“Youarea wanton wench,” he murmured as his lips left hers to trail across her cheek toward her shell-like ear.
“Since you think me so wanton and seem to disapprove, perhaps you’d like me to stop?” she whispered as she continued to stroke him.
He closed his eyes. “No.”
She leaned closer and caressed with more pressure, as she kissed his neck. “Good. Because it so happens, my husband, that I don’t want to.”
His hands were on a meandering journey of their own, up her back, then down and around. “Your uncle told me you were stubborn.”
“Alas for you, he’s quite right.”
“Alas for you, I’ve been dreaming of this night for a month. It was all I could do to keep my distance.”
“I thought it would be for the best, after everything,” she replied as she began to undo the brooch holding his plaid over his shoulder. “It wasn’t easy for me, either. More than once, I was very tempted to sneak into your chamber again.”
She freed the broach. As the fabric fell from his shoulder, she stepped away, turning to set the brooch down on the table.
“I was very tempted to invite you to meet me under that willow tree,” he replied softly, coming up behind her and grabbing her around the waist, the memory of that memorable coupling returning.
“Undo my laces for me?” she asked, her breathing fast and shallow as she held back her hair, exposing the knot at her neck.
“Gladly,” he said, pressing his lips there. Who would ever guess a nape could be so enticing?
She sighed rapturously as he worked to undo the knot while continuing to kiss her neck. Then he started to pull out the laces.
She cast a pert look at him over her shoulder. “I’m thinking that’s taking much too long.”
“I’m finding this very…interesting.”
She turned and, with quicker motions, started to undo the lacing at the neck of his shirt. “I’m not that patient.”
“You would strip me naked here and now?”
She looked up into his face, and in her eyes, he saw the answer. The very exciting answer.
Although it seemed a sort of titillating torture, he let her. The first to go was his shirt. With a movement like another caress, she put her hands beneath it and lifted it from him. She picked up the end of the fabric that had fallen from his shoulder and, laying it over her arm, went to work on his belt. In the next moment, that, too, was gone. She gathered the fabric into her arms, then stopped to stare at what he was wearing beneath thefeileadh.
“What’s that?” she demanded, her brows furrowed.
“The Saxons call thembraies.A Scot I am not, and it’s a breezy day. What if the wind had been stronger?”
She turned away and started to fold the fabric.
He tugged off his boots, then removed thebraies.After a few moments, when she still hadn’t said anything, or even looked his way again, he said, “I’ve got them off now.”
She didn’t answer.
He crept up behind her and slid his arms around her waist as she put the fabric on the chest. “Surely you’re not angry with me?”
To both his relief and chagrin, she burst out laughing. She continued to laugh so hard, she could hardly stand up. She staggered over to the bed and collapsed upon it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her eyes. “You looked…that is, those…thosethings…I’ve never seen anything like them, except on a baby….”
“I amnota baby.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” She ran her gaze over his naked body. “You look much better as you are now.” Her eyes darkened with desire, and glistened with the hunger he’d also missed as she inched back farther on the bed. “Muchbetter.”
He moved closer. “Then I’m not offended. But you’re still dressed.”
