‘Shortly after our wedding night, my husband went off, and he came back a corpse.’
‘I am sorry, lass.’ Bryce grabbed her hand, but Maren jerked it away.
‘Twas better for me that he did, for the wretch had not a jot of kindness in his soul, and I would have suffered married to him. As it was, I got off lightly when he died.’
Maren turned her back to Bryce and sat at the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the blankets, arms stiff as ramrods, and her head hung down.
Silence hung between them until Bryce spoke softly and kindly. ‘Did he hurt you, lass?’
‘No more than I expected, and I bore it well enough. But ‘twas nothing of love on my wedding night, nor tenderness. A young girl expects that, hopes for it, I think. Now, I know better than to expect kindness from men or to trust them to look after me.’ Strangely the memory of her awful wedding night no longer had the power to wound her. Her battered young girl’s heart had grown a hard shell since then.
She jumped when Bryce’s hand found her back, and he gently began to rub it. Maren let it lie, as he said, ‘Your husband was a fool to treat you so.’
She sighed. ‘I was one of many to him, and he is gone, and that is that. Soon after, my father bid me wed another, and I told him to go to hell. So he cast me out and told me to fend for myself.’
‘Alone in the Highlands, I am surprised you did not come to grief at the hands of strangers.’
‘No. I was lucky and met with the kindness of strangers instead. Bryce, I have not led the life you would imagine for one such as me.’
‘I am glad to hear it, lass, for I would not have you frightened and alone ever again. What became of you after you were cast out?’
No, she could not tell him all that. It would gut her to even speak of it. ‘I survived. There is nothing more to be said. So do not prod me for answers. Find entertainment elsewhere, for I am done with my tale of woe.’
Bryce continued to rub her back. Maren did not throw off his hand, for it was comforting, and she was eager to be distracted from her awful past. She turned to him. ‘What is your tale of woe beyond an unwelcome marriage to the beautiful Clara? You said you were in need of redemption. Confess your sins, Bryce Cullan.’
‘They are many and heinous, but I would not have you think ill of me so soon into our marriage. I have much to be ashamed of, you see.’ He winked and smiled, brushing off her question, but there was sadness behind his eyes. He was slippery like that, ducking and weaving when she probed too deep.
Bryce shook his head and sighed.
‘What?’ said Maren.
‘Men are fools. Your husband should have treated you like a queen. He should have cherished every moment in your presence. If you were mine, I would see you happy and adored.’
‘Adored. Is that your word for seduction?’
‘Not seduction, affection.’
‘And I am yours, remember. Bought and paid for.’
‘Only as long as you want to be, Maren,’ he said.
Bryce sat up, shoulder to shoulder with her, and slid his hand around the back of her head. Maren could have pulled away, but she did not. There was no explanation for her surrender other than she wanted to know what he tasted like. So instead of snapping at Bryce, she let him loom over her and pull her down underneath him. His hard body covered hers, solid and heavy, and his lips were warm and tasted of whisky. When he flicked his tongue inside her mouth, she met it with hers. They became a tangle of bodies, legs, mouths and bellies. Bryce lifted her skirt, and his hand slid up her thigh like a scorching brand.
Maren clutched at his back, and he moaned, and his mouth dipped to the top of her breast. He tugged her gown down, and a shiver of lust raised gooseflesh on her skin. When his hot mouth found her nipple, she gave a little cry, and Bryce stifled it with a hard kiss.
Try as she might, Maren could not resist his touch. It was as if her body had come to life, and all her youth and vigour demanded a release. Bryce’s fingers found the downy hair between her legs, and Maren melted into a puddle of lust.
‘So lovely,’ he breathed against her mouth. ‘So wet for me.’ His arousal was like an iron bar against her soft belly, his voice, all velvet persuasion as he pushed her legs apart with his knee and fumbled with his breeches. Suddenly, he was there, at the entrance to her body.
Bryce tenderly stroked her hair off her forehead and stared into her eyes. ‘Are you willing, lass? Do you want me? I would not have you any other way.’
Unbidden, the memory of her wedding night all those years ago slithered into her head. He was not Drayton, with his black eyes, snarling face, and rough fingers. Bryce was golden, beautiful, and gentle, his fingers teasing and tender all at once. He would not hurt her. He might even give her pleasure, and his powerful body was hers for the taking.
Maren swallowed and bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood. ‘No, I cannot. What if I get with child? Please, Bryce.’ She pushed gently at his chest and squirmed to get away.
He frowned, the light in his eyes dimming with disappointment. ‘In my ardour, I had not thought of that. So if you wish me to leave you be, I will not take you, lass.’ He rolled off her, and they both lay looking up at the bed’s canopy.
‘Forgive me. It was foolish of me to lie down with you for we are nought but strangers and so will we ever be,’ said Maren.
