Page 46 of The Wrong Bride
“I ken ye’re afraid to be married, but—”
She advanced on him and pointed a finger at his face. “I am not afraid of you, nor would I be afraid of a husband I chose. But I did not choose you!”
“Your father did, lass, and surely ye’re anobedientdaughter.”
Was hetauntingher now? His gaze was certainly sly enough.
With a frustrated groan, she grabbed the pot of soap off the stool and tossed it into the tub. It hit the water with a satisfying smack, splashing Hugh in the face. She turned to run toward the door, but he caught her skirts in his fist and pulled. She toppled right into the tub, landing bottom-first across his lap. Water sloshed out and splashed onto the rug all around them.
“Hugh!” she cried, flailing, trying to find a way to leverage herself out of the tub and away from his slippery, warm skin. But her lower legs dangled over the edge and water soaked her through the hips and up her torso.
With an arm across her body, he held her still. “No more squirming,” he said against her ear, his voice rumbling, “or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
She froze as she realized that right beneath her backside, she could feel the hard length of his erection. She couldn’t look at him, fully aware of a surge of pleasure and longing and an unbearable need to . . . squirm. A long, tense moment passed, with only the sound of water dripping, and both of them breathing shallow and fast.
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. His gaze was hard, a tic jumped in his jaw, and he was looking down at her chest. Following his line of sight, she realized her dressing gown had parted when he’d yanked on her garments. The only thingobscuring her nudity was a soaked nightshift that clung to her skin and starkly showed her nipples.
Before she could hide herself, he lifted her and covered her breast with his mouth, sucking on her right through her clothing. She cried out, but it wasn’t in fear or denial. A hot wash of passion overcame her, heating her face, her body, her blood. He took turns suckling and then nibbling her, holding her tightly against him, until she was a shuddering mass of need. Somehow her arms were around his head, holding her to him, making it far too obvious what she wanted.
And then he lifted his head and she dropped hers to kiss him, boldly slanting her mouth over his, as he’d taught her. For endless minutes they practically fed from each other, exploring with eagerness. She suckled his tongue; she tasted the whisky and didn’t even mind, for it was all a part of him. When she felt his hand cup her breast, she moaned into his mouth. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, plucked at it, then soothed it with a caress, leaving her trembling and gasping.
He broke away and kissed down her neck and found her breast again. She dropped her head back over the edge of the tub, which shamelessly thrust her chest higher.
He put his hand on her leg and slid it beneath her hem. “Come to bed with me, lass.”
Those words brought home the reality of whatshe was doing—what she was encouraging. She came upright so fast that more water surged onto the floor.
“No,” she said, her voice hoarse. She had to clear her throat to be louder. “No! Hugh, let me go. We aren’t married and we never will be. This is wrong.”
He kept his arms around her for too long, and she almost started struggling, but at last he released her. With a hand on her backside, he heaved her out. She stood bereft and lost on the rug, water dripping down her body, her wet clothes sodden. She shivered uncontrollably, too shocked to cry.
“Go get warm,” he said between clenched teeth. “I’ll not be joining ye tonight.”
She fled to the door, then paused and said over her shoulder, “I hope . . . I hope you are not jealous over Samuel. I would never use him against you.”
“Ye think I would punish an innocent man?”
“I don’t know. I just want you to know the truth, that he is protecting you.”
“Ye didn’t want to tell me the full truth a moment ago.”
She shivered. “I couldn’t let your loyal man be harmed. I lied to protect myself,” she said without thinking.
“Ye’re very good at that, are ye not?”
Why was it such a personal affront that this particular man thought her a liar? She opened the door, then slammed both it and the next door thatseparated them. In her own room, she stripped off her garments and toweled herself dry. Unbidden, images of him doing the same bombarded her. It was a long time before she fell asleep, and though it was summer, she felt cold without him beside her in bed.
RIONAcouldn’t remain inside the castle, where Mrs. Wallace was beginning to seek out her opinion on the running of the household, as if breaking the new wife in slowly. She wasn’t going to be in charge here and didn’t want to mislead the well-meaning housekeeper. And it was far too much of a lure, that her opinion counted, that she could make decisions.
The rain had stopped, and so she wandered from shop to shop in the lower yard, watching the craftsmen work, receiving the occasional confused or apprehensive stare in return. The clan didn’t know what she was doing—neither did she. Though she reminded herself she did have an idea to ask Dermot to go with her to convince Hugh, her plan seemed to be moving so slowly. She could never find time alone with him to build any sort of connection. So she floated through the day as if she were only waiting for what happened next, whether it was Hugh’s family arriving, word from the earl that sealed Hugh’s fate with his clan, or Hugh losing patience and taking her to wife. Shehated the waiting, without the ability to make her own choices. She’d spent too much of her life doing that.
And then she heard Hugh’s voice, and it was as if she was suddenly back in his room again, in his bath, his mouth so intimately giving her pleasure. He might as well have been touching her at that moment, so overwhelming was her body’s reaction.
But he wasn’t touching her. In fact, his voice was raised in anger. It made her shiver, and she saw more than one man glancing over his shoulder as if he didn’t want to be next in line. Her instinct was to run away, but that infuriated her, so she followed the sound of his voice to the stables and stood just outside the large double doors. She realized that Brendan was doing the same thing on the other side of the doors. She ducked back before he saw her.
“These stalls need to be raked out on a regular schedule,” Hugh ordered, “and I’ll not see ye feeding oats that have spoiled. I don’t know what ye thought ye could get away with under my father’s rule, but I demand a higher standard to benefit the beasts that serve us.”
He went on for far too long, until Riona began to think he was being unreasonable. She heard him stomp out of the stables and decided to stay hidden.
