"She is hunting you for a lover?"
"My guess is that she is hunting me for a husband, that her own probably left her penniless. I saw the mon but two years ago. Drunk he was, and talking most freely. He said the only good thing he got from marrying Barbara was his two sons. He e'en said he wasnae all that certain the second lad was his since his wife was having an affair with his nephew. Decided the blood of the boy was that of a MacLean so it wasnae so bad. Also complained that the woman would leave him poor as dirt if she could, but that he had finally shut the money chest on her greedy fingers and swore that she would ne'er get any more out of it. I think he held to that vow."
Those were not very loverlike words, Jolene decided, and relaxed a little. “Why would she think you would marry her?"
"Because ten years ago I was a fool of a lad, lust-crazed, fair blinded by it, and, aye, flattered by the attention of such a bonnie, highborn lass. I was about two and twenty, but nay as worldly as I liked to think I was.” He pulled off his shirt and pointed to the bands of design on each upper arm, the marks that would be with him until he was dust in the ground. “I had this done to impress her. Near killed me for it festered and a fever set in. Ye see, I had heard her remark upon such markings, ones she had seen upon another mon and I wished to hear her speak of me with the same admiration. She has ne'er seen them."
Jolene was beginning to wish she had not asked about Barbara. That he would do such a thing just to hear the woman speak well of him implied an intensity of emotion he had never revealed to her. Perhaps what she had judged as unloverlike words were actually ones of anger and a lingering pain. It was possible to soothe a wounded heart, but she was not sure she had the skill or the time, especially not if this Barbara was intent upon winning him back.
"I find them very attractive,” she said, feeling foolish until he smiled at her. “She chose another man?"
"She had already chosen him, and held to that choice e'en as she played her games with me. Old Laird MacLean, a mon thirty years older than she, looking for a young wife to give him a son, and with a verra full purse. She just wanted to enjoy a few young men ere she was married."
"A few?"
"Aye, a few. I went to see her once I had recovered from my fever and these markings had healed. Thought to send her word that I wished to see her, but decided I would surprise her. I did that. Surprised the mon on top of her, too."
"Oh, dear.” It was a little difficult to imagine Sigimor as an unworldly young man, but she could easily sympathize with anyone who found their lover in the arms of another.
"Fortunately, that moment of surprise didnae come until I had heard enough to ken what a fool I had been. She spoke of her marriage to MacLean come the morning and was assuring the braw laddie in her arms that it wouldnae change what was between them. Her first words when she saw me were demands that I say nothing to Laird MacLean. I told the mon with her to carry on, spat out some insults about nay wanting such a weel used lass, and left. I did think on telling MacLean, but I couldnae find the mon, leastwise nay until I was sick unto death of the whole matter and decided to return to Dubheidland. A few times o'er the years she has tried to catch my eye, but, e'en if I was a mon who could cuckold another, I wasnae interested."
Which made Barbara even more determined to have him, Jolene mused. She had thought to make herself feel better, to bury that flare of jealousy over this woman, but this talk had failed to fully accomplish that. It had not even truly clarified what Barbara was to him. He spoke of lust, not love, but men did seem to be wary of that word. If he had felt something more than lustful and flattered, there could be some real trouble ahead for her. Barbara did not sound like a woman who would give up if she wanted something, and it appeared that she now wanted Sigimor. Jolene was pulled from her thoughts when a now naked Sigimor stepped in front of her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her cheek.
"Dinnae frown, wife,” he said. “She is naught but a bad memory of a lad's foolishness."
"Is she?” Jolene felt herself blush over the way he was looking at her from head to toe. “She is looking for you, Sigimor. From all you have just told me, she is not the sort of woman to give up a hunt."
"That doesnae mean she will net her game. I am nay longer that lad, unworldly and blind to her faults. Now, where did ye get this wisp of naught made to tempt a poor mon?"
"From Fiona. Tis one of those things you said you saw no reason for."
"I think I may be about to change my mind."
Glancing down at the stout proof of his arousal, Jolene murmured, “I can see that."
A little hesitantly she reached out to touch him there. He uttered a soft groan, but the way he moved his hips, pushing himself more snugly into her grasp, told her that was a sound of approval. Jolene wrapped her fingers around him, intrigued by the feel of him. He felt so hard and hot against her palm, yet silken soft as well. He also seemed to grow harder and bigger as she stroked him. Jolene was still slightly amazed that he could fit the thing inside her.
If Barbara was the wanton Sigimor's tale seemed to imply, Jolene suspected the woman recalled Sigimor's manly attributes very well indeed. She had seen enough younger men to know they still had a boyish softness to their looks and that many of them had not yet reached their full breadth and height. Since Sigimor did not look like a man carrying thirty-plus years, she was sure he had looked more youth than man ten years ago. A woman like Lady Barbara had probably seen his potential and was now looking to see if he had fulfilled it. In fact, if it had not been very long since he had last seen the woman, she might already know. Sigimor seemed to think Lady Barbara sought a new husband with a fat purse, but Jolene suspected the woman also had a few more earthy reasons for hunting him down.
Jolene decided that, if the woman came to Dubheidland, she would find her hunt was not an easy one. Although she was still unsure of what the future held for her and Sigimor, right now he was hers. Being Sigimor's wife gave her a lot of advantages over any interloper, and Jolene intended to make full use of each and every one of them. This passion she and Sigimor shared was definitely one of those advantages.
Sigimor savored the touch of Jolene's slender fingers for as long as he dared. When she slid her soft hand between his legs, however, to gently caress his sac, he knew he had to put a halt to her play. If he did not, there was a good chance he would be spending himself in her hand like some beardless virgin lad.
"Enough, wife,” he said as he gently tugged her hand away. “Nearly too much."
"I should not do that?” Jolene suddenly feared she had been too bold, or, worse, had caused discomfort instead of pleasure.
"Ye can do it whene'er ye wish. Tis just that the feel of your soft hand is a pleasure I cannae enjoy for too long.” He smiled faintly at her look of confusion. “I would be done, lass, ere I had given ye any pleasure at all."
"Oh.” She blushed as he began to unlace her night shift. “Should we not move to the bed?"
"Nay. I have me a craving to love ye right here on this soft sheepskin before the fire."
She felt a shiver of anticipation go through her body as he carefully removed her shift. Sigimor and the passion they shared were swiftly stripping away her reserve, her uncertainty, and even her modesty. Although her blushes still burned her skin, she felt no more hesitation whenever desire stirred within her. When he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, she moved against him and savored the feel of his warm flesh against her own. She realized that, not only did she no longer feel any hesitation, she was more than willing to go wherever he led her. She was even beginning to have a few ideas of her own.
When he ended the kiss, she was not surprised to hear herself murmur a protest for she did love his kisses. It quickly changed to a murmur of pleasure as he kissed his way to her breasts, all the while caressing her body with his big, strong hands. The feel of his mouth upon her breasts made her tremble, her need growing with every flick of his tongue and each tug of his mouth as he suckled.
The feelings he could stir within her should frighten her, but she found them exhilarating. With each kiss, each caress, Sigimor gave life to an unfettered wildness within her. Jolene decided she liked that part of her, welcomed that woman who let her desire run free. That woman saw no boundaries and heeded no rules. She reached for the pleasure Sigimor offered with both hands and reveled in it. She also tried to return it to her man in full measure.
