She found herself thinking about the man Bram had become. Though his exterior was guarded against any emotions, there were traces of the boy he’d been. The flower he’d left inside her glove . . . the way he’d held her so tightly upon his return. She believed there was more he felt for her, though he wouldn’t say it.
Nerves skittered within her stomach as she considered what would happen later, when they shared a bed. Beneath his façade of control, did any of their past feelings remain? Or was it merely wishful imaginings?
As they joined Lord Locharr and the other women for a light evening meal, Nairna wished she’d ignored her fears and succumbed to his touch. For now, she couldn’t stop thinking of it.
The night blurred with a sea of faces. Bram would have preferred to take his meal alone, in his room, but Nairna had wanted to speak with the women and children.
He watched her talk to them, moving from one person to the next. She listened to each of them, asking questions that he couldn’t hear from his position. When it was clear that she intended to speak with everyone, he excused himself from the table and retreated outside.
Noises and sounds overwhelmed him, and he needed the calm silence of the night. Overhead, the sky brewed heavy clouds that threatened to spill out with rain. He found Dougal curled up asleep in the stables, as if he were trying to guard the horses.
Grizel had hardly spared her youngest son a glance. It was as if all of them were dead to her. He didn’t understand why she would turn her back on Dougal. Though the lad was hot-tempered, it was only immaturity. He could see Dougal’s fierce craving for attention, even if Grizel couldn’t.
Bram continued past the inner curtain wall, walking without thought. The minutes dragged on and he settled back, sitting against the wall to stare at the moonlight.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Nairna. He wanted to strip away her clothing and lay her upon their bed, learning every part of her body.
Earlier, when he’d touched her intimately, he’d been heavily aroused by her wetness. To know that she desired him, that her body was ready for him to sink deep within her moist depths, was a startling discovery.
His mind had filled up with images of penetrating her, feeling the wetness enclosing him like a smooth sheath. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the instinctive needs that were claiming control of his mind. And then, as if to torment his mind further, he saw her walking toward him.
“There you are,” she said, reaching down a hand to him. He supposed she’d come to lead him back to their chamber.
But instead of taking her hand and rising, he didn’t move. If he touched her at all, he’d pull her into his lap and kiss her with all the pent-up savagery that lurked beneath.
Nairna lowered her hand, her face growing concerned. He took a deep breath. First one, then another, until he steadied his racing heart. The cold stone wall pressed against his spine and with his eyes closed, his senses grew calmer.
“Bram?” Confusion misted her features and she lowered her hand when he didn’t take it. “Is everything all right?”
He inclined his head, saying nothing more. He needed to seize control of his thoughts, to force the past back into the shadows.
“Some of the women have agreed to return,” Nairna told him. “Not everyone, but it’s a start.” Twisting her hands together, she added, “Grizel isn’t among them, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” He knew his mother had made her choice and nothing would soften her heart. He didn’t care what she thought of him, but it irritated him that she would also cut off Dougal.
The rain started to pour down at that moment, and Nairna reached for him again. This time, her hand closed over his, and she pleaded, “Come inside. Take shelter with me.”
The sky had turned the color of a dark bruise while the rain intensified. It spattered upon her flesh and gown, giving him little choice but to follow her. As they entered the keep, he imagined peeling off her gown from her body, tasting the droplets of rain from her skin. He wanted to drink from her, to satiate the thirst that grew within him.
They crossed over to the spiral staircase, avoiding the crowd of women and children. He let Nairna lead him above stairs, and as she walked, he stared at her slender figure and the way her body moved with grace.
When they reached the bedchamber, he closed the door behind them and lowered the bar. Outside, the rain poured down upon the roof, the sound strangely comforting.
Nairna was saying something about Lord Locharr and the women, but damned if he had any idea what words had just come out of her mouth. He stared at her, mutely aware that she’d unfastened her hair and the wet strands rested upon her shoulders. She backed up to him, pulling her hair over one shoulder while she continued talking.
“Will you help me with this?” she asked.
Bram stared at her bared neck, and the urge to kiss the exposed skin grew stronger. Nairna struggled to lift away the sodden surcoat.
The damp silk was like a fire to his arousal, burning away his defenses as he unlaced her. Beneath her gown, the wet shift revealed the dusky rose of her nipples. Lust speared him—God above, he wanted her. But he was afraid that if he dared to touch her, he would forget himself and behave like an animal.
Nairna went to search among her belongings and withdrew the smooth stone he’d given her before. “I kept this with me when you left to go after Callum. Like a charm to bring you back to me.”
She pressed it into his hand to hold, then unfolded something else. It was a faded crimson ribbon, ragged at the edges. She reached up to her wet hair and tied it back with the ribbon. “And you gave me this when we were young.”
“You kept it.” He never imagined she would, after all these years.
“It was the only thing I had left of you.”
