Page 56 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

“But where can we go?” she whispered.

He dusted kisses along her cheek, her crown, then as his lips reconnected with hers, he paused.

“I’ve a thought.”

Scooping her back up, he strode across the bailey, beneath the silent but vigilant eyes of his night watch upon the walls. Snowflakes, kicked up in a breeze, sprinkled upon them, and beneath the bright moonlight, the tops of the hay carts and thatched roofs of the outbuildings looked frosted in iridescent white.

“Naybody will want to venture out in the cold when they can dance and feast,” he said.

“Yet we’re in the cold,” she teased, unable to suppress her shiver.

He winked at her. “Nay for long.”

They came to a small byre along the far wall, and the sheep within rifled around at their arrival through the gate. James set her down, latching the pen behind them.

“A sheep byre? Are we to sit in the muck with them?” Aileana quirked her brow with amusement, but James only grinned. “Why do I feel like a lass sneaking off for my first kiss again?”

He paused. His grin fell, and his eyes widened upon her with genuine surprise. “Ye mean my kiss was nay yer first?”

“Was my kiss yers?” she returned, lifting her eyebrows and giggling.

He cleared his throat, then cleared it again while looking askance, and did it appear that his pride had been stabbed? Or mayhap that in the light he might be red in the cheeks? “Nay. But it has indeed been my favorite and all I can think about,” he muttered. “Does yer brother ken about it?”

Aileana laughed. “All of Urquhart knew, for it happened when I was a mere lass of twelve and before I’d even begun my courses.”

The strained look on his brow seemed to ease. “Before yer courses? Then ye’re…”

She rested her hand upon his arm, teasing softer. “My first kiss with ye was my second. And I would like it very much, man, if ye’d kiss me once more so I might decide which one is my favorite. Even if we must hide in a byre so our parents willnae discover us—oh!”

He scooped her back up, grinning. “Cheeky wench,” he teased, nipping her lips, and carrying her to the back of the byre where a stall sat unused, piled with fresh straw.

The body heat of the sheep did much to insulate them from the chill, but still, James lay her down upon the straw and proceeded to unwind his mantle from his shoulder and waist to drape around them.

“Suppose I banish from yer mind yer first kiss for good,” he teased, stretching out beside her and leaning over her to entrap her beneath his torso. Her skin buzzed at such unchecked intimacy.

She nodded breathily. “Of course ye’ll have to throw yer effort into it, man—”

His lips landed upon hers with a growl, and she couldn’t help but grin as he cupped her face and pushed his body against hers. Whether it was the drink that had relaxed her defenses or the underlying desire for him finally brimming to the top, she opened her lips for him to pillage with sheer desire.

“Aye, I’ll steal what kisses I can,” he murmured.

“Typical reaver,” she admonished.

He grinned arrogantly. “Aye, Devil, I believe ye’ve dubbed me. But my wife has always had an unruly tongue,” he added. “I dare say I should silence it with mine.”

But her grin had already fallen as heat surged through her, as her belly warmed in the way it was coming to do when he showed her affection.

She sucked in air, exhaled raggedly, and he pulled back to look into her eyes in the darkness. She studied him, muted by shadow, barely an outline, but she could tell he was studying her shift in demeanor. She threaded her fingers into his feral hair and pulled him back down to her, and this time, he sank with quiet determination into the kiss. Against her leg, she felt his hardened manhood press against her, easing off gently, pressing again, as his tongue courted hers and his grip upon her softened to an exploratory caress.

The heat upon her skin turned to gooseflesh. The nerves in her belly turned to fire, as his hand slid over her stomach, around her waist, up her side, while his lips plied hers, his skilled seduction serious and wanting. She arched into his roving caress and heard him hiss an inhale.

“Ye like that?” he murmured gruffly by her ear, nipping at her lobe and pecking his way across her cheeks back to her lips.

She nodded, more frantically than she’d intended, though she was losing herself in his touch. He undulated against her more ardently. She gripped him tighter, arching and exhaling and suckling upon his lips as he was with hers, and he groaned long, low.

“Sakes, lass, ever since I met ye, I havenae been able to get ye from my mind,” he said, so gruffly, she knew he was spiraling out of control.

She nodded again, agreeing that she’d felt the same way, for her mouth refused to produce words. He shifted atop her, pinning her beneath him. His kiss deepened, his head tilted, his hand gripped her crown while his other roved more haphazardly down her arm, around her waist, then up her stomach to cup her… Goodness, his hand was upon her breast! Again, she arched into his touch, her body knowing what it wanted, and she had no control over it. Again, he groaned long and low as his fingers began to gently knead her through her bodice ribbed with stays, frustrating him in the most delightful way.