Page 12 of A Husband for Esyllt
He smiled as if he had understood exactly why she was amused. “I suppose you are,” he said, stretching as if to emphasize the difference in size between them. She gulped. Tall she may be, but he was so strong he could have lifted her one-handed. “How does it feel?”
“Odd,” she admitted in a croak.
He disposed of his tunic and hose swiftly and then, looking at her all the while, grabbed the back of his undershirt to lift it above his head. Oh, Lord. She had only ever seen her first husband naked on a handful of occasions and now she was wondering if her memory was not failing her. The two men’s bodies did not have much in common.
Gwyn’s chest had been nowhere near as broad, his stomach had been rounded, his legs thin and bowed and his manhood... Well. Evidently, nature was quite discriminating when she handed out masculine attributes. There were the reeds of this world and the mighty oaks.
She swallowed hard.
“I take it that youhaveseen a naked man before?” Connor asked, a smile floating on his lips. He had not missed her reaction. “You are no maiden and you have borne a child.”
“I have seen a man naked. But not... not you.” She knew she sounded breathless. But how could she not? A magnificent, naked man was standing right in front of her. Had she extended her arm she could have touched him. It was enough to make her light-headed.
“Shall I assume from the way you are blushing that you like what you see?”
Oh, he could. But she was not about to admit it out loud.
“It seems to me you are going to assume as much anyway so do not let me stop you, my lord.”
“A good, dutiful wife’s response,” he answered in a smirk. “I am pleased.”
Without further comment, he went to the bed and slipped under the covers. Esyllt looked around, unsure what to do. Though she was in her own bedchamber, she felt like the intruder. Should she get undressed? Slip under the covers and lie down next to him? To her relief, Connor did not demand she join him. It was as if he had already forgotten her existence. She waited, while the night’s silence wrapped around her.
A moment later, she understood he had fallen asleep.
Chapter Three
Unable to sleep with a stranger in her bed, even if he was her husband, even if he looked like a pagan god—or maybebecausehe looked like a pagan god—Esyllt wrapped herself into a blanket and went to the bay window to watch the starry night. What was she to do now? Who was this man she had married? Earlier that night she had told him to watch his back because she’d killed her first husband and here he was, naked, unprotected, in her bed, and so untroubled that he’d fallen asleep at a moment’s notice.
The night before she had tried to put him off and make him renounce their union, and here he was, her legally wed husband for all to see.
Everything she’d tried had been a spectacular failure and she had no other plan, so what was she to do now?
Esyllt stared through the window and into the darkness below. Though she’d been married for nearly a decade, she had never spent the night in the same bed as a man, much less one as young and attractive as the one currently taking all the space on her mattress. She could not deny being rather breathless at theidea of joining him, because that young and attractive man had every right to roll over to his side, take hold of her and impose his desire on her whether she wanted him to or not. He had said he would not, and he was currently asleep, but she could not be too cautious. If her arm brushed against his as she turned over, who knew what desire she might awaken in him.
A man was a man, and she had already seen that Connor Hunter was as virile as they came.
What would the next few weeks bring? How would she cope with being constantly on her guard? Would her new husband even stay at Castell Esgyrn? Perhaps in a few days he would return to England. Being married was one thing, living with his wife quite another. He might decide to return to his former life... his beloved brother... his mistresses...
When she tried to move her neck and felt naught but a stab of pain, Esyllt realized that she had fallen asleep on the hard stone seat with her head at an odd angle. Outside it was dark, even if the line above the horizon was slightly lighter. Dawn was still some time away.
Feeling chilled and stiff, she decided to risk lying in the bed a moment. After all, if she was careful, Connor might not notice she had joined him, and after a night spent on the cold bench in the bay window, she needed warmth and softness.
Silent as a shadow, she went to the side of the bed and watched him a moment. His beauty was even more glaring when his face was relaxed. In sleep hewasjust like a marble carving of a pagan god, one whose whole purpose was to lure mortal women to their doom. The idea that such a man was married to her, that she was not only allowed, but expected, to make love to him was nothing short of astounding. Pleasure had been the last thing Gruffydd had taken into account when choosing her husband, she knew, so it only made her feel all the luckier to be married to a man who appealed to her senses so.
When she approached the bed he did not even stir. He had not been lying when he’d claimed to be tired.
Esyllt could not resist the opportunity of taking a closer look at him while he was unaware of being observed. With the embers of the fire, she lit a tallow candle and tiptoed back to the bed. Holding it high, she illuminated the scene—and her heart skipped a beat. While she’d busied herself with the candle, the covers had slipped, revealing a long, muscular chest that seemed hewn out of stone.
Bathed in moonlight, her husband’s body had been spectacular. In the light of the candle, it seemed too perfect to be real. One arm was flung over his head in perfect abandon, the pose highlighting its perfect shape and the elegance of his hand. His lips were slightly parted and the muscles on his stomach twisted and corded every time he took a breath. Esyllt could not take her eyes from the sight, she could barely blink or breathe. The golden light of the flame did full justice to his beauty, filling every dip and hollow with velvety shadows, shadows she wanted to touch and lick.
Her eyes followed the line of dark hair that started just above his navel and disappeared under the covers. It looked soft, impossibly enticing. Heat bloomed in Esyllt’s veins and she bit back a moan of longing. Could she lean in and stroke it? Could she dip her head and kiss him while he was oblivious to his surroundings? Just when she opened her lips in anticipation for his taste, he moved and, jerked out of her contemplation, she almost dropped the candle. A drop of hot fat fell onto his naked torso.
It all happened in the blink of an eye.
All she saw was Connor rear up and grab her by the throat. The candle fell onto floor, plunging the world into darkness. Fortunately, the flame had been too feeble to set the rushes on fire, but the obscurity meant Connor would not see who she was.
“It’s only me, Esyllt!” she cried out in panic, clawing at the hand holding her by the neck.
