The smoldering glance she gave him shot a bolt of desire through him.His eyes darkened.His chest swelled.And betwixt his legs, the beast roused.
In one way, that was good.Healthy lust added authenticity to their claim they were newly married.
But they’d both had enough wine to be careless.And if they got distracted, mistakes might be made.
She was staring at his mouth now.She wanted him to kiss her.
He wanted to.God, how he wanted to.And he suspected she wouldn’t pull away.
But he couldn’t.
Surely it was unseemly to kiss at the table, wasn’t it?
On the other hand, perhaps everyone would assume they were simply enthusiastic newlyweds.
Or they could claim it was Irish tradition to kiss after blancmange.
He took a deep preparatory breath.
Then, before he could close the distance and press his lips to hers, the maidservant Tilda poked her head between them.
“If ye’re ready,” she said, turning her head to speak to each of them, “I’ll send the servants to fetch water for your bath now.”
Aillenn gave a stunned nod.
Tilda smiled.“Would ye be wantin’ assistance?”
“Nay,” Adam hurried to say.“We can manage on our own.”
He remembered the chairs positioned near the tub.The last thing he needed was Pitcairn deciding to “assist” Aillenn with her bath.
The rest of the dinner discussion was a blur to Adam.All he could think about was the sultry fire in Aillenn’s eyes and the tempting, forbidden fruit of her mouth.The animal raging in his braies refused to be leashed.
Somehow he managed to thank Pitcairn for his hospitality.
Somehow he bid farewell to the other nobles and bowed to the ladies.
Somehow he followed Aillenn and the maidservant up the stairs to the guest chamber.
But all the while he sailed adrift in a languorous haze of longing.Imagining Aillenn slowly removing her gown.Baring her lovely breasts.Sliding her leine over the graceful curve of her hips.
“The servants will be up presently,” Tilda told him.
He nodded, not truly hearing her words.
Then she closed the door to give them privacy.
He stared down at the latch, steeling himself to face the woman he desired beyond reason.The woman who seared his blood and confounded his brain.The woman he knew he dared not approach.
No sooner did he turn than she rushed at him, pushing him back against the door.
He sucked in a breath as she pressed hungry lips to his.Tasting him.Savoring him.Devouring him.She clenched her fists in his shirt and moaned softly in her throat.
She tasted of wine and blancmange and longing.And the sensation shredded whatever bit of restraint he had before.
He answered her kiss with a passion that bubbled up from his loins, overflowing reason like pottage overboiling on the fire.
Who was this woman who shifted from shy virgin to masterful temptress in a heartbeat?
