Page 67 of The Wrong Bride
He inhaled swiftly. “Riona, don’t start what ye don’t intend to finish.”
“Are you going to your room to . . . finish?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Let me help.”
And without waiting for his answer, she pushed his shirt up and began to unbutton his breeches.To her surprise, she thought she felt the briefest tremble, but he mastered himself. She folded back the flap and saw that he’d worn no drawers. In the shadows, she could see little except the dark silhouette of his penis. So she touched it, heard him gasp, felt the jump of his response. He was so very hard and hot and yet silky. She caressed him, exploring, until he spoke between gritted teeth.
“Like this.”
He took her hand and fisted it around him and then showed her how to move. With her hand she pleasured him, with her mouth she kissed him, and it wasn’t long before he spilled his seed across his stomach, his body jerking as hers had. She let go and stared at what she’d done, shocked now that the passion had ebbed, that she could so lose herself and forget her determination to resist. Or was it because he was leaving to go against another clan, where dangerous things could happen?
Dazed, she withdrew mentally when he stood up to clean himself. Turning her back, she felt unable to face him, to face that she’d let their relationship go another step further. He folded himself in behind her, his hips against hers, his arm around her waist. As he fell asleep, his hand cupped her breast as if it were the most natural thing possible.
And she bit her lip and tried not to shake with her crying.
CHAPTER 18
Hugh left before dawn for the raid on the Buchanans. He didn’t wake her up, and Riona pretended she was asleep, which proved difficult when he gently touched her head before leaving.
Don’t die, she thought with a prayer,don’t die!
When he’d gone, she questioned herself. She hadn’t been able to convince him that her denial of marriage was more than a foolish girl afraid of being married. So was she just accepting what happened to her, passively waiting until it was too late, until he hated himself—and her—for breaking the contract?
There was no one to help her make Hugh see the truth. Her last hope had been Dermot, but now she didn’t know if she could trust him not to use this new knowledge against Hugh, have him ousted as the chief before he’d been formally inaugurated. Riona didn’t know if she could live with such an outcome.
She bathed and dressed and tried to get through the day. The castle was abnormally quiet, a few servants going about their chores, but everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. It felt . . . oppressive and frightening. Every time she looked in on Lady McCallum, her head was bowed over her rosary beads, and after a while, her fear secreted its way into Riona. To clear her head, Riona took a walk outside, where tasks went on in the courtyard, but without the cheerful conversations or occasional hail across the yard.
She, Maggie, and Lady McCallum were just sitting down to dinner in a mostly deserted great hall when a clansman ran through the open double doors.
“Lady Riona, the watchmen have seen mounted men approaching. Samuel told me to tell ye.”
Riona ran, Maggie behind her, practically stumbling down the outdoor stairs that led to the courtyard. Samuel waited there, arms folded across his chest, his normally cheerful expression replaced by one as immobile as stone.
Riona skidded to a stop next to him, then stared at the open gatehouse. “Do you . . . lower the portcullis, in case it isn’t them?”
“’Tis them,” he said with cool assurance. “I could see our tartan.”
She eyed him, not used to seeing Samuel like this. But he hadn’t been able to watch over Hugh,his position these last ten years. He’d been left to sit with the women, and apparently, he hadn’t appreciated it, though he’d let no clue show in front of Hugh, Riona remembered.
Mounted men suddenly thundered beneath the gatehouse, then into the upper courtyard, their horses tossing their heads with excitement. She caught flashes of grins, heard excited laughter, saw no barebacked horses absent a rider. She tried to calm herself, even as her heart was pounding so hard she felt a little weak.
Samuel stared down at the hand she’d put on his arm without realizing it.
She pulled away. “Forgive me,” she called over the sound of men and horses.
He nodded, but didn’t give her his usual grin, probably because Hugh had seen them. Hugh rode toward them, and Riona couldn’t help her smile of welcome, even as she looked him over for injury, but saw none. His bare knees flashed beneath his plaid as he dismounted. He wore a bright blue coat, and with his black and red plaid, he looked as colorful as a king. But she hung back and let Samuel do the talking.
“It went well?” Samuel asked.
Hugh nodded. “Every cow accounted for and no one injured. The Buchanans fled like cowards before us.”
Relief flooded through Riona, making her kneestremble with weakness. Dermot and Alasdair dismounted behind Hugh, and she felt a little amazed to see the two of them smiling as they talked to each other. Nothing like a little dangerous warfare to make men lose their scowls.
Dermot clapped a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “We will celebrate your bravery tonight and inaugurate ye as chief. The men are already gathering over this victory—’twill be the perfect time.”
Riona and Maggie exchanged wide-eyed glances.
