The most precious he’d had in many long years.
“Yon wretch was not one of the dragons I meant to slay for you,” he said, carrying her from the hall. “I believe it is time for us to challenge the true ones.”
“Oh?” She leaned back to peer at him, astonishment in her sapphire eyes. “Are you not-”
“Aye, my love, I am too weary even for that fair bliss,” he answered honestly, wishing it wasn’t so.
Wishing desperately it wasn’t so.
“But,” he said as he began the circuitous climb to her bedchamber, “I’ve brought a fine bullock for your table, and as soon as thistruewedding feast is past us, I shall fulfill every one of my promises.”
“You are a good man,” she said, her eyes shining.
“I amyourman.”
He paused to kiss her. Deeply, and with all the fierce exultation she stirred in his soul. He drew back only when the last traces of stiffness eased out of her and she relaxed in his arms, the soft sigh escaping her, enough.
For the moment.
“This night, my heart, a bath and a warm bed will suffice,” he said, pleased when she didn’t balk at his use of the wordbed.
Bed, not pallet.
“I ask only that you let me hold you,” he said, resuming their climb up the turnpike stair. “That, and savor your warmth.”
Chapter 37
Much later, in the stillest hour of the night, Caterine stood beside her bed and looked down at the man sleeping so soundly within its curtained depths. He’d done as he’d promised, cradling her as the stronghold quieted and night settled around them. Even so, she clenched her hands against her mounting frustration.
She wanted more than being held.
She wanted…
She didn’t know. But her heart pounded slow and hard as fire glow stole across his back. The silvery ridges of his scars twisted her heart, while his broad shoulders and the well-muscled arm he’d slung over a pillow, tempted her to touch him.
To heed the desire burning so deep inside her.
She shivered as feelings stirred. A tight, breathless need as sweet and rare as the clear and lustrous night stretching beyond her bedchamber’s arch-topped windows.
A glittering expanse, as endless as the sea.
A magical night.
For once swept clean of clouds and mist, and studded with countless twinkling stars. Cold and distant each one, but winking down at her with encouraging smiles.
Still, dare she awaken her husband and tell him she desired more than sleep this night? That she hoped he’d join her in an ancient, pagan rite practiced by her Highland ancestors as easily as they strode the heather-covered hills?
Her wish, a rite that, though once sacred, might draw an amused smile, or worse, reproach?
Not sure how he’d respond, she glanced across the room to the shadowy window embrasure. With the winter sea and icy north wind making a more traditional blessing impossible, leastways not advisable, the alcove with its sweeping views of sea and sky would have to suffice, and would, she was sure.
Yet…
Could she be so bold?
The stars winked…yes.
Her pulse quickening, and before her nerve left her, she cast another look at her sleeping husband, then crossed the room and claimed one of the two bench-style seats carved into the stone walls of the window alcove.
