Or why she kissed him back. With abandon. In front of a crowd of witnesses.
Lord love a duck. Bold didn’t begin to describe him. Delicious, either. He tasted like a man should…pleasure-bound wild. Needy too, with a hint of spice and full-bodied heat. Umm, he was good. Beyond delectable, and— “You’re mine now,” Brigham growled against her mouth. Holding her gaze, he retreated, only to come back and nip her bottom lip. “Mine.”
His possessive tone cranked her tight. Alarm whispered through her. Which didn’t make a lick of sense. His “mine” shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t as though she could debate the point. It was true, after all. She’d said the vows. Made the commitment. So aye. By law…in the eyes of men and under God, she belonged to him. And yet, something rose in protest from deep inside her. Something insistent and strong. And in that moment, she wanted to be more than just “his.”
More than a lord’s chattel. She wanted to be valued, appreciated, and aye…loved.
Oblivious to her train of thought, Brigham swung her into his arms. A quick pivot, and he trotted down the steps while cradling her. Aurora sucked in a quick breath. A cheer rang out, racing through the crowd. Heat burned across her cheeks. God’s teeth, of all the times to play the hero. Forget the fact she didn’t make a good damsel in distress. True to form, Brigham did as he pleased. Consequences—and the blow to her pride—be damned.
“My lord, this is not necessary,” she murmured, resisting the urge to maim whatever part of her husband she could reach. “Put me down.”
Ignoring the threat of violence in her voice, Brigham bounced her in his arms. A moment later, he grinned, pure devilry in his eyes.
“I mean it.” She sent him a warning look, trying to appear as if nothing untoward was taking place before an amused bishop and all the wedding guests. Unsure what to think, the congregation watched the spectacle, blinking like astonished owls as her husband hauled her down the aisle. “Put me down…please.”
“Nay, I prefer you where you are.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. The brute. “I am enjoying myself.”
Aurora stifled a snort. “Well, I’m certainly glad one of us is. My lord, you are making a scene.”
“And?”
“And…is that all you have to say? And?” Aurora huffed, frustration getting the better of her. “God’s teeth, is there no end to your antics?”
He raised a brow. “It’s my wedding, and if I choose to make a scene, I will.”
“Ours,” she said with more volume than she intended, only to lower her voice when the collection of interested owls hooted in their wake. “It is our wedding…not yours, but ours.”
Chuckling, Brigham ignored the flock. Now out of their pews, they flapped in the imminent threat of pursuit. “Very well. Ours, little heart. I stand corrected.”
Aurora bared her teeth. “You are embarrassing me, you great big brute.”
His smile widened into a grin. “Nay, I’m not.”
“You’re not?” At a loss, Aurora frowned at him. “What precisely, then, are you doing?”
“I am cherishing you.”
“Cherishing me?” Aurora echoed, disbelief riding roughshod over mental acuity. “By carrying me off the moment our vows are said like some sort of barbarian marauder?”
“Aye, well, we all have our own view of such things, do we not?”
“And what, exactly, is your view, my lord?”
“Of a certainty, I am cherishing you,” he said, dark eyes twinkling. “After all, I am being courteous. I am allowing you to rest your feet while at the same time helping you to keep pace.”
Aurora’s right eyelid twitched. “You do realize, my lord, this is a wedding, not a race. There is no need to hurry.”
He mumbled something Aurora didn’t catch, but sounded suspiciously like “Aye, there is every reason.” Whatever that meant.
“God’s teeth, you have lost your mind.”
“Not so, little heart,” he said, mischief in his tone. “I am simply living up to the promise in my vows. I vowed to cherish you, and so I am.”
“And your way of cherishing me is to embarrass me at my own wedding?”
Brigham’s eyes narrowed on her upturned face. “Our wedding, if you’ll recall.”
Aurora fought the urge to growl at him. “Aye, our wedding. And while you are entitled to your views on cherishing, the same can be said for my interpretation of, oh, I don’t know, let’s see…obedience, mayhap?”
“Are you threatening me, Aurora?”
The question rumbled in her ear, making the fine hair on her nape stand straight up. Oh, dear. Not good. The low tone signaled trouble. Anyone with half a brain would’ve recognized the intonation for what it was: a warning. Still, Aurora refused to back down. No matter what Brigham said—or how he acted—the groundwork must be laid. Right now. Before she went any further. Aye, he might not love her—at least, not yet—but he would respect her.
Or there would hell to pay.
“Nay, my lord,” Aurora said, determined to the hold the line and make her point. Not an easy endeavor in the face of his growing displeasure. “I am offering to explain my views on obedience. Do you suppose your opinion differs on that point as mine does on your idea of cherishing?”
Brigham’s pace slowed. Tense with dread, Aurora held her breath as he came to a standstill near the end of the aisle. His grip tightened, and had the subject not been so important to her, Aurora would have let the issue drop. In an instant. Without argument. And then run in the other direction. But the fact remained: it was vital to her, so important she risked his anger and further embarrassment in front of the onlookers huddled not far behind them.
“You vowed to obey.” Dipping his head, Brigham pressed his mouth to her ear. The edge of his teeth grazed her lobe. She swallowed, getting the distinct impression of a wolf scenting his prey. “It is my right, as your lord and husband, to expect your compliance in all things.”
The warmth of his breath ghosted over the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her skin reacted, coming alive in a wash of gooseflesh as prickles of awareness drifted down her spine. Heart thumping hard, she shivered and drew a shallow breath, wrestling with her composure, trying to remain calm and even. Becoming upset wouldn’t impress him. Arguing her point, however? Aye, that just might. Brigham valued control and enjoyed a sharp intellect. ’Twas time to show him both.
“I did, my lord,” she whispered, her tone respectful. No sense tempting fate. Besides, he was listening. ’Twas a good sign…wasn’t it? “You have every right to expect such from me. I am well aware of your rights and my promises. Now, I would like to lay claim to a few rights of my own.”
She paused. When he said nothing, she reset her courage. “Respect from you and others is chief among the rights I would claim. Embarrassing me like this, no matter how amusing you find it, does not qualify. If you chose to do so, that is your right and I cannot stop you, but know this…I am no nit-witted lightweight. I am now your wife, and I will not be bullied or treated in a fashion contrary to my own needs. I have suffered enough of that from my uncle, my lord. I will not accept it from you.”
Still and silent, Brigham drew a deep breath. His spicy scent caressed her an instant before he nipped at the rim of her ear and raised his chin. Dark gaze serious, he considered her a moment. After a terse pause, he raised a brow. “You wish to walk?”
Aurora swallowed her surprise. “Aye, please.”
Muscles uncoiling, he swung her onto her feet. One arm around her waist, he kept her close, his large hand on the small of her back to steady her. Resting her hands on his shoulders, Aurora bit her bottom lip to hide a smile. Land’s sake…she’d won. Bested the brute, but only because he’d allowed it. The notion delighted her. Brigham had conceded to her wishes. All she’d needed to do was ask. Overjoyed with him, she murmured her thanks only to realize he wasn’t listening. She looked right, following his narrow-eyed gaze to the gaggle of voyeurs clumped together several feet behind them.
His nostrils flared. An instant later, Brigham growled at the group over the top of her head. The action caused a flurry of motion as they backpedaled, tripping over one another in an attempt to place more distance between themselves and her brute. Aurora’s hand flew over her mouth as a number of guests became tangled together and landed in an undignified heap in the middle of the petal-strewn aisle.
Aurora choked on laughter. Good Lord, he was uncivilized. Aye, magnificent and unmannered in an endearingly brutish sort of way. Aurora smothered a snort. “Endearing” was the last word she should use to describe her husband. But then, the fact remained that Brigham had been wonderful. His willingness to listen to her objection in a less than ideal situation proved it…beyond a shadow of doubt. And as she skipped along behind him, Aurora indulged in a smile.
All right. So it wasn’t perfect, but at least, it was a start. A good one, considering she now made her way into the keep on her own two feet.
Buoyed by that fact, reveling in her win, Aurora allowed him to tow her along in his wake. When he entered the keep and turned left instead of right, however, she frowned. He led her up a winding set of stone steps. The back entrance…the one that bypassed the great hall and ended above stairs. Where the devil was he going? As the question circled inside her head, she squinted against the slivers of light coming from the arrow slits along the castle’s outer wall. Catching her toe on the top step, she stumbled, bumping into Brigham. With a tug, he righted her balance, then plunged into the dim length of the corridor. A collection of lavish tapestries whirled by and…
All at once, his destination became apparent.
Aurora lost her ability to breathe for a second. Good lord. He couldn’t be…didn’t mean for her to…to…oh, bother.
“Ah, my lord? Are we not going to the hall?”
Glancing at her over his shoulder, Brigham shook his head. “Nay, we are headed to my chamber.”
“Your chamber…well…” Check and mate. Confirmation received and verified. She was in so much trouble. In way over her head with no way out. “But what of the guests? Surely they will wonder at our absence.”
“They will discover soon enough that we will not be joining them, little heart.”
The torches set in iron brackets along the smooth stone-faced corridor hissed, as though conveying support and approval of his plan. The sputtering sound tapped along Aurora’s spine. Her palms went damp. Butterflies let loose, churning the pit of her stomach. Not sure what to do, she tugged on his hand. Brigham gave hers a gentle squeeze, reassuring her as he veered right toward his chamber.
Aurora swallowed to work moisture into her mouth. “But, they will know. I mean…assume that we…that you and I are…”
Brigham hummed. “And so we shall.”
Her heart dropped into her stomach. Stall. She needed to stall. Employ a convincing tactic to change his mind. She wasn’t ready. Had assumed she would have the evening to become accustomed to the idea of bedding Brigham. Not that she didn’t want to touch him again. She liked the feel of him, after all, but ’twas all happening so fast. Faster than she expected and…
“My lord?”
“Aye?”
“Could we not join the festivities? Mayhap dance a bit?”
“We will be dancing, Aurora,” he murmured, the eagerness in his voice telling. “My favorite sort of jig as well.”
Panic picked up her heart. Blood rushed in her ears, then through her veins, making her fingertips tingle. Needing separation, she withdrew, shoes shuffling against stone as she tugged her hand from Brigham’s. To her surprise, he let go and turned to face her. Only then did she realize she stood in front of a wooden door set into the stone hallway.
She looked from him to the door, then back again.
Understanding in his eyes, he cupped her cheek and tipped her face up. “Aurora, look at me.”
Not knowing what else to do, she obeyed.
“’Twill be all right, loving.” Holding her gaze, he sent the pad of his thumb skating along her jaw, then changed course to brush over her bottom lip. The corner of his mouth turned up as he leaned toward her. “Surely you didn’t think you would have it all your way?”
“No,” she whispered, finding comfort in his touch despite her nervousness. “It’s just that I’m not sure—”
“I am,” he said, tone coaxing.
Caressing her one more time, he stepped back. He thumbed the door latch. Iron scraped against wood an instant before the door swung wide. He didn’t move. Instead, he waited for her to decide. Turn and run. Or enter his domain. She hesitated a heartbeat but, in the end, gave him his due and stepped over the threshold.
The door clicked closed behind her.
Unable to look at him, Aurora concentrated on her surroundings. Moving into the chamber under the guise of curiosity, she struggled to compose herself. He allowed the distance, leaving her to wander the room. Pausing now and again, Aurora inspected the variety of trinkets left out on small tables and chests. But she avoided the bed altogether, skirting the four-posted monstrosity in favor of less intimidating fare: one of Brigham’s many traveling chests. Armor hung on a rack beside the plain trunk. The metal links gleamed in the firelight, keeping company with the assortment of weaponry laid out alongside it.
With a shiver, she moved on and regarded Brigham out of the corner of her eye.
He remained by the door. Shoulders propped against the wooden planks, he seemed content to observe her from afar. He appeared relaxed, blasé even, but Aurora knew better. She could feel the heat of his gaze. It burned through her clothing, traversing the entire width of the chamber. Like some great patient predator, he watched and waited, studying her, learning her habits, awaiting the perfect time to pounce.
She didn’t like it. The watching. The waiting. The tension in the air. ’Twas akin to being stalked.
The realization made her change tactics. Settling her mind, girding her heart, setting her courage, she moved toward the inevitable instead of away. Meeting him head-on would be better…safer somehow. How she knew that, Aurora wasn’t sure. But honestly, she couldn’t take much more. If things continued in this vein, she might well be daft, stripped of all confidence, before he made his move.
Stopping in front of the hearth, she stood in the center of the thick rug. The heat of the well-laid fire rushed to greet her, warming her back. Taking a fortifying breath, she lifted her chin and faced Brigham. Her gaze on his, she reached up and pulled the pins, one by one, from the coiled length of her hair. The thick strands cascaded around her shoulders, waves of fiery gold illuminated by the crackling warmth behind her.
’Twas a bold maneuver.
She intended it to be. But as she watched Brigham’s expression turn from patient indulgence to rampant need, she wondered if brazenly inciting his passion was the best idea. Especially under the circumstances. He was so much bigger, so much stronger…what if he lost control?
Aurora swallowed as Brigham slid the locking bolt home and pushed away from the door. He started toward her. Apprehension mingled with excitement, sending mixed messages. Stay or run. Both options tugged at her. She’d hoped that offering herself to him would hurry along their encounter. But seeing him loom large before her, Aurora realized she’d bitten off more than she could chew. And now that she’d unleashed him? God help her, but she didn’t know if she could handle him.
Wide-eyed, she tensed as Brigham halted before her. Chewing on the inside of her lip, she tried to bring her fear under some semblance of control. “My lord, I am a little…nervous. I have no…I am not sure I can—”
“Be easy, little heart.”
Easy? An impossibility. Relaxing would mean letting her guard down. And with him standing so close, that seemed an impossible endeavor. “I’m scared.”
“I know. ’Tis only natural for you to fear your first time. But I need you to trust me now.” Raising his hand, he cupped her face, his touch so gentle, so patient and kind, it took her breath away. So she staye
d true, standing strong, allowing each caress, sighing when he delved into her hair. Drawing alluring circles on her temples, he titled her chin up and met her gaze. “Trust me, little heart. I seek only your pleasure and mine. I will not hurt you, loving.”
“All right,” she whispered. “I’ll trust you.”
Approval in his eyes, his mouth curved. Moving slowly, he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. Another soft caress. A gentle nip, and he demanded entrance. Aurora opened to accept him. His taste invaded her mouth, teasing her with a hint of mint. Pure delight slithered down Aurora’s spine. ’Twas craziness, but he tasted just right, like open air and starlit skies…freedom and afternoon swims. But as the kissed turned incendiary and her body heated, her mind rebelled, reminding her this time was different. This time there would be no stopping. This time more than his tongue would invade her body.
The thought prompted another. One in which pain took the reins. Fear surfaced again. Aurora stiffened, withdrawing from him in subtle ways as instinct urged her to self-protection. Sensing her disquiet, Brigham eased the pressure of the kiss. His tongue flicked over her bottom lip. As she sighed, he slid one hand along her back and pressed her closer. A tremor rolled down her spine as she resisted his touch. Wise enough to know he could not force her compliance, he kept his caresses light, each stroke designed to coax her trust, cajole a willing response that would turn her tension into heated desire. His strategy worked. She relaxed, becoming more pliant as she responded to his touch and pace.
Continuing his assault on her senses, he gifted her with soft kisses, his mouth skimming along her jaw. When she moaned, he changed direction. His mouth jumped to her throat. The sharp edge of his teeth nipped her pulse point, setting her aflame, making her burn with desire. Shifting in his embrace, she went searching for it, becoming the aggressor as she sought bliss in the heat of his embrace. He encouraged her, murmuring demands, praising her enthusiasm, giving all she wanted. Except…
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