Page 80 of Anice’s Bargain

Anice stepped back at the name of her departed betrothed.

James shook his head. “Forgive me. I shouldna have said that.”

“I love Drake as one loves a brother,” Anice answered truthfully. “And nothing more. We have been friends since Marin’s husband first took Werrick. And Timothy…” She bit her lip and focused on the external pain rather than that within.

James’s stare intensified and she realized he was bracing himself for her reply.

“I never loved Timothy.” The awful truth of it burst forth from Anice. “He loved me. Fiercely. But I could never bring myself to return the sentiment. I agreed to his proposal of marriage to benefit my family. I used his affection.”

Any anticipation at feeling lighter with the admission crashed into hard reality. The confession was as gentle as ripping a scab from a fresh wound.

“Women dinna have a choice in yer position, Anice,” James said, his voice once softer in the way he often used with her.

“I did have a choice. Father would never make me marry someone. But I had nothing to offer my family, except a profitable match.” Anice slid her gaze away, unable to look at James as she told him the ugliness of it all. “Marin did not wish to wed and instead ran the castle, seeing to us all. Ella is wonderfully smart and entertaining; Catriona’s skill with the bow is unrivaled; and Leila has the sight, in addition to being a fierce warrior at such a young age. I have only ever had my beauty to offer my family and used it most advantageously.”

“Including with me,” James said.

Anice slowly regarded her husband. “Aye, including with you, although I’m sure your father would have made you marry me even if I had a second nose.”

James scoffed in apparent agreement.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” she asked. “How you have been working so very hard to prove I am more than my attractiveness, all while centering your focus on your own appearance. Do you think a man should be at my side only if he is fine-looking?”

He grinned at that. “Ach, if ye wanted me at yer side to be fine-looking, I’d disappoint ye to be sure.”

“Nay.” Anice closed the distance between them once more. “You would not.” She ran her hands up his broad chest, her palms tracing the ridges and swells of powerful muscle. A shiver of delight ran through her.

“Anice.” His voice was low and intimate and made warmth pool in her stomach.

She looked up slowly, infusing the glance with sensuality. “Hmmm?”

His large hand cradled her face while his other secured her about the waist. “Will ye trust me?”

“Aye, James.” She searched his hot gaze and saw only earnestness there. Earnestness and desire. “Aye, I will trust you.”

“I was hoping ye’d say that,” he murmured. Then his mouth came down on hers, sealing their arrangement with a searing kiss.

Anice returned his kiss with equal passion, needing this man she had almost lost. There was a wild hunger between them, drawn to near madness with a desperation to be close.

While their previous joining hours ago had been tender and loving, now their hands shook with eagerness, their need so great they did not bother to undress. Skirts lifted, trews untied, a cold stone wall at Anice’s back and the heat of her lover thrusting hard and fast between her thighs.

She clung to him as though she might lose him again and reveled in his warm familiar smell, the groan of his pleasure in her ear. It was over quickly and left their knees shaking with the aftereffects of such overwhelming desire.

James put his damp forehead to hers. “I love ye, mo leannan.”

Anice’s throat clogged with emotion. He said the words she had been feeling herself, and too afraid to say. Words she had been too heartbroken to hear earlier that eve. Now, at the cusp of war and death and loss, these words were being unveiled.

“I love you too, James.” Anice nuzzled against the pleasant rasp of his whiskered jaw.

He tightened his hold on her and the thud of his heart tapped harder against her palm where her hand rested. “We can prevent this war,” he said with finality. “But first, we’ll need a plan.”

* * *

James would have lingeredin the dungeon with Anice for a lifetime, had the reiver not returned and informed him Laird Graham wanted to see him.

Leaving Anice in the dank cell had been as difficult as prying one’s own heart from their chest. Every step further echoed the injustice of it. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

At least they’d had enough time for James to share the details of the Graham attack on Werrick, as well as his missive to Lord Bastionbury. As he’d not yet heard from Bastionbury, James had finally conceded that it would be best to help Drake to escape. While James still didn’t like the man, Drake was loyal and could warn Lord Werrick of the impending attack.