Page 31 of When a Warrior Woos a Lass
Alex narrowed his eyes. “Aye. The man is nae quick to learn from his mistakes. We’ll be at it again on the morrow.”
Donald chuckled. “That explains yer sour mood.”
“Amongst other things,” Alex admitted, holding Lena’s probing gaze. “Dunnae ye have somewhere pressing to be, Donald?”
“Och, nay,” the man responded, making Alex want to throttle him.
Alex’s patience snapped. “Be gone,” he growled, to which Donald complied with a hearty laugh.
Lena scowled at Alex, and when they were alone, she set her hands to her hips. “That was verra rude of ye.”
“Nay, it was deliberately insolent of Donald. He kenned I wished him to depart.”
“Perchance I did nae wish it,” she retorted. “Ye did actually interrupt my conversation with him.”
“And what, pray tell, were the two of ye conversing about that so amused ye?” he asked, sliding a finger down the expanse of exposed flesh on her arm.
She shivered but said, “Ye as a lad. He was telling me stories of the mischief ye found yerself in the midst of. Like the time ye wanted to see what would happen if ye stuck yer hand inside a hornet nest.”
Alex seized on his opportunity to use his own foolishness to warn her gently. “Oh aye. That was nae wise. My hand was swollen for so long that I almost lost the use of my fingers.”
“Oh!” she gasped. “Donald did nae tell me that part.”
Looking around, he found most of his clan now seated, and many staring at him and Lena. With a flourish of his hand, he bid them, “By all means, commence supper.” He then took Lena by the elbow and led her just outside the door to the great hall, wishing for discretion. Once the door closed, he spoke. “I was a bold lad, aye, but foolish. It took me some years to learn when to be bold and when to be careful.”
Lena snorted and gave him a disbelieving look. “As far as I’ve seen since my return to my family, ye are always bold.”
“I make it look so, Lena,” he said. “But I always weigh the risk of injury, and I ken well when to seek aid. And I dunnae need aid now.”
She frowned. “What do ye mean? Aid with what?”
He rolled his shoulders, seeking to ease his tension while also taking a moment to find the best words so he would not anger his wife, yet he would let her know he expected her not to engage in arguments on his behalf. “I dunnae need ye to defend me against men who are vexed with me.”
Her mouth parted, then settled into a grim line. “I see the kitchen ladies have been gossiping about this afternoon.”
“Singing yer praises is more like it,” he said.
She scowled. “They may have made it sound that way to ye, but they were gossiping.”
He sighed. “I’ll nae argue that point. Wife. I ken well that Hamish is vexed with the lot I have given him, but I have control of Hamish.”
“Do ye?” she challenged, arching her brows high.
“Aye, I do,” he snapped, not liking her tone. He needed absolute control and authority. That’s how he had led his life since the day Gillis had stripped Alex of his control. It was how he managed his ghosts in the daytime, and he could not abide less than that.
A peeved look settled on Lena’s face. “How exactly do ye have control of Hamish?” she demanded.
“I am watching him to see if he accepts his place in the clan now.”
“Then ye are nae watching carefully enough,” she bit out. Her face immediately softened, and she placed a hand on his arm. His anger had spiked, but at her touch, it vanished with a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said, the edge in her voice gone. “I dunnae mean to quarrel.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close until they were pressed together chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Her softness and smell enticed him like nothing he’d ever known. “I dunnae wish to quarrel, either,” he said, unable to resist brushing her hair away from her neck and placing what was supposed to be a chaste kiss there, but when she gave a little mewling sigh of pleasure, he lifted her off her feet and drew her into a dark corner under the stairs to deepen the kiss. Never had he abandoned the leashed restraint he maintained over himself in the daytime. Women had always been for dark, nightly pleasures, but the pleasure Lena brought to him burned bright like a torch to light his way. He wanted to take her and wrap himself around her, hold her tight, and never release her. She made his control disappear and his heart thud painfully against his ribs. It was both exhilarating and troubling. He could not forget the limits of what he could give.
Still, in this moment, with sleep now very far from his mind, he desired to feast on his wife instead of food. “Lena?”
“Aye,” she replied, her voice husky. “Let us forget supper and go to my bedchamber.”
“Ye kenned my thoughts before I voiced them,” he replied, his body already strumming with anticipation of joining with his wife.
