Page 42 of The Beast's Bride
Rhona drew herself up, turning back to Taran. “He wouldn’t beat me.”
Taran raised an eyebrow. “He raised a hand to ye after ye escaped,” he reminded her. “Do ye wish to test him?”
Rhona’s pulse quickened. She wanted to deny it, yet she remembered how he’d struck her after her failed escape. She saw too the truth of the situation on Taran’s face. She could bear the pain of being whipped, but the humiliation of it—for her father usually administered his floggings in front of an audience—would be difficult to recover from. She’d never be able to hold her head high inside this keep again.
And yet the thought of consummating this marriage, with this big, intimidating man before her, terrified her.
Rhona raised her goblet to her lips and took a large gulp of wine. She couldn’t do it.
“Ye look terrified,” Taran observed, his voice rueful. “Am I really such an ogre?”
Rhona gave a nervous laugh and took another sip of wine. “No, but I’m a maid … and this situation is …”
“Difficult.”
She snorted. “Ye are the master of understatement tonight.”
His mouth curved into a rare smile. “What if we made a game of it?”
Rhona stilled, gaze narrowing. “What?”
His smile faded, and his ice-blue eyes grew intense. “If we are to lie together tonight, we need to take things slowly, to ease into it.”
Silence fell between them. Rhona’s heart started to hammer. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was leading them in. She was entering never-explored territory.
After a few moments Taran continued. “Let us play a game of riddles. Ye ask me one. If I answer it incorrectly, I must take off an item of clothing.”
Rhona inhaled sharply. “And what if ye get it right?”
“Thenyemust remove a garment of my choosing.”
Rhona’s mouth had gone dry, her breathing shallow. “I don’t like the sound of this game.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do ye have a better one in mind?”
“Knucklebones.”
He snorted. “I’d beat ye.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure … I’m a fiend at knucklebones.”
“Let’s play riddles … a game that requires us to think,” he replied. “Knucklebones is boring.”
The directness of his gaze made Rhona’s body grow warm, and her stomach dipped and pitched as if she perched upon a high swing. Such a game was too intimate, too risky—and yet an unexpected thrill of excitement went through her.
She raised her chin to meet his gaze. Drawing her shoulders back, Rhona inhaled deeply. “Very well. Who goes first?”
Chapter Nineteen
Riddles
SHE DIDN’T LIKE this game. It moved too quickly.
They’d only been playing it a short while and already they were both down to their last items of clothing. Rhona wore nothing but her long léine. Taran on the other hand was naked save for his braies.
The lamplight played across the muscular lines of his bare chest. Rhona remembered what those ladies in the stands had said about his body during the games, and felt heat rise, flowering across her chest and up her neck. They’d been crude, but they’d both been right—Taran MacKinnon’s naked body was magnificent to gaze upon.
“I don’t like riddles,” she protested as she took off the necklace she’d worn for the handfasting. Gold and amber, it had once belonged to her mother. Her hands were trembling slightly, and it took her an age to unclasp the necklace. “It isn’t fair anyway—men have more items of clothing to take off.”
