“I’m going to come,” he said tightly, and thrust one more time, penetrating to her very core. Their eyes met, and what she saw there made her heart squeeze. The tender emotion was a sharp contrast to his usual cold implacability; she knew he’d revealed a part of himself that she’d never seen before—that maybe no one had ever seen before.
He cried out as his body tensed and the hot rush of his seed exploded inside her.
And she rose up to meet him, arching her back and crying out as her own release swept over her. It was the same as before, only much more intense. The slow breaking apart, the sharp pinnacle of sensation, the brief moment where her heart stopped and her soul seemed to touch the heavens. But this time, she was not alone.
I’m not alone.
She wanted it to last forever and clung to the sensations as long as she could, riding each wave until the last tingle of sensation had ebbed.
Breathing hard, she slumped forward onto his chest, their skin pleasantly slick with the sheen of perspiration.
Her cheek was pressed to his chest. Listening to the frantic beat of his heart begin to slow, she closed her eyes.
Jamie heard the soft, even sounds of her breathing and knew she slept. He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t have words to describe what he was feeling and was glad for the time to collect himself.
What the hell had just happened?
It was like nothing he’d ever experienced. He’d known their attraction was strong, but it did not explain the connection he’d felt when deep inside her. A connection that had far more to do with sating his soul than with sating his lust. Never had a woman so completely penetrated his iron-forged control. She’d revealed a part of him that he hadn’t known existed.
He stroked her hair, contemplating the strange tightness in his chest. The overwhelming feeling of tenderness for the tiny woman in his arms. His wife. He’d thought that would be enough, but it wasn’t. He wanted more, much more. He wanted her love, trust, and respect. For without the latter two, the first was impossible.
But what if she could never give it to him?
He was inextricably tied to his cousin—a man she could not abide—and his own brother had destroyed her clan.
How long would it be before she asked him to choose between her and his family—his duty?
He dreaded the day, though he knew it would come. For there were some things he could not—would not—do. He nestled her more firmly under his arm. Even for her.
Chapter 13
A knock at the door stirred Caitrina awake. It took her a few moments to realize where she was and that she was alone. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved—probably a little of both. In the stark light of day, the memories of what they’d shared last night took on new meaning, and she was more than a little embarrassed by her passionate response to their lovemaking.
If she needed a reminder, all she had to do was look down at the sheeting twisted around her naked limbs to recall exactly how bold she’d been. Her cheeks heated. Quickly, she bent over to pluck her nightraile from the floor, then dropped it over her head, fastened the ties at the neck, and bade the person at the door enter.
It was Mor. She bustled into the room, a stack of drying cloths piled to her nose. “The laird bid me wake you so you had time to bathe before breaking your fast.” She placed the linen atop Caitrina’s chest and began to stoke the fire. “He wishes to leave within the hour.”
Caitrina stretched lazily, reluctant to leave the cozy warmth of the bed. “What time is it?”
Her old nurse walked to the windows and tore open the shutters. Blinding rays of sunshine poured across the polished wood-planked floor. “Nearly midmorning.”
“Already!” Caitrina exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. “We were supposed to leave for Ascog at daybreak. Why did someone not wake me?”
“The laird instructed me to let you sleep.” Mor didn’t seem to be any more happy to take his orders in the morning than she had in the eve. She gave Caitrina a pointed look. “He said you needed your rest.”
Caitrina turned so Mor would not see the telltale blush creeping up her cheeks.
“You are all right?” Mor asked hesitantly. “He was not too rough—”
“I’m fine,” Caitrina said hurriedly. Better than fine. She’d never felt so . . . fine. She could still see the frown on Mor’s face, so she reached out to clasp her hands and look into her worried eyes. “Truly, Mor, I’m well. He was . . . gentle.” Surprisingly so. Completely at odds with the fierce, implacable warrior she thought him to be. Last night, she’d seen a side of him she hadn’t expected, and she didn’t know what to do with her newfound knowledge.
She still couldn’t believe what had happened. He’d surprised her on so many levels. First by his sensitivity to her lingering fears from the soldier’s attack and then by his ceding to her complete control in their lovemaking. Never could she have imagined that he would give her such a gift when his sheer physical strength, his natural authority and command, and the sexual virility that exuded from him all spoke of dominant male. And her confidence that he would stop at any point had calmed her fears like nothing else—he’d known what she needed even before she did. Had she once thought him cold and ruthless? Perhaps to his enemies, but to her he’d been understanding, tender . . . almost loving.
Satisfied by Caitrina’s response, her old nurse nodded, and she was saved from further conversation by the arrival of the wooden tub.
While she was relaxing in the warm water, her thoughts drifted more than once or twice to her husband. Instinctively, she realized that something had changed between them, but what? Would it be uncomfortable to see him? Would he pretend nothing had happened?Hadanything happened? She half expected him to open the door at any minute, but it wasn’t until after she’d broken her fast that she saw him.
He entered the great hall with her uncle, and her heart jumped. She tensed, waiting for his reaction. His eyes found hers and, perhaps sensing her uncertainty, he smiled.
