“Nay. Or very little.” Marian stood, and Màiri followed suit. “You may trust me, Lady Màiri—”
“Màiri, please.”
Marian placed her goblet down on the table, but not until after taking a long, appreciative sip. At that moment, Màiri liked the woman, now her sister-in-law, very much.
“You have nothing to fear, Màiri, I promise it,” Marian said. “In fact, you will enjoy the intimacies between husband and wife”—she smiled—“very much.”
Another knock.
“You can trust me.”
Marian strode to the door. Looking back, she gave one final reassuring nod and then opened the door. As expected, Ian stood on the other side.
You looked at him in a way you’ve never once looked at me.
Màiri had denied it, of course. Although it didn’t matter anymore. It couldn’t. Ambrose had not wished to anger her father, and she could not blame him. Alana was right after all—he never would have yielded. Besides, she knew in her heart that Ambrose was right. She had never looked at him that way, and her stomach had never fluttered when he was near. Not like it did around Ian.
She loved Ambrose, aye. But she desired her husband.
And Màiri was not so stubborn as her father to deny it.
11
He had loved a woman once.
After Reik’s car accident, when his girlfriend had been killed, his brother had been in a bad place. Was still in a bad place, really. So Ian had booked the vacation for them on a whim and forced his brother’s ass to Turks and Caicos for a long weekend. Reikart had come back with a tan and a few dozen or more beers under his belt.
Ian had come home with a new long-distance relationship.
Lisa was an account executive from Manhattan. Smart, successful, and driven, but fun-loving too. Although it had started off as a fling, he’d fallen hard for her, and she’d agreed to try long distance—ifhemade the effort. She’d accepted his gifts, urged him to take her on expensive trips, and then she’d left him. Said the long distance was too much. Pics of her new boy toy surfaced on her Instagram account less than a week later. His brothers, never fond of Lisa, had been all too happy to show him. This guy apparently had a house in the Hamptons. And Lisa loved the Hamptons.
She was the only woman he’d ever saidI love youto, and she’d broken his heart. After everything went down, Ian had lain awake at night trying to imagine what his mom would have said about the whole thing. Excitement fluttered in his stomach at the realization he could finally ask her. They said time heals all wounds, but it had never healed this one: he missed his mother.
Truth was, he didn’t really need to ask what she would have thought of Lisa. He was pretty sure he knew.
But what would his mom have to say about his wife? She’d like her, for sure. What wasn’t to like? Beautiful. Kind. Thoughtful. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be here long enough to find out.
The door opened.
He hadn’t been expecting Marian.
“I promised her pleasure, not pain. Do see that you give it to her.”
He didn’t even have time to react to that one before his sister-in-law walked away.Damn, girl.No wonder Grey had fallen so hard for her. That kind of loyalty to a woman she’d just met that day . . . Marian had just gone up another notch in his eyes.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to follow through.
If he’d not already tasted Màiri, this whole thing might have been a bit easier. But as he walked inside the bedchamber, Ian knew two things simultaneously.
One, if he stayed here, he’d be hard-pressed to keep his hands off her.
Two, he had never actually been in love with Lisa.
Ian had desired her, sure. Her confidence had attracted him. He’d always loved women who held their heads high, marching into a room as if they owned it and he was merely leasing it from them. But he’d never once felt this kind of pull to the Manhattan gold digger.
Màiri had no idea how beautiful she was, as trite as that might sound. It was no humblebrag for her to hide her face. How was that possible? Didn’t this Ambrose guy worship the ground she walked on? Whatever the case, she had convinced herself she was undesirable . . . which made him want to prove the opposite to her. It was the least he could do before he abandoned her.
“I guess you don’t need this.” He held up the pitcher of wine he’d brought as he walked toward her. Placing it next to the other, he poured himself a glass, although it wasn’t a glass, of course, so much as a goblet. Is that what they said in this time?Care for a goblet of wine?
