Trulie pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, the first time for the woman isn’t always one of the more stellar moments on the toe-curling-passion scale.”
“I’m not saying it was bad.” Kenna took a deep breath. What the hell was she trying to say? Even she didn’t know. “And I’m not even sure he’ll remember it.” She held the cloak against the plucking fingers of the briny wind coming in from the sea. She really needed to get inside and get some sleep. Her worries had kicked into overdrive last night and prevented anything more than uneasy dozing. “And I don’t have a clue about what I should do now. I’m afraid I’ve overplayed my hand.”
“What do you mean he may not remember it?” Trulie arched a brow at Kenna’s exposed bare leg as the wind whipped at the tail of the cloak. “And are you naked under there?”
“Yes, I am naked.” Kenna quickened her pace toward the keep as she clutched the cloak tighter around her legs. “And he might not remember it because I think he was well oiled with whisky.”
Trulie’s expression shifted to one of immediate understanding. “I would lay odds he’ll remember. Our strong bonnie Scots handle a wee dram quite well.”
“You need to work on your accent.” Kenna stomped along the path faster. She was in no mood to joke around. She pulled up short as they reached the door, ran a thumb along the cool iron latch, and white-knuckled the handle. “So, you think it’ll be different next time?” If there even was a next time. How could she get Trulie to understand how confused she was about the way things had been last night and what her next move should be?
Trulie pulled Kenna’s hand away from the latch and cradled it between her hands. “It takes time for two people to open up to the love and trust it takes to create an unforgettable joining. You have to learn each other—feel each other’s needs and wants. It’s not all about animal instinct and humping your way to the perfect bump and grind. Great sex—truly satisfying sex—doesn’t just happen. You have to work at it with someone you love.”
“Work at it?”
“Yep.” Trulie grinned. “Trust me. It’s the only job you will ever really love.”
“Yeah . . . well . . . I’m not even sure I’ve been hired for the job.” Kenna pushed through the door to the keep and held it open for Karma and Trulie to follow. “What if it didn’t mean anything to him? What if he decides to ride off into the sunset anyway? You heard what he said about being my champion or protector.” She plodded down the hallway. “I don’t need a champion or protector. I just need him.”
“What has Granny told you about thewhat-ifgame?” Trulie said as she led the way up the spiraling staircase.
Kenna padded along behind her. “I don’t need Granny lectures right now.” And she didn’t. She needed Trulie to come up with a good solid plan and help her execute it. Good heavens, she never thought marrying a man would take a full-scale Sinclair battle plan.
Trulie stopped in front of Kenna’s bedchamber and pushed the door open. “I’ll have Coira draw you up a bath—a nicehotbath. Catch a nap, then have a good long soak. We’ll figure this out, don’t you worry.”
“I’m counting on you, Sis, because we all know how well my last plan worked.”
Trulie snorted. “Yeah, we won’t talk about theI’ll-just-make-him-jealous planagain—ever.”
CHAPTER39
Without opening his eyes, he rolled to his side and reached for her warmth. The cold, rough weave of the thick pallet scratched against his fingers. Colum jerked to a sitting position, immediately wide awake. A dull pounding behind his eyes slowed his movements as he looked around the tack room. Where was she? Had last night’s bit of heaven been no more than a whisky-fueled dream?
He cupped his aching head between his hands. Not possible. Such pleasure could never have been just a dream. Slowly, he rose to his feet, ripping his plaid away from the dull gray bedding as he stood. There. Right there was the proof—the small dark stain where his love had bestowed upon him the most precious gift of all.
Emotions stronger than any he had ever felt swept over him and threatened to push him back to his knees.Mine.He stared down at the telltale stain.Forever mine.He scrubbed his fingertips against the stubble of his jawline as he sidled back and forth alongside the bedding. He had finally laid claim to the woman he had never truly believed he would ever have.
Now what was he to do?
Possibilities, hopes, and fears raced through him as he yanked hisléineon over his head and wrapped his plaid around his body. After last night, there was no way in hell he was waiting until he had built a keep or acquired a bit of wealth before they wed. He wanted Kenna. Now. Tied to him and unavailable to any other man for all eternity—and he was damn sure going to make certain that eternity started now.
The door to the tack room creaked out a warning as Gray pushed through it. “There ye be. Why the hell did ye not sleep in yer rooms?”
“That makes no difference now.” Colum waved away Gray’s question. “I need yer council and yer help—as friend . . . and chieftain.”
Gray’s face darkened as he folded his arms across his chest and lowered his chin in a slow nod. “Name it.”
“Kenna must be mine.”
The scowl disappeared from Gray’s face and he relaxed back against the broad post of the doorway. “Agreed.”
“My wife.” He had to make sure Gray fully understood the severity of the situation.
“Aye.” Gray nodded, his smile growing ever wider.
Colum sucked in a deep breath, then swallowed hard against the knot of pride about to choke off his wind. “I have no keep and I canna provide for a wife and bairns as Clan MacKenna’s man-at-arms.”
Gray pushed away from the wall; his attention drawn to the disheveled bedding in the center of the room as he eased around it in a tight circle. He stopped walking, his focus trained on the telltale sign spotting the weave. “I see.”
