She looked so...frustrated that it eased something in him. Helping her was something he could do. Something simple. ‘Let me.’
When he drew near so they almost touched, she turned her head. It made the closeness a bit easier. A bit, but not much. Like this he could see how many colours of red her hair contained, he could smell the lavender and evergreen that was brushed in her gown.
She exhaled. ‘This is a very strange evening.’
The laces weren’t so tangled and since they were made of silk, they unwound with a few simple tugs. ‘Most husbands and wives undress in their chambers.’
‘Most husbands and wives do not negotiate for each item of clothing. We didn’t have this much negotiation when we agreed to marry.’
‘True,’ he answered because it was the truth and saying anything else would bring light to the lies he already had to protect.
Saying vows was no negotiation, but a swift sword of duty to the only son of a Highland chief. He had no power to avoid it. Everything else, however, he’d negotiate to ensure he kept the little power he had left. For no matter what,he would resolve the wrong that was done here and he wouldn’t make any more mistakes.
To do that, he had to leave his breeches on, but with a few more tugs the ribbon pulled free and something within him did as well when Ailsa stepped away and flung the surcoat to the ground.
It was his control slipping as he realised he would touch, he would taste this woman with her green eyes and red hair that beckoned him. He’d feel what it was like to press against her, hold her and discover what it was about her that compelled him to her.
With a huff to her breath she straightened her shoulders which pressed her breasts against her chemise and he was glad for the ribbon still in his hand so he could hold on to something. He would find thismorebetween them. The only question was whether he would also find his resolve.
Rory held so still, he could be carved marble. Ailsa didn’t know why he’d grown quiet or didn’t take off the rest of his clothing...or hers.
She didn’t know much, but this couldn’t be normal on their wedding night. If they were in love, kisses would be done and there would be passion. She had heard of both in abundancefrom scullery maids to cordwainer’s mothers. She didn’t expect that between Rory and her, yet even in an arranged marriage shouldn’t there have been pleasantries? Some wooing?
The act of lovemaking was intimate and, though she had bared more before him than any man, he still felt like a stranger to her. Would they touch, would he take her maidenhead and she know no more of him than this?
She tilted her head to him and noticed the changes as they stared. No man had stood this close before so that she could see in minute detail the colouring of his skin in contrast to the dark discs of his nipples.
She felt the warmth of him as well and the slight rasp of his breath. This close she could also catch the hint of leather, of steel and something of the man. Something that reminded her of the cliffs heated by the sun.
She was reminded of those cliff’s in his eyes as well. Dangerous with a forged strength to withstand the elements. That awareness pounded in her heart and rushed from her head to her toes and back again. Licking her lips at the dryness suddenly there, she asked, ‘Aren’t we to lie on the bed?’
He moved so slowly she could watch the ascent of his left hand, the one that held theribbon, before he brushed his fingers against her jaw and just behind her ear. ‘Perhaps I should kiss you first.’
A soft tilt of her chin raised her gaze. She kept her eyes open to see the descent of his head towards hers and saw the quirk to his brow as his eyes kept to hers.
‘Are you watching us kiss?’ he asked. ‘You are bold, are you not?’
Boldness, no. Curious, yes. Unsteady, most definitely, and she placed her hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm, almost hot beneath her. It surprised her, but not as much as him if the widening of his eyes was any indication.
‘Very bold,’ he murmured against her lips. Now he would kiss her as expected and the strangeness of this day would be like it should.
Instead, he tilted his head and kissed just to the side of her lips. Then up along her jaw with a delicate, deliberate precision she was helpless not to be affected by. To give him access, she arched her neck, placing her hand on his other shoulder.
A growl of approval as Rory shifted closer to her, his right hand supporting her lower back, shifting her weight to support her against him. As he kissed along her neck, his left hand caressed and she felt the ribbon he held brush against her shoulders before he pulled back.
A soft chuckle. ‘Still watching?’
She couldn’t seem not to. This man, this stranger who was touching her as no other had before, as she experienced shivers and heat along her skin as she never had before.
‘See this, then.’ Stepping back, he gathered her chemise and tore it up and off her body.
‘Ailsa,’ he said as he tossed the garment even as he kept the ribbon. She stood naked and vulnerable. Feeling the air and this man before her, she was aware of the prickling of her skin and the tightening of her nipples.
His eyes darkened to impossible depths as did the flush along his chest and cheeks. Then he closed his eyes and eased his breath through parted lips.
Was this how it was? How could she know this was how it should be between a man or a woman? As a healer, she seen many women naked and tended to some males as well. There’d always been chaperons and the older healer usually tended the males until her death. However, in a marriage situation, she didn’t know what she was to do.
Should she have taken off his clothes and closed her eyes as well? ‘What is it?’ she whispered.
