The Recruit (Highland Guard #6)(75)

“Perhaps,” she managed evasively.

He studied her over the rim of his cup, as if he’d sensed somehow that he’d struck a nerve and was trying to determine the source.

She went back to work so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes, but kept pricking herself with the needle under the weight of his scrutiny.

As the moment of silence stretched, her heartbeat seemed to quicken. Her hands dampened. Her throat grew dry. The bundle of nerves knotting in her stomach returned, as did the butterflies fluttering in her chest.

He, too, appeared increasingly edgy. He stood to replenish his cup, muttering something about whisky. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him toss back the cup and take a long drink of wine before slamming it down on the table.

“Are you going to do that all night?” he snapped.

She put down her embroidery slowly, realization dawning. My God, he’s nervous! It seemed inconceivable that this arrogant, cocky warrior with his own retinue of female admirers could be nervous. It was charming—and rather sweet. Two words she’d never thought to use to describe him.

“I can put it aside now, if you’d like.”

All of a sudden his demeanor changed. He swore and dragged his hands through his still damp hair. “Hell, I’m sorry.” He gave her another one of those boyishly wry smiles that landed in her chest with a thump. “I’ve never done this before.” She lifted her brow, and he laughed. “Had a wedding night,” he clarified.

She had, but nothing about that night reminded her of tonight. Then she’d been a frightened girl, ignorant of what was to come, and in awe of her much older husband. She’d been so shy and intimidated, she’d barely said a word to him. She remembered disappointment, pain, and shame.

Now she was a woman, only a few years younger than he, scarred by the past, perhaps, but also stronger. Bolder. Wiser. She was no longer in awe of a handsome knight, knowing there were no heroes, only men. She was still frightened, perhaps, but by the anticipation. By how much she wanted this. How much she wanted him. He had spoken to her more in the past few minutes than Atholl had their entire marriage.

“I should think it would be like any other night,” she said, trying to hide her amusement. “But if you like, we can wait—”

It was the wrong thing to say. Or perhaps the right thing. He crossed the room in three strides and lifted her from the chair to her feet. His arms wrapped around her. “Not a chance, my lady wife. You won’t get out of it that easily.”

Get out of it. As he took her in his arms, and that delicious warmth spread over her, she was certain that was what she should want to do. Should.

Seventeen

The anticipation had been building inside him all day. By the time Kenneth walked into the room, he was ready to pick her up, toss her on the bed, and lose himself in mindless oblivion.

He hadn’t had a woman in …

He didn’t want to think about how long. Had he made love with another women since that night at Dunstaffnage? He couldn’t remember. Liar.

He’d been angry at first and then too busy, damn it. He’d been focused on earning his way into the Guard.

There had been opportunities; he just hadn’t much felt like acting on them. Even no effort had seemed like too much. Which sure as hell didn’t explain all the effort he was going to for her.

Despite the deprived state of his cock, and that it didn’t seem to take more than a glimpse of her to put him in a very pained state, he’d forced himself to take it slow. Wooing. Seducing. Putting her at ease.

Nothing that should have made him feel so damned nervous. Nervous? Hell, he hadn’t ever been nervous with a woman. Ever. Even when he was young and inexperienced enough to warrant it.

But then again, he’d never made love to his wife before. He’d never cared about getting something so right. He wanted it to be perfect. For his mission, of course.

But the moment he wrapped her in his arms, the edginess seemed to disappear. He was back on solid ground. No more thinking. No more talking. Time to let instinct take over.

“I wasn’t trying to get out of it,” she whispered.

“You weren’t?” His hand took a long, slow journey down her spine; he loved the way she shuddered against him.

She shook her head.

She looked so sweet he had to kiss her. His mouth covered hers with a groan. Hunger rose inside him like a maelstrom, but he forced himself to slow. Tasting the honey sweetness of her lips with a gentle caress. Letting his mouth move over hers in a smooth, sensual dance.

But damn, she felt good. He slid his tongue deeper and deeper in her mouth the way he wanted to make love to her. He started to tighten his arms to fit her more closely against him, when the swell of her stomach stopped him.

Hell, how could he have not considered the babe?

He lifted his head. “Perhaps this isn’t a good idea.”

Her expression changed in an instant, from soft and aroused to pale and crestfallen. And something else he couldn’t quite identify—almost vulnerable.

She dropped her gaze and tried to pull away. “Of course. I see myself every day, so I don’t realize how much I must have changed.”

He frowned. What in Hades was she talking about? As the thought had never occurred to him, it took him a minute to realize what she meant. He caught her before she could slip away. “You have changed. You are even more beautiful than you were before.”