Page 40 of A Husband for Esyllt
They should what? Go before she asked to kiss him again? To forget about it? To leave before it was dark? But how could she leave in such a state?
“My hair,” she said, fingering the ribbon that had held her tresses in place. It had slid down and was not holding anything anymore. She could not get back to the castle like this and face everyone’s comments or worse, Matthew’s hawkish stare. He would no doubt ascribe some dark motives to a tryst in the woods with her husband.
He would remind her that he was watching her, he would accuse her of having led her husband right into the heart of the forest so that Welsh rebels could jump on him, or something equally ridiculous. He would ruin one of the most incredible moments of her life with his foul suspicions.
“What about your hair?” Connor asked slowly.
“I cannot be seen in such a state of disarray. It will look as if we had...”
She didn’t finish, and mercifully, he didn’t pass any comment, because theyhadrolled around on the ground and shared a passionate kiss. “Shall I braid it for you?” he asked instead.
“You?”
Esyllt almost laughed, all the tension in her body releasing in one exhale. This man, tall and broad, this warrior who dressed in chain mail and wielded swords as easily as she handled embroidering needles, was offering to do what her delicate lady-in-waiting usually did. The idea was too ludicrous by half. Then the laughter got stuck in her throat when she imagined him running his fingers through her hair. It would feel nothing like Seren’s perfunctory touch. It would make her want him to touch other parts of her.
Just like that, the tension between them was back.
“Yes, me,” Connor said, his voice deep. “You are forgetting I have a daughter. I cannot recall how many times I have been requested to impersonate a lady-in-waiting and adorn Jane’s hair. I have picked up one or two things along the way, you’ll be pleased to know.”
Her heart melted at the thought of him playing with his little girl’s hair. “I am sure that you make a very poor lady-in-waiting.”
He did not even flinch. “I would. I have yet to find a dress that can fit me.”
And just like that, she started laughing. It was not the first time Connor had displayed a propensity for mischief, but usually it expressed itself with Jane, Matthew, or one of his men, not her. But she needed to laugh right now, or she would end up throwing herself into his arms.
“Well, be that as it may, I have no intention of having my hair pulled when you cannot control your strength!”
He did not protest, or laugh. Instead he leaned toward her.
“I have absolute mastery over my strength, Esyllt, and I can control my fingers very well. Don’t you remember? I thought you had quite liked my caresses. And my intimate kisses.”
Her mouth fell open at the provocative words. Was he really reminding her of all he had done to her in bed? “You...”
“Yes, me. Your husband, the only man who has the right to give you such pleasure. I shall do it as often as you need me to.” Oh, now, he was just being cruel, by alluding to what they could do together. “So what say you. Are you ready to risk it? Shall I braid your hair, lady wife?”
She swallowed hard and then nodded, utterly under his spell. By now, she would have agreed to almost anything.
“Sit down.”
To Connor’s surprise, Esyllt obeyed without a word. She settled on the log he had indicated and waited for him to start seeing to her coiffure. He placed himself behind her, readying himself.
As soon as he buried his fingers into her hair, Connor understood that he had grossly underestimated the difficulty of the task. Not only was his wife’s hair nothing like his daughter’s but he was not usually distracted by lewd thoughts when he braided Jane’s hair. His body didn’t burn from the inside, his shaft didn’t pulse with need.
To add to his confusion, Esyllt sat rigidly on the piece of wood, as if she would bolt at any moment, when surely she should be melting under his touch. Seeing her fight the desire she felt for him was an unusual and unwelcome feeling. Connor was used to having women fawn over him. They wanted his body, his fortune, the prestige of an association with him—or all of this at once. As a consequence, they acted as if the sun had been created to shine over him alone.
He had never enjoyed such blatant seduction ploys, but to have a woman look at him with diffidence was no better. It was downright unpleasant, all the more so that Esyllt had no reason to fight her desire for him.
They were already married, and he knew her motives were pure, as she had nothing to gain by giving herself to him. Status, she had already had, as Lady Sheridan. His domains and possessions meant nothing to her, as they were in England, and prestige she did not care for. As to his body, she had every right to it already... and she wanted it, that made no doubt in his mind. But unlike the other women who were ready to doanything to find themselves under him, she did all she could to avoid finding herself in that position.
Rather than try to attract him, she did her best to keep him at bay. She wasn’t using her charms as a weapon; she seemed almost afraid of them. He hated this diffidence, but it also inflamed him.
It was a refreshing challenge to have to make a woman give in to him rather than find a way of refusing her advances without offending her, to make her understand that there was no shame in admitting what she felt for him. They were husband and wife, so they could indulge their senses as much as they wanted.
His other lovers had feigned attraction and used desire to stir him into proposal.
Esyllt felt desire for him and yet she resisted the attraction.
It made no sense.
