Home > Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(46)

Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(46)
Author: Maya Banks

She’d thought his prideful statement to be a natural boast of a newly married man.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled as she contemplated the possibilities. She knew it was her duty to provide heirs for Caelen. ’Twas a duty she owed her clan as well, to provide them with the next laird.

But ’twas God’s truth, she wasn’t sure she was up to the task quite yet.

It wouldn’t cause her distress if ’twas a little while longer before her womb bore fruit.

CHAPTER 20

Rionna was fair to falling over by the time Caelen sought their chamber. She’d sat by the fire yawning for the past hour, waiting for him to come to bed.

When he opened the door and stepped inside, he looked surprised to see her. Then a faint frown drew his brows together.

“You shouldn’t have waited up for me. ’Tis late and you have need of your rest.”

It would have been a thoughtful statement if he hadn’t accentuated it with that frown.

Ignoring his gruffness, she rose and went to help him undress. He went still as she unlaced the leather ties of his trews. So still that she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

When her fingers brushed his firm belly, he flinched. She was sorely tempted to run her palm up his midriff to his chest, but she was going to properly attend him first.

She guided him toward the chair she’d vacated by the fire and urged him down. He watched through half-lidded eyes as she tugged at his tunic and then pulled it over his head, baring his broad, hair-roughened chest.

She sucked in her breath. The man was beautiful. Never had she seen his equal. She fingered a puckered scar across his right shoulder and slid her hand lower to a much older, nearly flat scar on his left flank. She frowned as she studied it. ’Twas a knife wound.

“Someone stabbed you from behind,” she mused as she knelt to give it a closer look.

He stiffened, his muscles coiling and going rigid. His profile was set in stone as he stared into the fire.

“Aye.”

She waited but he offered nothing more.

“Who did this?”

“No one of import.”

She leaned forward and kissed the scar. He reacted in surprise, turning, his arm raised so he didn’t elbow her in the head. Then he lowered his hand to her hair and stroked his fingers through the strands.

He ran his fingers over her jaw and then cupped her chin, tilting it so that she looked up at him. A teasing glint twinkled in his green eyes.

“I barely recognize the woman before me. She’s acting almost like a wife. What has happened to my fierce warrior? I came in to a fine table. The lady of the keep directed the welcoming of my kin and she played hostess to my brother’s wife. And if that wasn’t enough, she awaited me in my chamber to attend me with a gentle hand and a soft mouth?”

She scowled up at him. “ ’Tis true what they say of men.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Aye. They never know when to keep their mouths shut.”

He chuckled and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip and then lowered his mouth to hers until they touched in a most gentle fashion.

“I was proud of you this day, Rionna. You speak of having none of the social graces of a lady and yet you performed as a laird’s wife would be expected.”

“I would not shame you in front of your kin,” she whispered.

He kissed her again and then drew away to pull at his boots. When he was done, he sat there, laces undone at his waist, shirtless, his flesh gleaming in the firelight. He was a feast for her eyes and she was determined that on this night she’d have him.

Her gaze skittered downward to the bulge at the apex of his thighs. With only a little encouragement, he would be free of his trews.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Caelen regarded her lazily, the spark of amusement back in his gaze. “ ’Tis a universal truth that when a lass says she’s been thinking, a man ought to be wary.”

She moved between his legs and ran her hand up his thigh to cup him intimately. “I was thinking that since I did harm to a portion of your anatomy you favored that I could make it up to you. But if you’re wary.…”

He caught his breath. “Nay. Not wary. Not wary at all.” Then he reached down to cup her chin again, his thumb brushing over the spot where her bruising was fading. “Are you sure ’tis something you wish to do, lass?”

Her heart clenched at the concern in his voice. He’d treated her with the utmost care since her attack. He’d only touched her to offer comfort or to ensure himself that she was all right. It was almost as if he’d worried that he would frighten her or remind her in some way of the men who had hurt her.

“ ’Tis my wish that you allow me to have my way this night.”

“Your way? ’Tis the truth I’ll grant such a wish every night if you desire it.”

She reached inside his clothing and caressed the long, rigid length of him. His breath hissed out in the silence. He gripped her shoulders with both hands and then abruptly stood. In a moment’s time he’d torn the offending material from his body and tossed it across the room.

Her gaze slid up his body, illuminated by flame, so exquisitely rendered. The body of a warrior, not a lad. Heavily muscled. Scarred. Rough.

At his groin, his manhood extended from the dark whorl of hair, thick and heavy.

“ ’Tis a sight destined to seduce a man,” Caelen rasped as he stared down at her kneeling at his feet.

She smiled. “You like a woman at your feet?”

“I’m not a stupid man. Admitting such would be akin to cutting off my cods.”

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