“Do not move.” She clung to him. “Do not leave go of me. Not yet.”
He did not say what he should—that were they discovered, the consequences would come swift and hard. That she would pay as well as he.
She already knew.
“Husband,” she whispered, and claimed him all over again.
“Most beloved wife.”
At his words, she felt her heart break, shatter into a thousand pieces. For she was that, aye, now more than ever. How, by all the gods, could she go to another man?
How had she ever imagined lying with him once would be enough?
Suddenly she was trembling with emotion. She clung to him and he held her tight, no words necessary because he understood what she felt, and anyway, there was no comfort he could give.
At length, he began to kiss her again, and the magic once more crept over them so they moved, moved together. Their loving, pure and hot as lightning, became the only available refuge.
Bradana shattered. She came apart as even her heart had, but this time she gloried in it. And the words came in a flood.
“I never knew… I never knew lying wi’ a man would be like this.”
“Like this?” he questioned softly, his voice a mere breath in her ear.
“Och, well”—she tried to think about it—“I imagined the sensations would be enjoyable—though naught to what I feel when ye lay hands to me. And the kisses. The act itself. I never figured on the emotions. How I’d feel for ye after.”
She felt him smile against her cheek, where his face pressed. He drew her hair aside onto the bolster. “Or how ye have claimed me, Bradana? Body and soul.”
“Aye.”
“The way ye gave yourself to me.”
“The way I belong to ye and ye to me.”
He raised himself onto his elbows in an effort to look into her face. “Naught can change that now.”
“Naught can ever change it,” she agreed soberly. “And yet…” Should she tell him what she now felt more certain than ever? She could not go to Earrach. Why bring trouble to this man she adored when they had so little time left together?
Terror and victorious bliss tangled together inside her. All her life, she’d looked square at realities, dealt with life as it came. This, though, was different. She had no idea how to navigate what lay before her.
“’Twill likely be dawn soon,” she whispered. “I maun leave ye.”
“Aye.”
“But not yet.” She ran her fingers down the crisp hair on his chest, across the muscles of his abdomen, until she captured him between her hands. “Not before I have had a chance to taste ye everywhere.”
“Bradana—”
“Do no’ tell me nay. I will have ye. And I will remember.”
Dawn came more swiftly than it should. The start of Bradana’s wedding day. They’d had no sleep, but Bradana thought it a good bargain, for sleep might be had anytime. This man she loved, but for one night.
When at last she rose to put on her clothes, she went cold, missing Adair’s arms around her. The world came rushing in on a breath of winter. But he helped her dress, pinning the brooch upon her shoulder with his own hands and slipping the shoes onto her feet.
Then he stood looking into her face. “Ye will go carefully? ’Tis lighter out than I like.”
“I stayed longer than I should.” Yet in reward, she carried the flavor of him on her tongue.
“Bradana.” She’d never seen him look so serious. “I will challenge him this day. I will no’ stand by and watch ye wed wi’ him.”
