Page 51 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

His gaze moved down her body and settled on her lower belly. Then his weight shifted away, and his hand left her hip. He sat back on the edge of the bed, his jaw tight. Without his warmth near, she felt more of the cool air.

He had seen all of her and still changed his mind.

“What is wrong?”

Oscar turned his face away and curled one hand against his thigh. “I cannae risk puttin’ a bairn inside ye.”

Ceana pushed herself upright and reached for his arm. “There is nay bairn to risk.”

His head snapped toward her. “Ye cannae promise me that.”

“I can. There is somethin’ I should tell ye.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes, and she tightened her grip on him.

“I cannae bear children.”

Oscar’s hand stopped above the breeches he had discarded beside the bed. For one breath, he remained as still as anything, every muscle tense. Then he straightened and turned.

Ceana could read nothing on his face. His gaze held hers until she reached for the blanket and drew it over her breasts. The cover offered little comfort. He had already seen and touched every part of her.

“Who told ye that?”

“Nay one had to tell me.”

His brow furrowed. “Then how do ye ken?”

Ceana’s hands tightened on the blanket. “Daphne was born first. I came after her, so I am counted the second daughter.” She watched his face and found no help there. “Every second daughter born to second daughters in me maither’s line has failed to bear children. Everyone kens it. I heard it spoken as fact before I was old enough to understand why it mattered.”

Oscar drew nearer. “And ye have proof other than the tale?”

Her throat tightened. “Me courses arenae regular. Sometimes they are late by weeks. Sometimes longer. It began the same way for the others, or so me maither said.”

She had put together the pieces years ago. Speaking them before a naked man who had just drawn away from her made the conclusion plain again for some odd reason.

“That is why nay man wanted me.”

Oscar stared at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he spoke again. “Ridiculous. Any man with eyes would want ye.”

“Every man with eyes kens the second daughter of a second daughter in me maither’s line cannae bear children.”

He crossed the remaining distance between them and stopped beside the bed. “I took Ceana Tulloch as me wife, nae the promise of bairns.” His fingers closed around the carved bedpost. “Ye deserve to be wanted because ye are ye, wife.”

Her eyes stung. She blinked until the candle flames stood clear again.

Oscar looked down at the blanket gathered in her hands. “The moment I saw ye, I wanted to worship ye.”

Ceana let the blanket fall to her waist and rose onto her knees. She caught his hand and pressed it over her breast. “Then show me.”

His thumb moved once across her skin before he pulled his hand away. “Do ye truly believe ye cannae conceive?”

“Aye. I have believed it all me life.”

His breathing slowed as his gaze held hers, dark with desire. “If I come back to that bed, I willnae be able to stop.”

She swallowed. “I daenae want ye to.”

Oscar climbed back onto the bed and kissed her again. His fingers found her still wet and stroked her slowly until her hips bucked.