She chuckled. “’Twas nae hard. Yer yearning for me is clear on yer face.”
He took Lena’s hand in his. As he led her out from under the steps and up the staircase, he said, “And this dunnae cause fear in ye any longer, aye?”
“Aye,” she replied. “Nae fear. Yer desire pleases me.”
“Excellent,” he said, impatience to strip his wife naked bursting within him. He stopped, slid an arm under her legs, laughing when she yelped, and swooped her up into his hold. She nestled against his chest. “Ye will be dying with pleasure verra soon, Wife.”
“Oh, ye’re a brute!” she said with a hearty laugh. “We’ll be the gossip of Duart.”
He nodded as he saw a servant at the top of the stairs pause as she descended, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I certainly hope so. I rather like the thought of the servants and my clan gossiping about how much I desire ye.”
“Alex,” Lena hissed, tapping him on the chest rapidly. “Put me down! Dunnae ye see the servant.”
“Aye, Wife. I’d be blind if I did nae,” he said. The servant was so close now that she likely had heard Lena’s question and Alex’s reply.
“My lord. My lady,” the servant said, bobbing a curtsy.
Alex stole a glance at Lena, amused to see her cheeks splotchy with color. He should take mercy on her, but…
“I twisted my ankle,” Lena blurted to the servant.
Alex chuckled. “My wife lies. She was desperate to have me alone as quickly as possible. Insisted I carry her, she did.”
Lena narrowed her eyes at him, but he ferreted her past the servant before she could reply.
“Ye really are incorrigible!” she said, as he entered her bedchamber and kicked the door shut behind him.
“Aye,” he agreed, feeling altogether happy that they could share such a carefree moment. “Ye bring it out in me,” he admitted. “’Tis been years since I’ve felt so light at heart.”
She placed her hand on his chest and stroked him. “I want to bring something else out in ye, as well,” she teased, her voice a sultry caress.
“What’s that?” he asked, brushing kisses down her neck and enjoying the way she quivered at his touch.
“Last night, when we were together,” she said, her words stilted at first but growing smoother and stronger as she spoke. “I ken ye were holding back, being careful and gentle for me.” Her gaze came to his, and he could see an entreaty in the depths of her eyes. “I’m so grateful for how ye have treated me with such care since we were married, and really even before that, but I dunnae wish ye to leash yer desires with me in the bed tonight, Husband. I want ye to release the restraint ye have put on yerself.”
The notion of taking her in all the ways he could conjure made him grow rigid everywhere and filled him with gladness that none of the ways he conjured involved the need to be in control as they always had with other women. Still, he was afraid the intensity of his passion for her might scare her. “I believe if I released all my restraints and took ye in the thousands of ways I can imagine, ye’d run from the room.”
“I will nae,” she insisted. “I’m nae afraid of ye or yer touch.”
“Ye’d think me barbaric,” he assured her.
A devilish smile tugged at her lips. “With ye, I rather like barbaric.”
Perchance it was the blatant look of desire she gave him, or the way her tongue darted out of her mouth to wet first her full upper lip and then her lower, or it could have been the light touch of the fingertips she had slipped under his kilt. He was not sure which, maybe one or all three, but his hold on his restraint faltered. Claiming her lips, he crushed her to him. He wanted to drink in her smell, her taste, the very essence of her. He explored her mouth with his tongue, not having to demand anything because she gave before he could ask. Their tongues swirled and retreated before coming together again. He only broke the kiss to toss her gently on the bed. He swiftly removed his clothing, his yearning consuming him as he watched her tug off her gown and bare herself to him, no longer trying to cover herself as she had done previously.
“Ye’re a miracle,” he whispered with reverence, meaning it to the depths of his soul. She was his miracle to protect and treasure.
She opened her arms wide and beckoned him to her. When he slid his arms around her and splayed his hands over her back, she kissed his collarbone, his neck, and finally his lips. “And ye are my miracle,” she said. “Now show me yer deepest desires.”
Gently he eased her back, running his hands over the silken skin of her stomach and down to her inner thighs. He eased his hands under her buttocks to flip her to her belly. She shot up onto her knees so fast, she nearly knocked him backward with her motion. “Lena?”
She glanced back at him, panting, a wild look in her eyes. “I… Ye… It’s just that he—”
He pressed a finger to her lips, a now very familiar rage filling his chest. He could only guess what Findlay had done to her. “Dunnae fash yerself, Mo chailin chalma. I have many other desires to experience with ye.”
Hearing Alex call her his “brave one,” combined with the tenderness and concern in his eyes, and his willingness to only go where she led him was enough to instill bravery firmly back in Lena’s heart. She wanted to wipe all her old nightmares from her mind, and there was no better way than to replace the horrible memories with new, wonderful ones. Her husband was an expert wooer, whether he knew it or not. He had but to give her a kind look or a tender word, and she was like clay in his hands.
Silently, she turned and made her way back onto her belly. Her heart thumped wildly, but she was going forward into the dark, allowing Alex to shine light. “Show me,” she whispered.
