CHAPTERNINETEEN
Lorna had been taught to hold a sword from the time she could walk. It was light and comfortable in her hands and yet as she stared at her terribly handsome sparring partner, her confidence faltered. Hadn’t she dreamed of proving herself to people? Wasn’t this a perfect opportunity to do so? And yet, she still cared about what Bryce thought, and she knew that he was a good fighter too. One of the best. She had never fought in a war, only in training, and she gravely felt her lack of real life skills.
Thinking of Bryce’s abilities, her mind returned to the moment she saw his naked chest gleaming with sweat under the sunlight as he skillfully fought her brother. His muscles had bulged and flexed, and it had caused all sorts of things to happen to her insides. This time, thankfully, in the low light of the armory, he kept on a light tunic; but it was unbuttoned to a V in front, and so she could catch a glimpse of the hardness beneath. His hair was still tied back making him look rakish, or even like a pirate or highwayman.
The stubble of a close-clipped beard was on his strong chin, and his blue eyes were watching her. He was moving the hilt of the sword in his hands; twisting and testing it, keeping his wrist light. Lorna could understand why others might fear the man and why he had gotten a reputation as such a powerful, fearsome warrior. She also knew why he had gotten the reputation of a dangerous womanizer. Tall, strong, skilled, with a gaze that could melt ice in an instant.
“Are ye ready?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound like her mouth was completely dry. They were alone, for Athol had gone to see to his men, and Kyla had conveniently disappeared. It was a wide, low room, and weapons hung all around them. A narrow corridor led away to the keep’s dungeons. Growing up, Lorna had always viewed this room as stark, serious, and a little scary, but now she was thinking of it in an entirely different manner.
“Aye, Lorna. Ready.” He paused. “Now, I willnae pretend tae be bad, but I willnae swing as hard as I would if I was attempting tae kill someone. Surely ye can understand that.” He lifted his brows at her, waiting.
She nodded. “Aye, of course. We cannae spar as if we mean tae kill. But I willnae accept ye acting slow or stupid, just tae humor me. Me brother never does, for he enjoys the competition.”
“As do I.” Bryce grinned and said, “Take yer place.”
Lorna narrowed her eyes, took a breath, and made her stance. She had changed into a lighter gown, but her skirts might still impede her if she wished to spin or do anything to outrageous. She hoped that their sparring would remain right in front of her, but she couldn’t be sure. She could see a teasing glint in Bryce’s eye. He was truly enjoying this. If she was being honest with herself, so was she.
“Begin,” she said, taking the first move toward him. His blade glinted off hers with quickness, and they sparred back and forth until he drew closer and took a large swing. She ducked out of the way and then was up again, swinging back with a vengeance. After a few minutes, her breath came fast, and she was beginning to sweat. But a smile was on her face.
“Ye are good,” she said breathlessly.
“So are ye,” Bryce said with a bright smile. He swung again, and then he changed hands, making her decide to change hands as well. “But are ye as good on yer other side?”
“Ha!” she said, “Ye are teasing me.”
“Only for the fun of it. I do enjoy it so.”
He lunged forward with his blade, but she dodged it, getting a big smile from him, and then she spun, despite the difficulty of her skirts, knocked his blade out of his hand, and pressed the tip of hers to his neck.
Bryce paused, grinning, and then put his hands up slowly in surrender. “It seems ye have beaten me, lass. Well done. The men I fight are far larger and slower than ye. That is why I wanted tae fight ye. I need tae practice being prepared for more speed.”
Lorna stared hard at him. His words were not said in jest, and yet she worried that she couldn’t believe him. Had he truly tried his best or was he just humoring her? She kept her blade in place, unsure if she wanted to move it yet. He lifted a brow, waiting.
In a teasing voice, he said, “Are ye sure ye mean tae kill me, lass? But if I was dead, then who would give ye the greatest kiss of yer life?”
Shocked, Lorna dropped her blade, and it clattered to the floor. She jumped at the sound and looked down at it, surprised that she would do something so foolish. Soon after, she felt Bryce’s hand on her waist, and he was drawing her close.
Close to her mouth, he muttered, “I am only teasing, Lorna, but I do mean tae kiss ye well, if that is what ye want, too.”
She was tired, sweating, and panting, but she wanted nothing more. “Aye,” she said, drawing her hands up around his neck as he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers. At the touch of his soft lips, she moaned. Louder than she expected to. But it had seemed so long since she had kissed him last, and she meant to make the most of it.
She pressed herself against him, and her nipples hardened at the feel of his muscled chest. His blade was now on the ground, too, as he wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her even tighter. A groan escaped his mouth, which was muffled by her kiss as she opened her mouth to his.
“Lorna,” he said breathlessly as he pulled from her mouth and kissed her cheek and down her neck.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt the muscles in his back as he moved a little lower, toward her chest. “I want ye more than anything, Lorna,” he said, coming back to her mouth for another kiss. Boldly, Lorna moved her fingers into his hair, her hands first gliding along the roughness of his beard. The sensation tingled through her fingers and made the place between her thighs throb even more.
Bryce MacDowell wanted her, and it only enflamed her desire for him. How could she have ever been in love with Watt when he had never made her feel this way? She felt completely beautiful, desired, and so like a woman. A grown, admired woman. His hands began to explore. One slid down her back to grasp her backside, squeezing it, making her gasp with pleasure.
His other hand lifted to brush against her breast, and she leaned forward into it, the sensation even greater than she thought. “Aye,” she said against his lips, and she felt his smile. He paused, leaning his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard, and their mouths were so close together, it was as if they were sharing one breath.
“Have I done something wrong? I ken I am nae experienced,” she said timidly, and he silenced her with a kiss.
“It is nae that,” he said with a low chuckle. The sound made something deep in her chest hum. “Ye have done everything right. Ye are perfect.” He grasped handfuls of her backside again and pushed her hips forward. She gasped at the feeling of his hardness and length.
“This is what ye have done tae me, lass.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “I have never wanted anything more, but I refuse tae take ye here, on the cold stone of the armory floor.” Lorna’s hands were still on his broad shoulders, but she couldn’t keep her hands from moving.
This man was all hard muscle, and it fascinated her. She couldn’t stop exploring. She wondered what his skin would feel like too. “Take me,” she repeated, the sound of the two words only adding to her anticipation. The throbbing ache began anew, and she thought she would cry out with the frustration of it.
