Medieval Ever After (105 page)

“I’m hoping that we can be more open and honest with each other,” she went on.

He barreled through the great hall and toward the stairs without acknowledging her words. When he reached his chamber, he threw open the door and pulled her inside, then shut the door behind them.

He released her wrist and crossed his large arms over his chest. “You are finally ready to talk, are you? Good, because I have a mind to hear the truth from you—for once.”

Her warm thoughts and soft mood toward him vanished. She frowned and crossed her arms as well, mirroring his stance.

“What do you mean,
for once
?”

“Don’t play games with me, lass. I am not a man to be trifled with. You have been evading me since the moment I arrived, and you have lied as well.”

“What have I lied about?”

“You presented yourself as a virgin, which you are clearly not.”

She was preparing herself for a fight about her disappearances and absences, not about her virtue. Her mouth fell open as she fumbled for words.

“Don’t try to form another lie. I know you are sneaking off to be with some other man.”

“What?” she managed to sputter. “What other man? What are you talking about?”

He began pacing, and though he didn’t make a move toward her, she could tell he was growing more heated with anger.

“All those trips you’ve been making to the village? I know you’re actually sneaking off to some cottage to meet with your lover. Don’t try to deny it. I had you followed. I would just ask for a little honesty from you. As your husband, it’s the least I deserve.”

The gears slowly ground to a halt in her head. He knew about Ian and Mairi’s cottage. And he thought she had a lover. And he’d had her followed.

“You spied on me?”

She realized that her hands had dropped to her sides and she was clenching and unclenching her fists. What a fool she was. Mere hours ago, she had convinced herself that her bodily attraction to this man was enough to warrant extending him some trust. And here she was learning he trusted her so little that he had her followed to see if she was cuckolding him.

“What else was I supposed to do?” he demanded, rounding on her. “I’ve commanded and cajoled, and yet you won’t give me an answer about where you’ve been sneaking off to.”

She felt a hot blush of embarrassment and shame wash over her face. He was right. She’d refused to tell him what she was up to. How could she expect him to trust her when she behaved in such a way?

“I do not have a lover,” she said, returning to his initial accusation.

“Then who was the man you were seen hugging in the woods earlier today?” His eyes appeared darker in the light from the fire that burned in the brazier nearby.

She averted her eyes. Now she knew that she couldn’t trust him with the secret of her falconry. But how would she convince him that she wasn’t conducting some illicit affair?

“That was a friend.”

“A friend?” Daniel said acidly. “Come, Rona, the truth!”

“That is the truth! He is a friend. And he’s married.”

“And a married man has never had an affair with a younger maiden before?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she said tartly, spinning on her heels and giving him her back to avoid those searching blue-gray eyes.

“You wouldn’t? Isn’t that why you’ve been denying me my husbandly rights? You’re afraid I’ll realize that you’re not a virgin, that you’ve been gallivanting with some peasant—”

She spun back around again to face him. She knew she was taking his bait, but she had to convince him somehow.

“I am a virgin! I can’t tell you why I go to the woods, or who that man was, but—”

“Why? Why can’t you tell me?” He wrapped his hands around her arms and lowered his head so that their faces were mere inches apart. He locked her in place, both with his hands and his eyes. “Why, Rona?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to escape him. “Because. Because I don’t even know you. Because you were sent here by the King.”

“What does the Bruce have to do with it?”

Because what I am doing defies a King’s authority
, she thought silently.
And because if you serve the King, you’ll have my eyes gouged out for violating the law, and you’ll cut off Ian’s hands
.

She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of such thoughts and also to brush Daniel away.

“I am a maiden still,” she said lamely. She had that horrible, desperate feeling again, like she was being cornered and had no escape.

He released her and took a step back in disgust. “I am not a tolerant man, but I could have forgiven you, if only you’d have told the truth.”

“The truth?” Something about his icy, dismissive tone was the last straw. She felt her temper boil over, but it was more than just anger and outrage at his accusations. In the pit of her stomach sat a stone of fear—fear that he would turn away from her forever, that they would both be doomed to a cold, cruel marriage, that she would never again know the feel of his lips on hers.

“Here’s the truth,” she began, jabbing a finger into his broad chest. “I never wanted to marry you. My life was just fine before you showed up. I always knew I’d have to get married, but I didn’t imagine it would be to a Highlander who stomps around in a kilt giving orders all day.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And I didn’t ask to be married off to a Lowland chit who has a tongue and a temper as sharp as my sword. So at least we can be honest about that.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “I gather you are the kind of man who is used to being in control. Well, you can’t control me.”

“Oh no?” he said, a wicked look coming into his eyes. “You said it yourself, lass. You hardly know me. Perhaps I will lock you in my chamber and find some way to draw the information out of you.”

Rona was suddenly very aware of his body, which loomed over her. He stood so close that if she inhaled deeply, she would almost brush against him. Instead of frightening her, though, his words made her feel hot and restless. She took a step back to try to clear her mind.

“You’re no tyrant. You can’t force me to tell you what you want to know.”

Her anger was mixing with something else now, something that was making her voice breathier and her stomach flutter.

He took a step toward her, and to maintain what little space there was between them, she was forced to take a step back.

“You’re right about one thing, lass,” he said lowly. “I am used to being in control. I won’t be made a fool of, and I damn well won’t have my wife cuckolding me.”

“I won’t tell you where I go or what I do,” she said defiantly, though her heart beat in her throat furiously. “But you wanted the truth. The truth is, I am a virgin. In fact, you are the first and only man I have ever kissed.”

His eyes flickered in surprise for the briefest moment, but then his face resumed its hard look.

“And why should I believe you when you refuse to tell me what you are about, and then in the same breath profess that you should be trusted?”

“I don’t know. There’s no way I can prove to you that I am still a maiden, except—” She felt her eyes go wide as she realized what she was about to say. She should bite her tongue! She cursed herself silently for such brazenness.

“Aye, except for
that
way,” Daniel said darkly.

He took another step forward, and Rona bumped into the edge of the bed. She hadn’t realized it, but he had slowly backed her toward his massive bed, which was pushed against the far wall of the chamber. Her eyes flickered up to his, and her mouth went dry at the look on his face.

Anger and frustration battled with hungry desire across his features. She had never seen his face so expressive before. She guessed dimly that he was so distracted, so close to letting go of his tightly held rein on himself, that he didn’t have the energy to mask his face as he normally did.

But instead of scooting around him and away from the bed, as any sane and proper lady would do, she rose onto her toes and brushed her lips against his. She had no idea what inspired that action, for by all measures she should be terrified to be alone with her infuriated husband, a man who looked like he couldn’t decide between anger at her or desire for her.

But she felt so tired—so tired of fighting him, so tired of fighting her own desire. The image of Mairi and Ian walking hand in hand earlier that afternoon flitted across her mind. That’s what she wanted. Not all the lies and secrets and mistrust. She wanted Daniel to look at her the way Ian looked at Mairi—with utter trust and devotion. And she wanted to look at him like that, too.

“Let me show you that you can trust me,” she whispered against his lips.

“Is this a trick?” he said, but instead of icy suspicion, there was a note of desperation in his voice.

“I wouldn’t know how to trick you, Daniel,” she replied, locking eyes with him. “All I know is that I am…drawn to you, despite my best efforts to keep you at arm’s length. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I am drawn to you too,” he breathed. “Bloody hell, you’re driving me mad. Who are you, Rona?”

She didn’t know how to answer. Was she a liar and an underhanded sneak, or was she a loyal friend and protector? Was she all flaming temper and stubbornness, or was she the liquid pool of desire she became in Daniel’s presence?

“I am your wife,” she replied.

He was watching her face closely, no doubt registering all her tangled thoughts, which she didn’t bother trying to hide. His body was taut as a bowstring in front of her. She couldn’t bear the silence that stretched as he regarded her, trying to hold himself back and yet so clearly struggling with control.

Slowly, she raised her fingertips to his face, which was set firmly. Ever so softly, she brushed against his darkly stubbled jawline.

It was like her touch broke the dam of his control. His body slammed into hers, his rock-hard arms wrapping around her and holding her in a demanding embrace. His lips crashed down onto hers in a savage kiss.

She was completely swept away by his sheer force and the power of his desire. And she didn’t want to fight it. The last coherent thought she could manage was that perhaps this was what she had wanted from the minute she’d laid eyes on him nearly two weeks ago. She’d resisted him, resisted herself, but no more.

She let herself melt into the hard contours of his body. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt soft and yielding—willingly. She’d been hard and bristly for so long, but it felt very right to dissolve in Daniel’s embrace.

And yet even as she softened and yielded, a fire inside her kindled. But this was more than the flames of anger and frustration that had consumed her earlier. This was a fire that sparked at each point of contact she had with Daniel’s hard body. Heat built in her lips, her breasts, which were crushed against his chest, and lower, deep in her belly.

She gasped at the flood of sensation, and he took the opportunity to invade her mouth with his tongue. She met his caresses with her own tongue, which drew a growl from him. His hands moved from their hard hold on her back, one snaking into her loose hair and the other drifting lower until he had a tight grip on her bottom, holding her firmly against his hips.

She could already feel that hard length growing against her stomach. She distantly remembered how a shift of her hips when she was sitting on his lap in the great hall had brought him pleasure. So she moved a little against him, pushing into that length.

Just as she’d hoped, he growled in savage pleasure again. The hand on her bottom squeezed hard, sending racing trails of heat through her veins.

He drew back from their kiss suddenly. Her eyes flew open in confusion at the loss of contact.

“Tell me now if you want to stop, Rona,” he said huskily. “Because I want to be inside you so badly I can barely think.”

His bold, raw words startled her, but they didn’t douse the flames licking at her body. “Nay,” she breathed. “Don’t stop. I want this.”

His face shifted from pained control to undisguised hunger at her words. His lips descended once again on hers, and his hands began working on the ties running down the back of her wool dress.

Suddenly she felt like she was wearing twenty layers of heavy, hot, itchy wool. She needed to be free of her clothes, and she longed to feel his skin against hers.

As he tugged on her gown’s laces, she let her fingertips run from his bristly jaw to the smooth, tanned column of his neck. He swallowed, and she could feel the corded muscles there. Her fingers trailed lower, to the little triangle of skin that was exposed at the loose collar of his plain linen shirt.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed her lips into the pounding pulse in that little hollow. Suddenly, his hands left her back and he yanked his shirt out from his belt and over his head. He tossed it aside, then went back to work on her ties.

Her eyes flew everywhere at once, trying to absorb the sight of so much exposed skin. He was all hard, smooth ridges and planes, without an ounce of spare flesh on him. His broad shoulders and chest tapered into a waist that rippled with muscles. She pressed her palms into his chest and was surprised at how warm he was—like a hot stone pulled from the hearth.