The Wrong Highlander, page 15
Evina hesitated. She was feeling a little tired now that she’d eaten, but wasn’t eager to return to her bed, so in the end said, “Here is fine,” as he returned to the table.
Conran merely nodded and settled in his seat, but then glanced around and suggested, “Or we could sit on the fur in front of the fireplace. We could even have a small fire if ye like. There is a chill in the air tonight. I think a storm is coming down from the north.”
“That might be nice,” Evina said, glancing toward the fireplace. She’d noticed it was a touch chilly, but had assumed it was just her, something to do with her still recovering from her injury.
Conran was up at once and moving to start a small fire, and it was indeed small, a couple of logs and a few leaves to start it. While he was busy with that, Evina stood and moved the few feet to the fur, relieved when she managed to get there without becoming more than a little breathy.
“Here.”
She glanced to him with surprise when he was suddenly beside her, offering his hand to aid her in lowering herself to the fur.
“Thank ye,” Evina breathed as she arranged the plaid she’d wrapped around her shoulders cape-style so that it covered her properly.
“What would ye like to play tonight?” Conran asked, still standing.
“Whatever ye wish,” she decided, not really caring one way or another.
“We did no’ finish our chess game. Shall we try it again?” he asked.
Evina felt her cheeks heat up and closed her eyes briefly as she recalled why exactly they hadn’t finished the game, and what he’d done to her. She’d been nervous about meeting him again after his leaving earlier, concerned that she would be embarrassed by what they’d done and her responses when he returned. But with Saidh there, she hadn’t even thought about it, until now.
“If ye like,” she said in a strangled voice.
“Evi?”
She could hear the concern in his voice, but didn’t lift her head or open her eyes. “Aye?”
“Lass.”
Evina gave a start when she felt his hand brush her cheek and jerked her head up, her eyes blinking wide.
“Are ye upset?” Conran asked with concern.
“Nay.”
“Ye’re embarrassed,” he realized, and then shook his head. “Ye’ve no reason to be embarrassed with me.”
“I’m no’,” she lied.
“Nay?” Conran asked, a smile curving his beautiful mouth, and then he ran a finger lightly over her lips and asked, “Did ye enjoy our kissing this afternoon?”
Now her face was on fire, but Evina raised her chin and said honestly, “Aye.”
“I did too,” he admitted. “Would ye like me to do it again?”
She stilled at the offer, shocked to feel her body respond to just the suggestion. Her breasts tightened, the nipples hardening, and she felt a liquid heat pool low in her belly as if he was already kissing her. Swallowing, she raised her chin a little higher and nodded. “Aye.”
“I’d like that too,” Conran said, his voice becoming raspy. “May I touch ye too this time?”
Evina blinked. Touching? She’d enjoyed his touch and caresses in both her father’s room and the field. It was just the breaching she hadn’t liked, so she nodded again, her body beginning to tingle at the thought of what he might do to her.
“Thank ye.” Conran leaned forward as he murmured the words, his breath brushing her lips, and Evina was just letting her eyes droop closed in anticipation of his kissing her when she felt his hand at her breast. Giving a start, she pushed her eyes open again even as his lips covered hers.
Sighing, Evina leaned into him, her mouth opening before he even requested entrance. Conran accepted the invitation, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as he palmed, squeezed and then caressed her breast.
Evina wasn’t really aware of either of them moving or his urging her back to lie on the furs; she was just suddenly there, her arms wrapped around his neck as he leaned over her, kissing and caressing her. This time it was his fingers that traveled her body rather than his mouth, and in some ways, Evi enjoyed this more, because it meant he never stopped kissing her. She didn’t protest when she felt him tugging her tunic open to free her breast to his touch, Instead, Evina sighed into his mouth and arched her back, lifting her breast upward in an invitation he accepted at once. She moaned as his rough hand covered her breast and he began to toy with the erect nipple.
Her eyes opened when Conran broke their kiss to lean up though, and Evina watched through droopy eyes as he peered down at her. His face was a mixture of shadow and the dancing light from the fire, and she caught her breath at how beautiful he was even as Conran murmured, “Beautiful,” in a raspy voice.
The word made her glance down at herself to see that his body was casting her in shadow from the dim light creeping through her open shutters, while the fire was painting her with the same dancing light on his face.
He shifted slightly then, moving lower to claim her eager nipple with his lips, and she let her head fall back to the floor and moaned as he laved and suckled at it. When his hand moved down to her leg, she stiffened, but he immediately released her nipple to murmur reassuringly, “Just touching.”
Evina bit her lip, but then forced herself to relax, and he rewarded her with another kiss, this one demanding all of her attention as he thrust his tongue between her lips and reignited her briefly dampened passions. When his hand began to move up her outer leg, she simply enjoyed it, secure in the promise that it would be just touching.
She had enjoyed his touching her in the field, but that had been nothing next to his touching now. His hand moved up her outer leg, around to her behind and squeezed briefly, before continuing up her back and then around to slide across her stomach, pushing her tunic before it as he’d done while “kissing” her earlier. Evina sighed and moaned by turn as his hand moved over her, and then cried out into his mouth when it slid back down, not stopping until it was between her legs.
Conran caught the sound and deepened his kisses as he began to caress her there, his fingers dancing across her damp flesh with a deft skill that soon had her raising her knees and shifting her hips into the touch. When his finger slid into her, she stiffened, and waited for the pain, but there was none. Still, she remained frozen for a moment, just experiencing his touch as his finger remained in her and he continued to caress the center of her excitement with his thumb, and then she couldn’t bear it anymore and began to shift her hips again, pushing back as he stoked her fire.
When her pleasure overtook her, Evina cried out into Conran’s mouth, but as before he didn’t stop. He continued to caress her, driving her back to the pinnacle again until she was crying out once more, her body shuddering with another release, and then another, and yet another, until she was sobbing her pleasure and clinging to him as if he were the only safe haven in a storm-tossed sea.
Chapter 10
“A bath?” Tildy asked with surprise. “Ye do no’ need a bath.”
“I bathe once a week every week, Tildy, and wish to have one now. Just order a bath for me, please.”
“But ye’ve done naught but lay abed since ye were injured. Ye’re no’ dirty.”
Evina scowled at her. “Me hair feels dirty and limp and I should like to clean it.”
“Aye, well, ’tis a bit limp and sad-looking,” Tildy admitted, and then heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll order ye a bath . . . but only if Rory Buchanan says ’tis all right.”
Evina glowered at the servant’s back as she bustled out of the room. She was used to having her orders obeyed at once, not questioned and considered subordinate to someone else’s opinions. Besides, Rory Buchanan had not even seen her wound. Evina had refused Conran’s repeated efforts to get her to let his brother check the injury, instead having Tildy tend to cleaning it and changing the bandages. Now she suspected she’d have to allow him to see it to get Tildy to agree to her taking a bath. Unless he decided she shouldn’t either. In which case, Evina suspected she could shout the order until she was blue in the face and would not get her bath. And she desperately wanted one.
Tildy was wrong. She hadn’t merely been lying about. She’d been writhing and moaning and sweating up a storm here in her room as Conran showed her some of the pleasure that could be had in a marriage bed. Last night especially, between the fire and the way he heated her blood, Evina had been soaking wet when Conran had finally gathered her in his arms, laid her in her bed and covered her up before slipping from the room.
He’d done it without saying a word, and she’d been too wrung out from what he’d done to her for her to protest or say anything to him. Now she was feeling a bit unsure of herself. His leave-taking had been rather abrupt to her mind. In fact, it had seemed as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her quickly enough, and she was worrying over the reason why. Had she displeased him? Responded too eagerly to him? Should she have refused to let him kiss and touch her? Was he disgusted by her eager behavior?
The kissing and touching business had been his idea, but perhaps it had been a test to see if she would allow it again and she had failed the test. Evina didn’t want to wait until later in the morning when he usually came to see her. She wanted to see him earlier than that. She planned to try to go below to break her fast, and she wanted to be clean, and as pretty as she could be, when she did. Purely for her pride’s sake, Evina assured herself. What other reason could there be?
“Where do ye think ye’re going?”
Conran stopped walking abruptly, and blinked at his little brother when Rory suddenly stopped following Tildy and whirled to ask him that question. Frowning, he glanced ahead to where Tildy had reached the door to Evina’s bedchamber and was entering. “With you,” he answered.
“Nay.”
“Nay?” he echoed, jerking his gaze back to his brother with surprise.
“Nay,” Rory repeated firmly, glancing over his shoulder briefly at the sound of another door opening farther up the hall. When it proved to just be Aulay leaving his room, Rory turned back to add, “Ye’ll wait below.”
“The hell I will,” Conran said at once. “She is me betrothed.”
“Aye, which is why ye’ve no business being in there,” Rory said firmly. “Evina has repeatedly refused to allow me to check her wound. She’s obviously no’ comfortable with the idea, and yer presence will no’ help. Go wait below.”
Conran opened his mouth to refuse, and then grunted in surprise when Aulay caught his arm as he drew even with them, and turned him around.
“Come along, brother,” Aulay said, tugging him down the hall. “Let Rory do what he does best.”
“But she—” he began.
“Will be fine,” Aulay interrupted. “Rory is good at this. Let him tend her.”
Conran scowled, but didn’t bother arguing further. Aulay had a good hold on him and wasn’t letting go. He would wait below whether he liked it or not. Sometimes it was damned annoying having brothers, he thought with disgust.
“Well, someone does no’ look happy this morn,” Saidh said with amusement as Aulay led a still-scowling Conran to the table moments later.
“He wanted to accompany Rory to check Evina’s wound,” Aulay said calmly as he settled at the trestle tables and drew Conran down beside him.
“Oh, no, that would no’ have gone well at all,” Saidh said at once.
“Why?” Conran asked with surprise.
“Because ye’re her betrothed,” his sister said simply, as if that should explain everything.
It didn’t for him, however, and Conran scowled again. “And that is why I should be there.”
“Nay. That is why ye should no’ be there,” Jetta assured him, drawing his gaze to Aulay’s petite wife. She and his brother, Geordie, had arrived with Saidh and Greer the day before. Geordie and a retinue of soldiers had escorted Jetta to MacDonnell, and then continued on with them from there.
“But why?” Conran asked with exasperation.
“Because the wound is on her chest,” Saidh said with a shrug.
“Which is why I should be there,” he growled with exasperation. Rory shouldn’t be looking at Evina’s breast without him there.
“Conran,” Jetta said gently. “When Rory looks at a wound, all he sees is a wound, no matter where on the body it is. Howbeit, ye will look on it as Evina’s wounded body. If ye see what I mean?”
“Nay,” he said at once, “I do no’ see what ye mean.”
“She means ye’ll see Evina’s wounded breast while Rory will see a wound that just happens to be on Evina’s chest,” Saidh said shortly.
When he continued to peer at them uncomprehending, Jetta frowned and added, “Ye look at her like a man. Rory looks at her like a healer, and having the two of ye there would make her uncomfortable.”
“But why?” he repeated, really not getting what they were trying to tell him.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Con,” Saidh snapped. “Having ye leering at her breast while Rory is trying to check her wound would make her uncomfortable.”
“I would no’ leer,” he protested indignantly.
The expressions on the faces of his family members suggested no one believed that. Deciding it was a waste of time to try to argue the point, Conran scowled and simply grabbed a pastry and bit into it, trying not to imagine Rory even now unwrapping the bandages from Evina’s chest and revealing her breasts, or at least her injured breast. Her other one was not covered by the bandages and would be bare from the moment Evina lowered her tunic, which she’d have to do for Rory to remove the bandages. He was up there right now, looking at her breasts, touching the injured one, checking for—
“Ye did a fine job, brother. I’m impressed.”
Conran glanced up sharply at those words, and blinked at the sight of Rory claiming the empty space between him and Geordie on the bench. There was no hiding his surprise as he asked, “Ye’re done already?”
“Aye, well, Tildy got there ahead o’ me and helped Evina remove the wrappings and arrange a plaid around her so that I would only see the injury itself. I took a look, and ’tis healing nicely. No sign o’ infection, and yer stitching was better than me own. As fine as Mother’s when she was sewing. I think the scarring will be minimal. I told her she could have a bath, just to try no’ to get the injury itself wet, and then I gave Tildy a salve to put on it ere she replaces her bandages after her bath.” He shrugged. “It only took a couple minutes.”
“Oh.” Conran glanced toward the stairs.
“Tildy came below with me to fetch the servants with the bath,” Rory said solemnly. “She’ll no’ want to see ye while she’s bathing.”
“Right,” Conran murmured, but couldn’t help thinking he could offer to wash her back and squeeze in another lesson on the benefits of the marriage bed if he went up. He’d barely had the thought when Tildy hurried through the great hall, headed for the stairs. A passel of servants followed her, carting a big tub and pails of water, some of them steaming.
“Tildy must have ordered the water to be heated before she came to ask me to check Evina’s wound,” Rory said as they watched the parade of people head up the stairs.
“Aye. She’d been looking for ye for quite a while ere ye came below,” Conran told him, and then arched his eyebrows. “Ye slept rather late this morn.”
“Aye, well, there was a pretty blond lass who wanted me to take a look at something for her last night and I was quite late getting to bed,” Rory said with a shrug.
“Was her name Betsy?” Conran asked.
Rory stiffened in surprise. “How did ye ken?”
“Just a lucky guess,” Conran said with amusement, his gaze slipping past him to the stairs to watch for the servants’ return. It didn’t take long before the parade of servants were making their way back down the stairs. Which meant her bath was ready, and Evina was no doubt even now stripping and stepping into a steaming tub of water. It made him wonder if she was the sort to take long baths, or fast ones, and how long it would be before he could go above stairs.
“Remember, ye’re no’ supposed to get yer wound wet.”
“I’ll be careful,” Evina assured Tildy as she stepped over the edge of the tub and eased down to sit in it. A small sigh slid from her lips as the warm water closed over her and she briefly shut her eyes as her body relaxed. She’d been tense ever since Tildy had arrived to inform her that Rory Buchanan was on his way to check her wound. But it hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d expected. Tildy had helped. Before Rory arrived, she’d quickly removed the linen covering her injured breast, and then wrapped a plaid around Evina’s shoulders that she’d held together so that just the injured side of her back and the top of her wounded breast remained visible. Rory had come in, talked softly, asking if this or that hurt as he’d inspected and prodded her injury, and then had nodded, proclaimed her well enough to bathe, gave them a couple instructions and a salve and then left the room. It had been that easy, and hadn’t taken more than a couple minutes. It made Evina feel a little foolish about refusing to let the man look at it until now.
“Here. Hold this over yer wounded breast and I’ll wash yer hair first.”
Evina blinked open eyes she’d just closed and stared at the small strip of linen the woman was holding out.
“’Tis in case some water drips down yer face to yer chest,” the maid explained. “The healer suggested it.”
Nodding, she accepted the small bit of cloth and placed it over her breast, holding it there with one hand.
“Try to lean yer head back so I can dampen yer hair.”
Evina grasped the edge of the tub with her free hand and eased forward in the water until her bent knees were squished against one end of the tub. Once she’d given herself as much room as she could, she then leaned back, holding tightly with her one hand to keep from falling onto her back in the water and submerging her upper body and the wound along with it.
