Page 63 of The Wrong Highlander (Highland Brides 7)

Conran glanced to him sharply, opened his mouth, closed it again and sighed. He knew exactly what project Aulay was referring to—bedding Evina so she knew it wasn’t the painful ordeal her first time had been. Unfortunately, he hadn’t got that far.

“He also said to tell ye if ye haven’t, then to get to it. He does no’ wish to see ye left at the altar by a runaway bride,” Geordie added.

Conran cursed under his breath, and turned to take the tray from Alick as he reached them.

“I got enough food for Evina too, and I got her mead and, you, ale,” Alick announced as he gave up the tray.

“Thank ye,” Conran said with sincerity, and turned to the door as Geordie opened it for him.

“Good luck, brother,” Geordie said as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Conran took several steps into the room with the food and then stopped, his gaze sliding from the bed to the table by the fire. There was already a tray on the table, he noted, and vaguely recalled Tildy bringing it in while Rory was working on him. It didn’t look like it had been touched and he supposed that meant that Evina hadn’t eaten anything either since his injury. Actually, he realized, while he’d broken his fast, she’d not even done that ere she was attacked. It was probably why she was still sleeping, he thought, and headed for the bed.

Conran set the tray on the bedside table and then eased to sit on the bed next to the pile of furs and considered the mound of coverings briefly before starting to remove them. Once down to just the linen, he paused. Evina was visible now. The linen started just below her chin and draped over her body, outlining her curves. Conran swallowed, and then grimaced as he was recalled to one of the other needs he’d become aware of when he woke. Thirst. Turning, he grabbed the nearest mug off the tray and raised it to his mouth. It was the ale, so he gulped a good amount of it down, and released a little sigh as he set the mug back.

He turned to peer at Evina again. She was quite lovely in sleep, Conran noted. Her stubborn little chin was more relaxed, and there was no sign of anger, impatience or fear shadowing her features. Although a lot of that had eased from her expression this last week since he’d started his wooing anyway. It hadn’t completely left her though. There had still been a hint of wariness about her and the occasional troubled look that had made him suspect she hadn’t quite resigned herself to marrying him.

Although, in truth, Conran didn’t want her resigned to the fact that she had to marry him. The more he got to know her, the more he found he actually wanted to marry Evina, and the more he wanted her to want to marry him. She fired his blood. The few lessons he’d managed regarding the bedding had left him aching and wanting, and he was eager to progress to the actual joining. He knew without a doubt that it would be good this time and that their marriage bed could be a place of pleasure.

But it was more than that. Conran actually liked the woman. He’d enjoyed the talks they’d had while playing games here in her room as she healed, and he’d come to admire her. She was smart, and brave, with a quirky sense of humor that he appreciated, and Conran had quickly concluded that they would deal well together once he got her past the fear of the marriage bed that their first time had created. It had quickly become clear to him that Evina threw herself into everything she did with passion and pleasure. That was part of the reason their first time in the clearing had been such a debacle. She’d been uninhibited, and responded eagerly to him, and he’d assumed that was a result of her experience rather than her nature and gone too quickly. But that passion and eagerness would serve them well in the marriage bed once he proved to her that the pain she’d experienced was just the breaching, a one-time thing. He felt sure her resistance and wariness regarding their marrying would fall away once he showed her that the joining could be as pleasurable as the other lessons he’d taught her.

Conran glanced to the mead Alick had put on the tray and back to Evina, debating whether to wake her with kisses and caresses and seduce her, or to just wake her to eat and drink, and then try to seduce her. The latter option was probably what he should do, he thought, but it would give her a chance to raise her guards again and she looked so soft and open in sleep . . .

Evina sighed sleepily and turned onto her back, her body stretching under the caressing hand moving along her side and down her hip. At first, she thought she was still asleep and dreaming, but then that hand moved back up her body to tug her gown and tunic off one shoulder and down her arm, baring her uninjured breast. When a hand then closed over what had been revealed, the last of sleep’s grip slipped away and Evina opened her eyes on a small gasp, her body instinctively arching upward into the caress.

“Ye’re so damned beautiful.”

She blinked at those softly whispered words and focused on Conran. He was seated next to her on the bed, clad in only his shirt, she noted, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should be. At least her body seemed to think so as it hummed under his attention.

“Are ye thirsty?” he asked softly.

Evina met his gaze, but hesitated to answer. His fingers had found and begun to pluck at her hardening nipple and it was causing complete chaos in her body. Partially a result of the excitement he was stirring, and partly in anticipation of the wild pleasure she knew could follow if this continued. Unfortunately, now that he’d mentioned it, Evina realized she was absolutely parched and, after a moment, she reluctantly nodded.

As she’d feared, Conran immediately stopped his caressing. His hand slid away and then under her shoulder to ease her upright as he quickly rearranged both pillows on the bed so that she could lean against them. He then turned away to reach toward a tray on the bedside table.

Evina glanced down at herself. The lacings of her gown were undone and it, and her tunic, were still hanging off one shoulder, leaving her breast bare. She considered covering it up, but then decided that was rather like closing the stable door after the horse was out and turned her attention to the tray instead. She noted the drinks, but also the food, and felt her stomach stir with interest. But then Conran picked up one of the drinks and offered it to her.

Evina accepted it with a whispered, “Thank ye,” and lifted it to her mouth to drink, her eyes widening when he tugged his shirt up and off over his head. She watched him toss it aside, and then turned her gaze to his naked chest as she drank thirstily. But she nearly choked on her drink in surprise when Conran then suddenly bent his head and claimed the nipple he’d been caressing, his mouth closing over it and drawing on it gently.

Swallowing quickly, Evina watched, mesmerized, as he let it slide free of his lips so that he could lick, nip and suck it back in again. But then he let it slide free once more and straightened to tap the bottom of her mug, silently urging her to drink again. Evina automatically took another swallow of the sweet mead, and then watched as he took the drink and set it back on the tray.

“How is yer wound?” Conran asked as he turned back. His tone was casual, as if they weren’t sitting there, him naked, and her with one breast out.

“Fine,” she said, and then cleared her throat when the word came out a husky whisper.

“Sore?” he asked.

Evina shook her head and he smiled, and then kissed her. It was a sweet, questing kiss at first, his mouth drifting over hers before settling and pressing more firmly as he eased her gown and tunic off her other shoulder. Both of her arms were down at that point, and the material slid down both arms and off her hands too when she lifted them. It left the material to gather around her waist, leaving her bare from there up. She didn’t get to fret over that long before Conran distracted her by sliding his tongue out to rub along the seam between her lips. Evina forgot all about her clothing and opened her mouth to him.

The tone of the kiss immediately altered, becoming more demanding as Conran slanted his mouth over hers and thrust with his tongue. Evina sighed into his mouth and returned that demand as her hands found and smoothed over his chest. Dear God, he was beautiful, she acknowledged as she caressed and felt the muscles of his chest and stomach, before sliding her hands around his neck.

When Conran began to ease her down to lie on her back, Evina clung to him with both hands and lips, and then gasped into his mouth as his hands began to move over her, caressing, tweaking and kneading her eager flesh. Her response became increasingly desperate as his hands moved lower. She felt one drift under the hem of her gown and then glide upward, pushing it and then the tunic too up over her hips. Evina sighed and shifted her legs restlessly, and then gasped and closed her legs when his hand drifted back down to slide between her legs.

Conran responded by breaking their kiss and trailing his mouth across her cheek and down her neck. But his hand continued to press between her legs, his palm moving back and forth against her core, until her legs unlocked and shifted restlessly before settling with her feet flat on the bed so that she could lift her hips into the caress. When his mouth found her breast again, her attention was divided between the two areas of pleasure he was causing, but then his mouth continued down. It drifted over her trembling stomach, and then farther, and in the next moment his hand had stopped pressing against her core and, instead, shifted to one thigh. Then his other hand pressed firmly against the other thigh, urging her legs wide open, Evina stiffened and held her breath and then released it on a soft cry when his mouth descended and he began to lash her damp, eager flesh.

Within moments Evina was a thrashing, frenzied wild thing in the bed, her breath coming in gasps and pants, her head twisting and body writhing under his ministration as she struggled toward the pleasure he offered. And then she stiffened, her body going as hard as a board, with just the faintest tremor before beginning to convulse and shudder as she found her release.

Chapter 13

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