He ran his thumb very lightlyacross Marion’s bruised lips. She tensed but then relaxed against him. Hercurves pressed against him reminded him of the night before and made him gohard with longing. He traced his fingertips down her scratched arm to herbreasts and cupped one of them as he circled his thumb over her taut bud. Needpounded through him as she pushed even closer to him.
“I like that ye’re jealous overme,” he admitted, his voice almost hoarse with desire.
She pursed her lips as she broughther hand to his chest and laid her palm flat against his beating heart. “Whatabout you?” she asked. “Are you jealous over me?”
“Nay.”
She frowned and tried to move awayfrom him, but he caught her at the elbow and brought her hard against him oncemore, so that her breath whooshed out when her body collided with his. “Idunnae get jealous ever.” He just didn’t want anyone to touch her or stare ather overly long, but that was different.
She quirked her mouth. “Why isthat?”
“Because I am the master of myemotions, Marion. I dunnae allow myself to feel what I dunnae wish to feel.”
Her brows dipped together. “Hownice for you,” she grumbled. “We simple humans are often ruled by emotions.Some people even think that when great emotion strikes, such as deep love, oranger,” she quickly added, “one cannot control oneself.”
“I always control myself,” hemanaged to get out, in spite of the fact he could feel his control slippingaway. He wanted to throw her on the bed, rip off her gown, and worship herbody.
“I suppose you are not jealousbecause you do not wish to feel anything for me,” she said, glancing down.
The hurt in her voice slicedthrough him. His guilt, his own tortured mind, was hurting her. He was a clot-heid.Shame poured over him as he hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her faceuntil he found her glorious green gaze on him once more, and this time hisheart jolted with feelings for her. Shock vibrated through him. For a longmoment, he said nothing as he realized that the connection he felt to her hadalready strengthened.
“I feel things for ye,” he admittedfinally, “in spite of the fact that I dunnae want to.”
“You do?” she asked in a shakywhisper.
He nodded. “Aye.”
A loud knock came at the door.
“Who is it?” Iain demanded,irritated by the interruption.
“We’ve bathing water for ye.”
Iain released Marion, strode to thedoor, and let the two boys enter with big barrels of steaming water. As theyfilled the wooden tub, he studied his wife, standing there nibbling on her hurtlip with her flushed cheeks, yet her head was still held high. She was a finewoman, and he was struck with how very fortunate he had been. He could havebeen wedded to a cold woman, indeed, but Marion was hot as a burning log, andhe was glad for it, in spite of the unwanted emotions she stirred.
When the boys finished, Iain closedthe door and turned slowly toward his wife. He didn’t want to talk anymore, andhe prayed to God she’d let it be. He didn’t understand what she stirred in him,nor what he was going to do about it, but he comprehended completely how muchhe wanted her.
He walked slowly over to her andstopped a hairsbreadth from her. “Shall we bathe?”
Her gaze widened, and he was afraidshe was going to say no, but she nodded. “That would be nice.”
Nicewas not what he had in mind, but he kept that thought to himself. When shestarted to raise her hands, as if trying to disrobe herself, he caught them inhis and shook his head. “Let me,” he said, moving around to her back. “Tell mewhat happened to you and Bridgette.”
As he slowly started to undo hergown, her soft melodic voice filled the silence as she explained verymatter-of-factly how she and Bridgette were racing back to the castle in thedark, of Bridgette’s fall off the mountainside, and how Marion had risked herown life to save Bridgette’s.
“Ye’re courageous and foolish,” hesaid, meaning it. The idea that she could have died helping Bridgette made hisinsides twist into a tight coil. Yet, had she not helped, he’d have thought hera coward and the behavior shameful. So he couldn’t fault her.
She glanced back at him as helowered her gown over one silky shoulder and then the next. Her green eyesflashed with anger. His wife, in spite of her protest to the contrary, hadquite a temper. He liked her show of spirit. He liked everything about her thusfar, except her disobeying the orders meant to keep her safe.
“What would you have had me do?”she demanded. “Let Bridgette fall?”
He turned her around to face him ashe caught the soft material next to her skin and dragged it downward over herhigh, firm breasts, lower stilloverher tiny waist, and down farther past her rounded hips and lush bottom. Hisblood sang through his veins as he moved his gaze inch by pleasurable inch overher long legs and flat stomach back up to her eyes.
“If ye’d obeyed my order to stay inthe bedchamber, then ye would have never been in such a dangerous position. ButI’d never have ye leave someone in need.”
He could see her jaw visiblyclenching. He expected her to argue so was surprised when she said, “Perchancecould we call your commands to me ‘requests’?”
He chuckled. “Fine,requests,”he answered as he motioned for her to step out of her chemise. “But dunnae evertell my brothers or Rory Mac I consented to this.”
