“Tell me, now!” Brothwell demanded, shaking her, and when she cried out, William reacted instinctively. He grabbed Brothwell by the arms and jerked him away from Ada. He would have thrown the man against the wall and sent his fist into Brothwell’s face but the man’s guards surrounded William, swords drawn and pointed at him.
Yanking his arms away from William, Brothwell narrowed his gaze. “I’m pleased ye would protect Ada. She’s a prize to be sure. I allowed her to wed ye, as I kenned ye would keep my prize safe, but she is just that:my prize. Dunnae ever think to protect her against me again or I will kill ye.”
Before William could respond, Ada said, “I’d nae do that if I were ye. I believe I dunnae feel any different yet because, well…because the marriage has nae yet been consummated.”
William gaped in shock at Ada’s words. A vivid blush swept her cheeks. Damn the lass. Why did she have to say such a thing and look so appealing? Now all he could envision were her legs wrapped around his body, her breasts bared for his touch, her hair fanned out for him to feel, and her lips parted for him to taste her once more.
The reasonable, warrior side of his brain almost disappeared under the deluge of desire, but with the force of his will, he brought his thoughts to his brother and the task at hand. If his wife needed to be bedded for her gift to come to her, then bed her he would. It was the perfect opportunity to finally get Ada alone and make their escape.Aftershe aided him in learning the remaining three traitors’ names. This would not be a joining of lust but a detached one of necessity.
He glanced at her, and his treacherous body hardened even more, an ache to make her his coursing through him in the most primal way.
“Then bed the lass now,” Brothwell ordered, looking from William to Ada and back again.
William frowned, an unwelcome suspicion rising. “Ye dunnae mean here.”
“Aye, I’d witness—”
“Nay!” Ada cried out, and William was in perfect agreement with her. He despised the custom of men observing the consummation of a marriage. He’d never understood why any man would allow others to view his wife naked.
“Brothwell, I dunnae hold with that custom,” William said, not giving a damn if his protest irritated the man.
“I need proof,” Brothwell said, his tone unbending.
“Then ye shall have it,” William replied, taking Ada by the hand. “I will give ye the sheet from the bed.”
Brothwell narrowed his eyes at William. “I will be outside her door with guards. I need an answer tonight.”
William nodded, knowing that no matter what transpired, he could not allow Ada to aid Brothwell and the other traitors in killing the king’s men. He also had to keep a distance between him and Ada.
He started the process of detaching himself as he followed her to her bedchamber, Brothwell behind them. Remembering who she truly was and the role she had played was made easier by Brothwell continuing to talk about the different questions he wanted her to answer when her gift awakened. He did so until they reached her bedchamber door. Brothwell nodded to William, and he and Ada entered.
When the door was closed behind them, William locked it, then turned to face Ada, who stood in the center of the room with an uneasy look on her face. He stiffened at the protectiveness that surged within him. She did not need his protection, though. It was he who needed to guard himself from her.
“William,” she said, stepping toward him, so close that her wildflower scent swirled around him. “In truth, I dunnae have any notion if consummating our marriage will awaken my gift.”
“Then why did ye say such a thing?” The moment the question was out, he cursed himself. No doubt she’d make up some lie.
“I thought to—”
“It dunnae matter,” he interrupted. “Do ye or do ye nae feel any different than ye did before we were wed?”
“I feel the same,” she said.
“Then we must consummate the marriage. Yer gift must be awakened.”
“William, I—”
“I’m going to have my guards bust down this door if ye are nae out shortly and presenting me with the sheets,” Brothwell bellowed. “I want an answer to my question, Ada.”
“Come,” William said, catching her by the hand. “I, for one, dunnae wish an audience for this.”
When he felt her trembling as she stepped toward him, he could not stop the rise of concern for her. He may wish to be detached, but he did not wish to hurt her, and he did desire her. “Dunnae fash,bean bhàsail.Remember, I vowed I would nae ever hurt ye.”
“Ye think me a temptress?” she asked, her tone shy.
“Aye,” he replied. What else could explain the near insatiable urge he felt to possess and protect her in this moment?
He needed to keep the joining dispassionate, but the moment he touched the bare flesh of her chest and glided his fingertips along her collarbone to slide them under the material of her gown, reason fled and yearning replaced it. Slowly, he pulled her gown over her shoulders and down her body until it puddled at her feet. She moved to cross her arms over her breasts, which could be clearly seen under the thin material of her léine, but he stopped her, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest. She was just a woman. He repeated it and repeated it, trying to temper the lust blazing within him, but it would not be tempered. It would not be stopped. It was consuming him like a fire burning out of control.
