Highlanders Collection. Ann Lethbridge
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any advice, lad—’
‘I don’t.’ He pointed for the men to return. ‘Go back to your ale and leave me with my bride.’
‘Give her a kiss from us!’ Ross offered, making puckering noises.
Nairna wanted nothing more than to escape their teasing. Though they meant well, she needed no more reminders about what would happen tonight.
‘Alex said we could sleep in one of the storage shelters,’ Bram said, leading her outside. ‘There’s no bed, I’m afraid.’
It was better than sleeping in the keep, amid the dogs, Nairna thought.
‘I brought a mattress,’ she reminded him. ‘We could fetch it from the wagon, along with blankets.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Pointing to one of the wattle-and-daub huts, he told her, ‘We’ll stay here tonight and then find a place of our own in the morning.’
Before he left her, he slid a hand around her waist. ‘Nairna, I promise it will be all right. I won’t hurt you.’ He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before he turned to walk back to the wagon. She held on to her waist, feeling as though his lips had burned a mark into her skin.
She was restless about the forthcoming night. To distract herself, she entered the grain hut. Inside, it smelled musty and damp. Sacks of barley and corn lay stacked in a corner, both food stores and seed for next year.
The structure was rectangular, perhaps eight feet wide. It looked more suited to horses, but Nairna supposed it was better than sleeping out in the open.
Her skin turned cold, the nervous energy rising higher. Lie still, she reminded herself. Submit to him and let him do as he pleases.
She wasn’t afraid of lovemaking, only of disappointing Bram. Whenever Iver had shared her bed, her husband’s thoughts were distant, his movements a cold duty. And when time went on, and she still hadn’t become pregnant, there had seemed little point in the act.
But tonight could be different. She prayed that, somehow, Bram could give her the child she wanted so desperately. Her hands moved down to her stomach, the wistful longing filling her up inside.
When Bram returned, he set down her mattress, dumping a load of blankets atop it. He stopped to look at her, his faded tunic looking pale in the moonlight.
Dark brown eyes stared into hers, leaving no doubt of his needs. And yet there was a tangible distance, almost as if he didn’t want her to know him, or guess at his thoughts.
His muscles strained as he lifted several sacks of grain to block out the wind from the crevices of the shelter. As he moved, Nairna realised that, although he was thinner, there was no mistaking his strength from the hard labour he’d endured.
She studied the reddened, raised scars encircling his throat. They revealed the mark of an iron band that must have rested around his neck. Though the abrasions were starting to heal, the scar would remain.
After he’d finished moving the sacks of grain, Bram removed his tunic, baring his shoulders. Though he was thin, his lean muscles caught her eye. The urge to touch his skin came over her, though she suppressed it.
Nairna turned around, trying to loosen her gown. Bram came up behind her and helped to lift the woollen garment away, leaving her dressed in her shift. Her body grew cold from the chilled air and she hugged herself to keep warm. With one hand, she unravelled the bandage from her wrist, letting the strip of cloth fall to the floor.
With Bram so close, she couldn’t help but see the massive scarring upon his body. It was monstrous to think of what they must have done to him.
‘Does it hurt?’ she asked, reaching to touch the whitened skin.
‘It’s mostly healed.’
That wasn’t a no. She worried about whether or not he was in pain. He might not tell her, even if he was.
Bram’s mouth rested beside her ear, his hot breath taking her thoughts apart. She could almost feel the heat of his bare skin and it both fascinated her and frightened her. She couldn’t stop her intake of breath when his kiss grazed the line of her jaw.
‘I’m going to sleep with you this night, Nairna. The way I should have done, these past seven years.’
Chapter Six
‘Are you afraid?’ he asked. He didn’t want her to be. He wanted to hold her in his arms this night, to forget the years of torture and darkness.
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘Not of … being with you, but—’ Her words broke off and her face flushed. ‘We don’t really know each other. It seems strange.’ Her face turned to the ground, her cheeks red with embarrassment. ‘I’ll try not to let that interfere.’
Her honesty was like ice water upon his desire, reminding him that she’d been with someone else before him. She knew what it was to join with a man and she spoke of it as though it were something to be endured instead of enjoyed.
It darkened his mood even more. ‘Did he hurt you?’
The question came out before he could stop himself. He needed to know what had happened between them.
She shook her head slowly. But there was a sadness behind her eyes, and he sensed that her husband had not brought her pleasure within their marriage bed.
Jealousy snarled inside him. ‘What was it like … with him?’
She sat on the mattress and drew her knees up, holding them to her chest. ‘Bram, I don’t want to talk about those years. I’d rather forget them.’
He exhaled slowly, feeling cruel for even bringing it up. She didn’t appear to have enjoyed her previous marriage bed. Likely she was in no hurry to repeat the experience.
It frustrated him, because he didn’t want her to lie back and endure his affections. He wanted her breathless and willing. He wanted to taste her skin, to tempt her in ways that his imagination had conjured.
His gaze drifted over her body, resting upon the full curves of her breasts, the swell of her hips. ‘You’re as fair as I remember, a ghaoil.’ He sat beside her and she tried to venture a smile.
She gently touched his bared chest. At the warmth of her fingers against the scarred flesh his body responded with aching lust. She rested her cheek against his heart and he touched her hair, lifting her face to his.
He kissed her lips softly, moving down to the sensitive part of her throat. Goose flesh erupted upon her skin, and she let out a breath of air.
‘Are you all right?’ he murmured.
‘Just nervous.’
It seemed that the more he touched her, the more uneasy she became. He tried to kiss her again, pressing her back onto the mattress. At the touch of his hands upon her legs, she shivered, suddenly turning her face away.
He knew he’d done something to bother her, but he didn’t understand what it was. He stroked her long legs, moving higher. Nairna’s face reddened and her shoulders trembled. She was reacting strongly to his touch and her fingers curled tightly as she felt him caress her knees.
When he reached her inner thighs, she jerked away. ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’ She clamped her knees together, clutching them as she shuddered. ‘It tickles.’
It was the last reaction he’d expected; frankly, he didn’t know what to do now. He’d broken the mood and it was clear that she wasn’t at all aroused. Like a fumbling adolescent, he’d done everything wrong.
Frustration and anger boiled inside and he turned away so she wouldn’t see his annoyance with himself.
‘Bram,’ she said, her voice filled with remorse, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way, but my legs are sensitive.’
He