Page 95 of When A Laird Loves A Lady
As Iain wrapped Marion in his arms,she looked up at him. “What doesneo-bhriste lairdmean?”
She stared at him until he finallyanswered. “Unbroken laird. The men call me that because I’ve never beendefeated in battle.”
He sounded as if he didn’t like it,which confused her. “You don’t care for it?”
“Nay. I think it’s bad fortune togive yerself such a title, as though I’m asking for God to strike me down forbeing too proud.”
Marion nodded. “If I had a coin,I’d give it to you for an indulgence.”
Iain roared with laughter until hecomplained that his stomach hurt.
Later that night, after a quietgame of chess, Marion studied the candlelit bedchamber and a thought came toher. “Dance with me, Iain,” she said, wanting to forget her heartache from theloss of their babe in his arms.
“I dunnae ken how.”
“You don’t know how to dance?” sherepeated, stunned.
He smirked at her. “Dancing is naeon the list of things to teach a young Scottish lad who is to be laird.”
She nodded, understanding, but…“Surely you danced with Catriona?”
“Nay,” he responded, his usualhaunted look no longer in his eyes, to her relief. “Catriona did nae care todance.”
“I’ll teach you!” Marion exclaimed.
He looked as if he’d rather eatdirt, which made her burst into laughter. “Please,” she begged. “It will belovely and will make me so happy.”
“It will make ye happy?”
She nodded, eager to start.
“If ye feel tired, ye must tellme,” he ordered.
“I vow it, but I truly do feelquite well.”
He helped her up, and they moved tothe middle of the bedchamber where she taught him the steps of a country-dance.The fire crackled and roared in the grate, giving the room a toasty warmth. Bythe time she arranged them in their positions and showed him some stepsinvolved, they were both perspiring.
After they attempted to do thedance a few times, Iain pulled her into his arms. “I think we’d nae be boilingif we took off our clothes.”
His blue eyes caught her greenones, and the desire smoldering in his depths sent a shiver of awarenessthrough her of the powerful man that was her husband. He’d not tried to touchher in a physical way once since she’d lost the babe, and she’d been grateful,as her body had been sore and her heart raw. Her heart still ached, butsuddenly, with his warm hands pressed against her back and his hard body moldedto her, she longed for him to touch her as he had before. She wanted him tofill the emptiness inside of her with his love, with his body.
“I’ve a confession,” he said, hisvoice husky.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I only agreed to dance with ye soI could hold ye close like this. I’ve nay desire to learn to dance, but I’ve adeep ache to hold ye again.”
“I’ve the same ache,” she admitted.
His eyes widened a fraction. “Yedo?”
She nodded shyly. “I do, but I’mafraid.”
His gaze caressed her as his handcame to her face and did the same. “What are ye afraid of? That it will hurt?”
She shook her head. Fiona had toldher in a matter-of-fact way that because Marion had been so early in thepregnancy, there was no damage ofthatarea, so she could resume hermarital relations with Iain whenever she felt ready. “I’m afraid of becomingwith child again and losing it.”
Iain nodded. “I’m afraid of that,too.”
