Bridei was watching her. “I won’t tie you again until you’ve eaten. Sit.”
He gestured to one of the simple wooden chairs by the fireplace, and she sat. Bridei dragged the small table over next to her. He had left the door open, and moments later a young woman—presumably Seecha—bustled in with a steaming wooden bowl. She placed in on the table and laid a spoon on the side, glancing shyly at Nessa.
“Thank you”, Nessa said, offering an uncertain smile, and the girl pressed her lips together and nodded. Starving, she picked up the spoon and took a bite. Her taste buds met with a warm, meaty flavor. “This is delicious, what is it?”
“Lamb stew,” Seecha said, now with a small but proud grin. She was obviously the one who had prepared it and appreciated the complement.
Nessa stared for a moment at the contents of the bowl in front of her as images of severed, dripping lamb heads in baskets danced through her mind. With a sigh, she shrugged and took another bite. Good thing she’d grown up on a farm.
“That will be all for now. You may go.”
Seecha left the room at his command, and Bridei pulled up another chair and sat across from Nessa, watching her eat in stony silence. Or was it thoughtful silence? Either way, his closeness was making her nervous. And when she got nervous, she fought back against whatever was making her anxious. She always had. It had gotten her into trouble more than once as a child. If he wanted to intimidate her with dark looks and the threat of bodily harm, she would show him he didn’t frighten her at all. She was going to enjoy her dinner as if she were in a five-star restaurant.
Pretending to ignore him, she set about relishing her meal, closing her eyes and savoring each bite, sucking it from the spoon with a small moan of pleasure.
The King shifted in his chair and glared at her. “What are you doing?”
She looked up, as if just noticing him there. “Eating. I’m hungry. Starving, actually. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
He crossed his arms, which were bare in his sleeveless leather tunic. “You are lucky I am feeding you at all. You are not a guest here; you are being held on suspicion of spying.”
Nessa paused with her spoon in midair. So it was official then. “But I’mnota spy. In fact, I would make a horrible spy.”
“We’ll see. I have ways of knowing for certain, and I will find out, one way or another.”
She dropped her spoon into the bowl, her brief act of bravado falling away like the illusion it was. “What can I do to prove it to you? I’m lost. I only want to go home.”
“I thought you said you were going to meet your future husband, to be married.”
Damn it, this was why she never lied!She tossed up her hands. “I never said Iwantedto be married. I’d rather go home.” Tears threatened, burning her eyes, and she picked up her spoon again, sucking another spoonful of stew into her mouth to cover it up. She would have married Nathan in a heartbeat right then if she could only have gotten back to him.
Bridei abruptly took the bowl and spoon away from her, and she protested. “Hey! I wasn’t finished!”
“But Iam.” He took her by the arm and pulled her out of the chair. She stood up as he did so, and was wrenched forward, falling solidly against him. Their bodies came into full contact: from where her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest, to where their thighs met. Even their eyes were locked together. He flinched as if she had burned him, and she heard him inhale sharply.
Nessa was tired and frightened and uncertain of everything she had ever thought to be true, but for a moment she was reluctant to move away from Bridei. He was warm and solid, and everywhere their bodies touched her skin was tingling. She could smell him; that dark musky scent that made her want to lean in and breath him deeper. Little butterflies escaped from the flock in her stomach, and fluttered through her whole body. Was that his heart beating so fast, or was it hers?
He stepped away from her suddenly, breaking whatever hazy spell she had fallen under. He kept hold of her arm and dragged her to the post. He seemed angry now, though she didn’t know what she had done to make him so.
“Sit.”
She leaned against the smooth wood, sliding slowly down until she was sitting with her back against it. “Do you really have to tie me up again?”
“Aye. Until I know your truth.”
He leaned over her, and with curt, jerky movements, reached for the ropes and secured her wrists in knots that she knew from recent experience she wouldn’t be able to loosen no matter how hard she tried.
Bridei was restless, his body aching with lust long after he had tied up his lovely captive. He swore his skin still burned where her body had touched his. And her scent…so strangely familiar and so intoxicating. Perhaps he had left his body wanting for too long, and he only needed to sate his hunger between a woman’s soft thighs.Anywoman. Sometimes he longed for the carefree days of his youth, when taking a woman was as easy and natural as breathing.
Then he became King, and those carefree days had to be left behind. He was always careful, now. As King, he had become the target of many a woman’s attempts to ensnare him over the years. Bedding the King, having the King’s bastard child, were the goals of many an ambitious woman. Things were no longer as simple as they once were, and he wouldn’t allow any such complications to enter his life. Hewouldreunite the Pictish tribes. Hewouldrout the Saxons from the lands that rightfully belonged to his people. He couldn’t do those things if his mind was constantly on his cock. Lust that distracted and hindered was the weakness of many a man, but it had never been one of his. He wasn’t about to let it become one now.
Bridei clenched his fists and drew in a deep breath, shifting in his chair at the head of the great hall. He knew he couldn’t concentrate with his body so aroused. His physical needs would be met, and that was all. His eyes landed on a tall and willowy woman on the other side of the hall, one who was already watching him with a hungry gaze. He smiled slowly, deliberately. The woman was called Lair. She was a young widow, and known to be barren. A perfect companion for his needs. They had been together several times before, and he knew she would accommodate him, and eagerly too. She would take it as hard and rough as he could give it, and not complain. He crooked a finger, and she came towards him, hips swaying provocatively. Without a word, he rose from his chair and walked toward the door, knowing she would follow.
He led her into the humble roundhouse that had been his home long before he’d become King and moved into the broch. He opened the thick wooden door, and followed Lair inside. He went to the fire that Namet had already lit for him and took out a burning twig with iron tongs, using it to light the oil lamp on the table. The dim light showed him his conquest, already naked on his bed.
“Eager, are you?”
“Aye, my King. I am always eager for you.”
