Otherwise her pride would take another beating.
She sighed. What else was new? Every time she got anywhere near Brigham embarrassment followed. Well that, and a healthy dose of desire. Not a bad thing, all things considered, but…honestly. She could’ve done without the flare-up right this second. Wishful thinking in a big way. ’Twas difficult, after all, to quash lascivious thoughts while nestled up against Brigham. He was too alluring by half, his masculine appeal making coherent thought almost impossible. At least this time, though, her brain was working well enough to know she needed a plan. A good one—and quickly—if she wanted to preserve the last remaining shred of her pride.
Sniffling one last time, Aurora raised her head, determined to get the scene over with and herself out of the chamber with haste. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she averted her gaze, refusing to look at him. Disaster lay in that direction. The moment she made eye contact, the questions would start, and honestly, she didn’t know what to say. Perhaps, Sorry…didn’t mean to cry all over you. Or mayhap…excuse me while I go stick my head in a hole. Either would do, but something told her Brigham wouldn’t accept either evasion.
Too bad, really. She could’ve used the peace and quiet.
Chewing on the inside of her lip, Aurora uncurled her fingers from his tunic. Both hands flat on the wall of his chest, she drew a shallow breath and tried to back away. His grip on her firmed. His chin brushed against her hair as he shook his head.
“Little heart,” he murmured, his tone so full of understanding her heart clenched.
Unable to find her voice, she squeezed her eyes closed.
With another murmur, Brigham raised his hand. His calloused palm cupped her cheek, gentling her while he arrested her flight. She settled, allowing his touch, welcoming his warmth, unable to fight him. God, she was a bloody, damned fool. She should be running. Should be halfway to the stables by now instead of here, letting him wipe the remaining tears from her cheeks. His free hand palmed the small of her back. Stroking along her spine, he kissed her closed eyelids. Trailing his lips over her eyelashes and down the bridge of her nose, he paused at the corner of her mouth.
Aurora came undone. Her body sprang to life, responding so fast she would’ve been shocked had it not felt so good. Air left her in a rush as he dipped his head again, making her heart hitch and her knees go weak. Done resisting, she turned her mouth to his, seeking the pleasure of his kiss.
The instant she responded, Brigham pulled back.
“Little heart,” he said, nibbling her bottom lip.
“Hmm.”
“Aurora?”
Instead of snapping to attention, Aurora pressed close until her hips met his and her breasts touched his chest. She purred. Oh, heavens. The friction—his heat and strength—was enthralling. Wonderfully good, just what she needed to help her forget. Needing more, she slid her hands into his hair. Standing on her tiptoes, she licked over his bottom lip. He groaned. She grew bolder and nipped him with the sharp edge of her teeth.
“Christ.” With another curse, Brigham backed away. She held firm, keeping him hard against her. He twitched in reaction. “Aurora!”
The bark in his tone jolted her, forcing her to swim from the depths of delight. Wits resurfacing, she looked at Brigham. He stared back, the warm glint in his brown eyes in no way helping to clear the fog addling her brain.
Off balance, Aurora responded more out of habit than coherent thought. “My lord?”
“Are you all right?”
“All right, my lord?”
Dark brows furrowed, Brigham shook her a little. “Aye, little heart. Are you all right…as in unhurt?”
A fair question. Particularly since she’d just cried all over him. Add that to the fact her uncle was even now being thrown—no doubt head first—out the doors of Alvars keep and…aye. Of course, he wanted to make sure she was unharmed. ’Twas only reasonable. Logical, even…
More’s the pity.
Kissing him again sounded much more fun.
The admission caused heat to explode across her cheeks. Good lord. Whatever was the matter with her? She’d nearly been declared mad by her uncle, for heaven’s sake, and judging by her reaction to Brigham, Aurora wondered if the accusation wasn’t too far off the mark.
“I am fine, my lord.”
“Aurora, look at me.”
“Nay.”
“Nay?” Brigham growled and tightened his hold, jostling her against him. “Aurora, do as you are told. Don’t argue with me.”
She sighed in resignation. ’Twas no use fighting him. He always got his way, usually by distracting her with his touch. Completely unfair, she knew, but in the end, self-preservation took over. The sooner she answered, the faster he would let her go. God’s truth, he would no doubt keep her plastered against him for the rest of the day if she refused to comply. And, well, she would never survive that with her sanity intact.
“Tell me true, loving.” Sliding his hands to her waist, he widened the distance between their bodies. A gentle squeeze. Another arresting caress, and he tipped her chin up. Dark brown eyes met hers. “Are you unhurt?”
“Not a scratch, my lord.”
He scanned her face. “Did he touch you, Aurora?”
“Aye…” She trailed off, replaying the exchange in the stable. “Well, nay, not exactly, but he attempted to and then I…”
Brigham cursed. “I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance.”
Dropping his hands, he turned toward the door. Under the assumption he was deserting her to locate her uncle and make good on his death threat, Aurora grasped his arm. “He didn’t succeed.”
Her words stalled his forward progress. Temper barely leashed, he swung back to pin her with an intense look. A muscle jumped along his jaw. “What happened…exactly, Aurora?”
Head tilted, she stared at him while she thought about her answer. “Well, I was faster.”
Brigham’s angry expression turned to one of bafflement. “Faster?”
Aurora’s mouth curved. “Aye, my lord…faster.”
Brigham scowled at her. “I see…faster.”
“Please understand. I know it seems foolish, but I have never managed…avoided…well, you see, I have never, ever been faster,” she said, tripping over her words in an effort to get them all out. “Never. Not once. And this time, well, I was!”
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “You beat him at his own game, is that it?”
“Aye. Finally! I was the stronger, the wiser and for the first time in a long while, I knew I would be all right…that I would survive.”
“And that you are protected?”
“That too,” she said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “It feels good to know I am safe, my lord.”
Brigham shook his head and hugged her close. He held her a moment longer, then lifted and rocked her before setting her back on her feet. Lacing his fingers through hers, he tugged her over to Eamon’s desk. A quick pivot and he sat on its edge. A faster tug and he pulled her between the spread of his thighs.
“Tell me everything,” he said, his voice low and stern. “I want details.”
Seeing no means of escape, Aurora recounted the encounter with her uncle. She paused now and then, struggling to answer his questions, doing her best to recall everything, leaving nothing out, not even when the topic embarrassed her—namely, her uncle’s opinion and what he’d accused her of before Brigham’s arrival in the solar. Why he needed to know every blasted detail, she didn’t know. But when he started a serious inquiry in that direction, she changed the subject. Two could play that game. He wasn’t the only one with questions. She wanted a few answers of her own.
“But how did he get in, my lord?” she asked. “Alvars is so well guarded, he would not have been able to get past the gatehouse undetected.”
“’Twould not have been difficult, little heart. There are many coming and going because of the wedding. The guards would have done no more than relieve him of we
apons before allowing him entry. ’Twould have been unusual for them to have questioned your uncle beyond that,” Brigham said, picking up one of her hands from where it lay on his shoulder to play with her fingers.
He was trying to distract her. This time, though, Aurora refused to let him. She wanted answers, and she would get them…even if it killed her. A distinct possibility. He wasn’t playing fair, but as he raised her hand and nipped at the tip of her index finger, Aurora vowed to win. Come hell or high water…just this once.
Snatching her hand back, Aurora frowned at him. “What of the men in the stables?”
“What men?” A brow arched, he reached around to grasp the thick braid hanging down the middle of her back. Tugging it over her shoulder, he played with the ends before loosening the tie and sliding her hair free of its plait.
“The ones that belong to you, my lord,” Aurora said, waving her hand in front of his face. “The two guards.”
“Ah, those two.”
“Aye, those two. They belong to you, don’t they?”
“Aye.”
“Then why were they there?” Aurora’s eyes widened, then narrowed on him as the truth became apparent. “They were following me, weren’t they? You ordered them to follow me.”
Brigham shrugged, his focus on her unbound hair. “If you like, but…”
“You were spying on me. You had your guards spy on me?” Aurora choked on hurt, although she didn’t know why. If anything, she should be grateful. The guards had intervened when she needed them. Add that to her accidents and, well…aye. She ought to be thanking him. And would have…if his motives had been pure. But instinct warned that good intentions had naught to do with it. His actions smacked of mistrust and, like it or not, she felt the blow.
Her tresses looped around his fist, Brigham rubbed a lock between his fingertips before meeting her gaze. “They were put in place to protect you, not spy, Aurora.”
Protect her, indeed. She wanted to hit him. Heaven above, just the thought of them skulking around behind her, hidden in the shadows, was enough to send her temper into dangerous territory. “Oh aye, they were…slithering behind me like snakes. Did you think I would run? Where the blazes did you think I would go?”
“God only knows.”
Aurora snorted, annoyed beyond measure—even though she had no right to the sentiment. ’Twas the truth, her plan included a swift getaway. Aye, she’d intended to run. Still might too. But not before she hammered him for his distrust. “You may think it amusing, my lord, but I do not. I do not like being spied upon. If you do not trust me, say so. Furthermore…”
“Do not take that tone with me, Aurora.” Brigham’s nostrils flared as he wrapped a fist in the liberated length of her hair. With gentle pressure, he tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are to be my wife. No chances will be taken with your safety. If I think you require a hundred guards, you will have them.”
Aurora opened her mouth to respond. Brigham cut her off. Dipping his head, he held her immobile and invaded her mouth. The kiss seared her. His tongue thrust deep, silencing her objection. The brute. But oh, glory, he was delicious. Heaven wrapped up in a kiss. In an instant, she forgot all the names she wanted to call him, along with his high-handed tactics. Burying her hands in his hair, she encouraged his possession while he robbed her of all rational thought.
Hot and greedy, he licked at her senses, sucking her into a vortex of pleasure. Unable to breathe, she took her air from him, need driving her forward, uncaring of where it took her. Pressing close, she wrapped herself around him, taking all he gave, giving in return. She slid her hands up the wall of his chest, across his shoulders, and down his arms, fascinated when muscle flexed beneath her palms. Heat unfurled, causing muscles deep inside her to tighten. A pulsing wave of delight rippled through her body, thundering to the beat of her heart, demanding release as one of Brigham’s hands cupped her bottom and pressed her against the hard ridge of his erection.
She wanted to be under him. She wanted to be over him. Nothing else mattered. Naught but him. Aurora yearned for satisfaction, for the bliss he could give her. Please, her body screamed. Now, her mind added, impatient with need and— “Do you see? I told you we couldn’t leave them alone,” someone said, tone full of annoyance. “You’re gone for a moment and just look what happens.”
Brigham’s head came up so fast she nearly fell over.
Off kilter, Aurora blinked in surprise. Clinging to Brigham to keep from toppling sideways, she glanced over her shoulder and…oh, bother. What terrible timing. Trust Quinlyn to ruin everything. And standing in the doorway with both hands planted on her hips, it appeared her best friend planned to do precisely that.
Of all the rotten luck.
Still panting from Brigham’s kisses, she scowled at Quinlyn. Her friend had the gall to frown back as if she hadn’t interrupted her blissful exchange with Brigham. And beyond her best friend stood Eamon, looking far too amused by the entire affair.
Quick as a cat, Quinlyn marched into the chamber. Not giving either of them a chance to react, she grabbed Aurora’s arm and jerked her away from Brigham. He growled. Aurora yelped, fighting the tug and tow. Not that it helped. Not deterred in the slightest, Quinlyn yanked harder and glared at Brigham over her shoulder.
“You are to be married on the morrow, my lord.” Pushing Aurora over the threshold, she gave Brigham a withering look. “You can damn well wait until then to kiss her senseless.”
“Bloody everlasting hell,” Brigham growled, frustration in his tone.
Aurora echoed the sentiment. Tough luck, she knew. A stickler for the rules, her best friend would never relent. Quinlyn intended to see her married…and properly at that. Which meant no hanky-panky before the vows were exchanged. Beyond irritating. Particularly since she wasn’t sure she wanted to be present for the ceremony. But that depended on a number of things—strength, fortitude, a potential escape plan among them. Only one thing stood in the way: her inability to resist a too-handsome brute with naught but pleasure on his mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Chaos, Thy Name Is Quinlyn
Trading the warmth of Brigham’s arms for complete chaos wasn’t any fun. Nor the least bit productive. Throw “annoying as Hades” into the mix, and Aurora knew she’d landed exactly where she didn’t want to be—at the center of a veritable whirlwind. The kind that started with wedding plans and ended, well…somewhere south of nowhere good.
’Twasn’t about to get any better either.
All of which was Quinlyn’s fault. Every single moment of it.
Battling the urge to throttle her best friend, Aurora surveyed the activity inside Quinlyn’s solar. She huffed. Activity, her foot. Craziness capped with hustle and bustle described it better. ’Twas more than any sane person should’ve been expected to endure. The veritable army of servants needed to see everything accomplished in such a short time boggled her mind. Arms piled high with bolts of fabric and baskets full of dried flowers, the troupe scurried about like ants around a sugar pot, frantic in the frenzy. Maids and squires. Carpenters and seamstresses. Cook and her nemesis the butcher. The list went on and on as each one waited to receive instructions and be on their way.
Aurora sighed as another list was shoved beneath her nose for approval. She rubbed her temples and nodded in agreement, trying to think happy thoughts while she calculated the likelihood of escape. Seeing no immediate avenue, she found a chair hidden beneath a mountain of gowns. After depositing the offending articles elsewhere, she sat, content to stay as far from the madness as possible, and glanced toward the far side of the room.
Her lips twitched. She couldn’t help it. Situated in the eye of the storm, Quinlyn was in her glory. Checking and rechecking lists, her friend issued instructions to those gathered around her while calling orders to others dashing about the chamber. Aurora shook her head. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but was all the same. Quinlyn in action was a sight to behold. More efficient than a
battle commander, her friend never panicked or wavered. She fixed things instead. Was always happiest when she arranged, strategized, or just plain organized.
Big. Small. It didn’t matter. A plan—no matter how insignificant—was important in Quinlyn’s eyes. Hers too. But whereas her best friend excelled inside, Aurora’s interest lay outside, in the paddocks and stalls inside the stables, amid the jangle of harnesses and the horses that wore them.
The thought made her yearn for the great outdoors. For the smell of field grass and fresh earth. For a crisp breeze on a fine afternoon. But that wouldn’t be happening. At least, not anytime soon. Too bad, really. She could have used the break. But with a wedding to plan and her friend on a rampage, all semblance of sanity flew out the window, leaving her feeling set upon, and more than a touch overwhelmed.
Settling deeper in the chair, Aurora yawned and curled her legs beneath her. Shifting against the well-padded backrest, she found a comfortable crook to lay her head. Her eyelids grew heavy and slid closed. She blinked, trying to keep them open. After several attempts, she abandoned the cause. She would just rest for a moment, and then if she were lucky, she might find herself better equipped to deal with the surrounding pandemonium.
“Rory?” Touch gentle, someone jostled her shoulder. “Time to wake up.”
With a gasp, Aurora came awake with a start. “Wh-what?”
“You fell asleep.”
“Oh.” Raising both hands, she rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Quinlyn’s mouth curved. “No doubt. Lord Brigham has been wearing you a bit thin lately.”
“Very funny, Quin.” Frowning, she glanced around the solar. Not a whisper of sound. No one in sight either. Were that not remarkable enough, the endless yards and piles of fabric were gone. All the dried flowers had disappeared, and everything appeared to be in its proper place. Not even Nate was anywhere to be seen. “Where is everyone?”
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