fuming, she sat down on the edge of the bed and watched McCallum kneel before her and remove her mules.
Mrs. Wallace took a deep breath, and as if to distract Riona, said, “Now, this is a proper courtship, my lady, the one ye couldn’t have because of that silly contract. Himself has the best intentions.”
Riona clenched her jaw and said nothing, because she wasn’t sure McCallum’s motives were all that pure, at least not tonight. After this, Mrs. Wallace surely couldn’t see him as her little lad, come home to settle down and do his duty.
Oh, she was just trying to distract herself from feeling McCallum’s hands on her bare ankles. His skin was rough with calluses, something she already knew and which . . . didn’t bother her. He had a man’s hands—and she saw that those hands now had abrasions and cuts from the afternoon’s training. And, of course, he had no problem touching her with conviction because he always believed he was right.
At last he straightened and glanced at the housekeeper. “Thank ye for being a witness, Mrs. Wallace, should there be a question about this someday.”
