Page 8 of A Scot for Bethan
“Less conventional, yes, I will grant you that,” Bethan said in a rasp. Dear God, was he trying to kill her? He had not exactly paid her a compliment, had he? He had called her lips full and sensual, which was not the same at all, and already quite shocking. But he’d then told her he was imagining her on her knees in front of him, and that she had the perfect mouth to suck his cock. Indeed, this was a far cry from what he had told her in the bailey, but did he really imagine she would be pleased? “But not more welcome.”
It wasn’t, damn it, it was scandalous. Then why was the place between her legs throbbing? Bethan could not make sense of it. She should be outraged, not aroused! But it was as if he’d known that, though she had never dared do such a thing with her lovers, she had secretly fantasized about it. When Mistress Elen’s girls had first told her it was something men often requested from them, she had been appalled. But then she had been intrigued. Over the weeks, her curiosity had increased with alarming speed.
And now, she was convinced that, with this man, she would like to try.
Cameron’s eyes glittered with such intensity that she wondered if she had not spoken out loud. She made to avert her gaze and found that she could not.
“You’re right. I was unforgivably crude. Worry not, it won’t happen again, and we will never mention what happened at the tavern to anyone.” He paused, the very air between them sizzling. “Or discuss your skill at pleasing men ever again.”
“Thank you.” The gamble had paid off. Dougal would never hear about her nightly wanderings and ask awkward questions. Relief made her waver on her feet. But perhaps it was too premature because Cameron had not been the only person to see her last night. “Do you think your men can be trusted not to?—”
A sharp gesture of the hand interrupted her. “Don’t worry about that. You look nothing like you did last night. My men were drunk, they only saw you from behind, and this very briefly. They will never think this finely dressed woman is the dirty girl they mistook for a whore.” He tilted his head, seriousness returning. “I confess, however, that now I know who you are, I’m curious as to why you would go wandering alone at night dressed as a commoner.”
This was a fair question, Bethan had to admit, even if she would rather he had not asked it. “I had some business withMistress Elen, who works at the tavern. I thought it safer not to wear my usual clothes to go to her,” she said, hoping he would allow her to remain vague. “I was delayed because she was called away just after I’d arrived and I had to wait for her to return. I had not intended to be outside the castle walls after dark.”
“No, I imagine you had not.” He regarded her more closely. “I can only surmise that this mysterious business of yours was of vital importance. Not only was it irresponsible and unseemly of you to visit a stewhouse, but highly dangerous, as you saw. It could all too easily have ended up badly. I cannot help but wonder if a man was involved.”
Oh, he didn’t know the half of it. Despite the very private nature of the accusations, accusations she knew she should have denied, she didn’t say anything, because he was right. Her business with Mistress Elen had everything to do with her relationship with a man. Or rather, men. She’d had more than one lover in the past year.
An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Bethan knew she should leave. The meeting was over, and Cameron had just made her feel bad about herself. There was nothing to be gained by remaining any longer, except perhaps more humiliation.
“I think it is time for me to get my things ready,” she whispered. For a moment, lost in the most disconcerting discussion of her life, she had quite forgotten what was really at stake. “I assume we are to leave for Scotland without delay?”
“We will be ready to leave as soon as you are,” he confirmed.
“Very well.” Sick to her stomach, she turned to the door. This was it, her last moments at Castell Esgyrn. How was she to bear the departure?
“Wait,” Cameron called from behind her. “Before you go, may I at least inquire about last night and ask if you encountered any difficulties after you’d left us?”
Bethan stopped in her tracks. After his barely veiled accusations about having a lover, this concern for her safety took her by surprise. Slowly, she turned to face him again. “No. I made it back to the castle just fine, as you can see.”
He nodded. “I can see that you are here. Whether you were assaulted or not on the way is more difficult to ascertain.”
He acted as if she was being deliberately evasive and there was genuine concern in his eyes. He really needed the reassurance. Bethan was moved by this proof of solicitude she had not expected. Perhaps the Campbell men were a more understanding breed than their fierce appearance led to suppose. With luck, Dougal would prove just as caring as his uncle. The thought was comforting.
“I… No. I was not bothered in any way,” she murmured. “I thank you for asking.”
“Good. Now go, I shall see to it that my men are ready to depart as soon as you are.”
Chapter Three
When the door closed on Bethan, Cameron took his first real breath since he’d seen her framed in the door at the foot of the keep earlier.
Bloody hell, was he dreaming or had all this really happened?
The whole morning had been a succession of surprises, some more pleasant than others.
The first one had been when a lady in a cream-colored dress had walked up to him with bold, deliberate strides. She had to be the most stunning woman he had ever seen, and he could not understand how that could be. Because if he’d been forced to describe her, nothing in his description would have made her stand out in any way. Her hair was a very common chestnut brown, and her eyes just a shade lighter. Her skin was neither pale nor tanned, and her figure completely average, neither slim nor curvy. And yet… And yet there were auburn streaks dancing in the chestnut tresses, like so many sparks of fire drawing the eye, the brown in her eyes was warm, and sprinkled with surprising green and amber flecks, her skin was smoothand flawless. As to her average figure… The assertive way she moved made it come alive. Her hips swayed in scandalous invitation, her breasts jutted forward, inviting a man’s caresses—hiscaresses.
He was still trying to put order to his thoughts when the second, and perhaps most unpleasant surprise of the day, had hit him. This beauty walking to him as if she’d been expecting him all along had to be Bethan ferch Morgan, her nephew’s betrothed.
Damn and blast!
How could any man be so cursed as to meet a woman who made his blood heat up and his brain scramble and then be told in the next breath that she was the last person he should take an interest in? What had he done to deserve this? Dougal would be stunned when he met the woman his father had arranged to marry him to all those years ago, the one he had barely spared a thought to in all that time. Even if he was not one to waste time admiring the female form, he would have no choice but to notice her eyes the shape and color of almonds, her wavy hair so lustrous it reminded him of a freshly shelled chestnut, and her red lips ready to be tasted in a slow kiss.
Cameron started.
Why was he looking at Bethan as if she were something to be devoured? Well, perhaps because shedidlook good enough to eat. His groin tightened at the idea of kissing her, then dropping to his knees to find out just how delicious she tasted. He guessed her lips and tongue would be sweet like honey and her soft folds as intoxicating as spiced cream. The impulse to run after her and beg her to open her legs for him shocked and worried him in equal measure. He could not think like that! This woman was about to be wed to his nephew, he should not be fantasizing about things only Dougal would ever be allowed to do to her.
