Page 404 of Wicked Highland Heroes

The question surprised him, and Iain wondered if he had been mistaken in thinking she comprehended his meaning. “I want you,” he said in all honesty.

“What happens when you cease wanting me?”

He halted as though hitting a stone wall and lowered her to the ground. She gazed up at him and, for the first time in his life, he felt the desire to put as much distance between himself and a beautiful woman as possible.

“You are my wife,” he answered. “I will always want you. If I had not, I would not have married you.” He started toward the village. A sense of unease settled deeper in the pit of his stomach when she hurried alongside him.

“’Tis not always so.”

The reply startled him, and all he could manage was “Huh?”

“Husbands often do not want their wives. Oh, at first,” she gestured with her hand, “they often appear content. But after a while they spend less time in their wives’ company, less time in their beds and, before long, the women are forced to content themselves elsewhere.”

Iain spun in her direction. “Elsewhere?” He reached for her, but this time she sidestepped him, hurrying several paces ahead.

“You never told me why you wanted me in the first place,” she said. “It is clear you decided from the beginning to marry me—or so you said.”

A rush of indignation propelled him forward.

“Are you saying I lied?” Victoria shrugged.

“I made good on my promise,” he answered with genuine heat.

“Aye.”

Her tone was far too noncommittal.

She stopped and faced him. “There are any number of women who would have welcomed you as their husband. Why me?” Her gaze bore into him, and he couldn’t escape the feeling he was being stalked in much the same manner that he had stalked her.

“Why not?” he asked for lack of anything better to say.

“Why not, indeed?” she murmured.

Iain was close enough to see the shrewd glint that appeared in her eyes and wasn’t pleased with it. He drew abreast of her and lengthened his stride so that she was forced to run in order to keep up with him.

“I think my question—”

Iain whirled and yanked her against him. “I believe, sweet, we were discussing my wanting you.”

“But—”

He cut her off with a kiss. She still tried to speak, but he slid his tongue into her open mouth. She started to pull back, but he slid a hand down to cup her derriere and pressed her against his erection. Her body melted against his, and he knew all silly questions were forgotten.

He drew back and leaned his forehead against hers. “I think the real question is, how soon can we find a place to be alone?”

Victoria raised her head. “Nay, my lord, the question is, why will you not answer me?”

A woman’s shriek sounded around the bend ahead of them. Victoria’s eyes widened. Iain released her, and they raced around the corner in time to hear a round of shouts go up. A crowd of people stood around a watering hole, and Iain elbowed his way through them. He stopped short at sight of two women rolling in the mud, locked in womanly combat. Iain watched in fascination, intrigued by the grunts and growls made by the combatants before turning to one of the bystanders.

“What started it?”

The man leaned close, never taking his eyes from the spectacle. “Sally caught Rita there,” he pointed to the woman currently on top of her opponent, “with

Phillip.”

“Hyram’s son?” “Aye.” The man nodded.

Iain snorted. “I wonder if Sally knows Rita is not the only lass young Phillip has been known to dally with.”