His men stopped working, pausing in their duties to eavesdrop on the conversation. Brigham kept his attention on Aurora, wondering when she would realize they stood in full view of a busy courtyard. She froze as the hush fell. Her gaze drifted to his soldiers, then flew back to him. She scowled at him. He raked her with a glance, allowing her to see his desire for her, his expression thick with the threat of retribution if she refused to forgive him. Faced with his lust, she squeaked in alarm and made a hasty retreat. Scurrying up the stairs, she disappeared inside before he lost his head and ravished her on the steps of Alvars Keep.
EPISODE SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Alone at Last
Aurora came awake in slow degrees. Content in her haven, body warm and muscles lax, she drifted through the hazy layers of slumber. Curled on her side, she kept her eyes closed and, back pressed against his front, snuggled closer to Brigham. He rumbled in his sleep. Her mouth curved as his arm tightened around her.
Every morning started the same. With him wrapped around her.
A lovely way to start the day. Except for one thing. She was addicted now—to his heat and strength, to his woodsy scent and his love of a good cuddle. To the way he treated her…with such attentiveness, Aurora didn’t know how to react most of the time. Hug him thrice a day for his excellent care of her? Or throttle him for coddling her like a child? It was a tossup, really. Particularly when she considered his obstinate nature, and the fact he always got his way.
In everything.
Witness the fact she lay on the ground, under his mantle, in the middle of nowhere. Naught but a rough road, thick forest, and Brigham’s soldiers surrounding her—instead of where she wanted to be…inside Alvars with her best friend. The thought gave her a pang of regret. Aurora sighed, listening to birds twitter above her head. Three days. Three whole days since she’d ridden out of Alvars and left Quinlyn behind. At first, she’d prayed for a miracle, anything that might delay the journey: a rainstorm, impassible thoroughfares, broken wagon wheels. Now she knew better. Brigham was a force of nature. He made a plan and everyone fell into line. Even Mother Nature cooperated, ensuring the weather remained bright and the roads dry and clear.
’Twas a conspiracy.
It had to be. Nothing else explained Brigham’s ability to win every battle. Were she inclined to sulkiness, she would’ve spent the rest of her days in a perpetual state of temper. As it was, she refused to fight fate—or at least was smart enough to know she couldn’t win—and stopped tempting it after the first day of traveling. A day she’d spent in desperation, born of the need to stay angry at Brigham for his high-handedness.
So far, she was succeeding. But not by much.
Today wouldn’t be any different. Not with Brigham on the rampage…and about to wake up.
She could tell by the way his breathing changed. The shift of heavy muscle and long limbs behind her was a dead giveaway too. But the true tell—the thing she couldn’t ignore? His hand firmed around her breast, the one he liked to hold while he slept. She drew in a soft breath. Brigham hummed and, fingers flexing, brushed his thumb over the sensitive peak. Aurora shivered. He shifted in suggestion against her bottom and nuzzled the spot behind her ear.
“Good morrow, little heart,” he murmured, voice full of gravel.
With his hard length pressed against her, Aurora’s resolved slipped. She caught it at the last moment. No way would she give in without a fight. Or lose the opportunity to make her point. “Good morrow.”
“Good sleep?” Propped up one elbow, he nudged her onto her back. The moment she complied, he surrounded her, caging her with his body.
Self-preservation kicked in. She needed to keep him at bay. A day or two longer. Men respected strength and those who stood their ground. She planned to do just that in the hopes of teaching him that her opinion mattered. So aye. No giving in. At least, not yet. The instant she did, he would press his advantage…and she would lose every ounce of hers. So instead of surrender, she went on the offense. Holding his gaze, she pressed her hands, palms flat, to the wall of his chest. He leaned in. She pushed up, keeping him at a safe distance.
All right. Mayhap safe was overstating it a bit. Especially with him so close and her so, well…on her back.
“I slept well,” she said, still trying to keep the brute at bay. He made it difficult, stroking the outside of her leg, cupping her knee, tempting her to open wide and let him settle in. She battled back, keeping her legs closed, denying him the cradle of her thighs. “You?”
Drawing maddening circles on her calf, he grinned. “Could have been better.”
“Truly?” His hand dipped beneath the hem of her skirt. Aurora gasped, muscles twitching, arousal rising as he stroked her skin. She cleared her throat. “I am sorry to hear that, my lord.”
“Would you like to know why?”
“Not particularly.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to tell you anyway.”
“Brigham,” she said, warning in her tone.
Lord help her. She needed to get away from him. Right now. He was too charming, and she too susceptible. If he used both body and words to charm her, she wouldn’t survive the onslaught. She’d perish. End up naked beneath the blankets with him deep inside her.
A compelling thought. Beyond distracting.
But not yet. ’Twas far too soon to give up the game and hand him the victory.
“I lack exercise.” Stringing soft kisses around her ear, he managed to distract her long enough to slip one thigh between her legs. “A certain kind of exercise only you can provide.”
He pressed up, the muscle of his leg riding snug against her core.
Aurora sucked in a quick breath.
Brigham hummed. “Forgiven me yet?”
She dug in, struggling to hold the line. “’Tis too early in the day for forgiveness.”
His mouth curved.
She went on high alert. “Brigham.”
Unfazed by her warning tone, he slid his hand along her ribcage. Heat touched her breast a moment before he cupped her. Holding her gaze, he sent his thumb skating in teasing circles, driving her daft, arousing her with each sure stroke. Eyes full of mischief, he dipped his head. She tried to head him off at the pass. It didn’t work. He slipped beneath her guard. The edge of his teeth grazed her pulse point. As she bit down on a moan, he nipped the underside of her chin. With a gasp, she gave ground, and he moved to her mouth, dipping in to deliver his taste as he pressed his thigh up, rubbing…oh, mercy…just the right spot.
“Mayhap…you really shouldn’t…” Unable to stop herself, she arched beneath him. “You need to…oh-h-h, that’s—”
“What? Good, isn’t it? You like that, don’t you?” Breathing hard, he kissed her harder, driving her toward pleasure. Another soft nip. A guttural groan, and he retreated long enough to look at her. “Tell me you want me.”
“I…”
“Say it, loving. Give me what I need.”
Need. Oh, unfair. Had he used any other word, she could’ve resisted. Held out and denied him. But the fact he needed to know she desired him? She sighed. Drat, drat…and triple drat. The battle she fought was lost. Well, at least for the moment. “I do want you, but—”
“No buts.”
She ignored that bit of idiocy and swam for safer waters. “Brigham…your men. They are all around us. We have no privacy here.”
“Bloody hell.” With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “’Tis a conspiracy. Will I never be alone with you?”
Aurora choked on a laugh.
“Unfeeling wench.”
He sounded so put upon the imp in her responded. Time for some payback. Just a little. Only enough to tease him back, all while knowing she was safe. He wouldn’t retaliate now, here in front of his soldiers. Which meant the field belonged to her. So instead of retreating, she entered the ring and sent her hands skating. Fingers spread wide, she caressed him through his tunic, touchin
g as much of him as she could reach. Stroking over his shoulders, she showed no mercy, brushing kisses along his jaw as she slid her hands into his hair. Hmm, heavens. So nice. Soft and thick, the strands played between her fingertips as she grazed his scalp with her nails and rolled her hips into his. His breath caught as he arched against her. Pulling his head down, she licked into his mouth, kissing him the way he’d taught her.
“Aurora.”
Playing him like a fine tune, she cranked him so tight he shivered in her arms. “Turnabout is fair play, you know?”
He growled, the sound half-huff, half-amused. “Little vixen. I’ll get you back, you know.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. But later. For now, ’tis time to get up.” He slapped her hip and rolled to his feet. Cold air washed over her, dousing desire as he tossed her his mantle. “We leave within the hour.”
Surprised by the abrupt shift, Aurora blinked and, propped on her elbows, watched him retreat. She frowned. Well, so much for payback. She’d barely begun and now he was out of range, striding across the makeshift camp without a backward glance. Confounded man. Unpredictable, too. Part of his charm, she knew, and yet she wanted to best him…
Just once. If only to experience what it felt like to win.
With a sigh, she sat up and scanned the clearing. Tucked into their bedrolls, men littered the ground, forming a circle around her, soft snores rising in the clearing. Six sentries, though, stood wide awake, backs to the camp, gazes scanning the forest, hands on the hilts of their swords. Brigham nodded to each one as he passed, then veered left toward one of the wagons. A moment before he stepped around it, he paused to touch Camden’s shoulder, then strode toward the tree line. As he disappeared from view, dawn arrived, pulling the golden hues of the coming day through breaks in the trees.
Throwing the covers aside, Aurora rolled to her feet. Time to get moving and gather their things. More efficient than most, the others packed fast and broke camp faster, and she refused to hold them up by being the slowest in the group. The last thing she needed was— “My lady?”
Rubbing her back, Aurora picked up the cloak and turned. “Good morrow, Emmet.”
“Good morrow, my lady.” The youth returned her smile and reached for the mantle she held. “If it pleases you, my lady, I’ll take that and see to the storing of the other supplies.”
She sighed. “Emmet?”
“Aye, my lady?”
“Did we not have this very same conversation yesterday?”
Emmet flushed. “Aye, my lady. But ’tis just that, well…you are a lady.”
“Aye, and I thank you for noticing,” she said, clinging to her eroding patience. “But lady or nay, I am more than able to see to myself and our things.”
“But, my lady, ’tisn’t a chore for you to do.”
“Why not?” She raised both brows, stifling a laugh when the lad’s stern expression shifted to bafflement.
“Because.”
“Because? That does not seem a viable argument to me, Emmet.” He scowled at her. Aurora bit her tongue to keep from laughing. But it was hard. The lad had learned from the best. He frowned almost as well as Brigham. A death grip on her amusement, she shooed him away with a wave of her hand. “Off you go. You’ve other duties to see to besides the folding of my furs.”
Grumbling something under his breath, he turned and headed across the clearing.
Aurora chuckled and bent to retrieve the bedding. After folding each piece, she took a much-needed trip to the woods, then sat by the fire to break her fast. The flames glowed orange, devouring the wood scavenged from the forest as she ate the crusty bread and yellow cheese. Smoke danced with the breeze, twisting on a slow rise to meet the leaves of the towering oak above. The jangle of horses’ harnesses caught her attention. Almost time to go. A few more minutes, and Brigham would give the signal and— Ah, and speak of the devil. Right on cue.
Dragging her gaze from her husband, Aurora brushed bread crumbs from her fingertips and hopped to her feet. Stepping around the firepit, she crossed the clearing toward the black. As she came abreast of him, the warhorse swung his head in her direction. He blew in welcome. She hummed in return, murmuring “good morrow” before reaching out to stroke his muzzle. Time and space faded, blocking out the sounds around her as she petted him. Ever a failing, she knew. But she couldn’t help herself. Horses were her passion, and when she was around them she lost track of everything else.
Someone cleared his throat behind her.
Aurora glanced over her shoulder and—
“Oh, my goodness.” Shock riding roughshod over good sense, she met Brigham’s gaze, then shifted focus. The grey mare. Heaven help her, he held the reins of the beautiful filly she’d ridden at Alvars. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She blinked the moisture away, pulling herself together as Brigham stepped in close. Reaching out with his free hand, he touched her chin, tipping her face up until she met his gaze. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, her attention strayed from her husband to his companion. “Truly, Brigham? Is she really mine?”
“Aye, little heart. My gift to you.” Pleasure sparked in his dark eyes a moment before his mouth curved. A tear escaped, rolling over her bottom lashes. He wiped it away, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “I thought you might like to ride on your own today.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat so tight the words came hard. Her cheek pressed to his chest, she hugged him hard.
“I know she cannot replace Misha, but—”
“Oh, but Brigham, she is just as beautiful. Thank you so very much.”
Smiling against the top of her head, he wrapped his arm around her. “’Tis my pleasure, Aurora.”
She gave him one last squeeze and, wiping another tear from her face, turned to greet her gift. The mare bumped Brigham aside to reach her. With a laugh, she laid her cheek against the muted spots of the filly’s neck. “I shall call you Seyber. It suits you.” Aurora stroked a hand along her muzzle. “We will become fast friends, you and I.”
“Ready?”
Overwhelmed by gratitude, she nodded and waited for Brigham to lift her into the saddle. In that moment, she forgave him everything. His arrogance and brutish manner ceased to matter. He knew it too. ’Twas evident in the twinkle his eyes as he beheld the wonder on her face. And worse, perhaps for her, was that she didn’t care. No matter how hard she tried, Aurora couldn’t summon the smallest bit of outrage over the blatant way he sought to manipulate her. Too besotted with her gift, she refused to pretend she didn’t appreciate his generosity.
’Twas a magnificent gesture.
Wholly unnecessary, and yet he’d done it anyway. And in the process, signaled his wish for her pleasure—telling her plainer than words that her happiness was connected to his own. How she came to that conclusion based on him giving her something as simple as a mount, Aurora didn’t know. The majority of ladies, after all, possessed a horse. But somehow the fact Brigham had presented her with the thing she most valued, well…small gesture or not, it spoke directly to that piece of her most susceptible to persuasion—her heart.
Astride now, she reached down to stroke, then pat the side of Seyber’s neck. The mare tossed her head and pranced sideways, following the procession as the group rode out. Aurora’s mouth tipped up at the corners. Nothing could go wrong today. Everything was right with the world—the sky bluer, autumn’s golden splendor more striking, the rolling fields more fair, and the birds’ song sweeter.
Such a flight of fancy. Aurora smiled anyway. Devil may care, for she didn’t. Her mood was too good, so…forget worry. Being carefree—letting worry slide for a little while—sounded a lot more fun.
Readjusting her seat, she shifted in the saddle, allowing the sounds about her to take shape and form. Low baritones drifted beneath low branches hanging over the roadway. The clink of armor joined the murmur, accompanying the steady beat of hooves on compact earth. Like a minstrel’s song, the collective di
n vied for prominence. But ’twas more the sight of her escort that held her attention. As a group they were an impressive lot. Strong, stalwart, and armed to the teeth, the troupe made up Brigham’s personal guard. One no man of sound mind and body would ever challenge.
Numbering twenty in total, the soldiers rode in twos. The formation was designed around protection. Brigham and Camden led the pack. Flanked by two guards, Aurora followed. Two others rode behind her, followed by the wagons hemmed in by knights, while the remaining party brought up the rear. In effect, she was surrounded, the epicenter of a male wolf pack.
Every so often, a shuffle of positions would occur. The two flanking her, however, never changed. Tobias and Nigel—her rescuers from the scuffle with her uncle in the stables at Alvars—were now her personal guards. Their purpose? Her protection. Their leader? Her husband. And although, there was something to be said for feeling safe—indeed, completely secure—Aurora had never felt more the cub in her entire life.
With a sigh, she adjusted her grip on the reins and glanced over shoulder. She spotted Nate without difficulty. He rode behind her in the first wagon and…
Thank God. He was behaving himself…finally.
Relief spiral deep, and Aurora blew out a long breath. Her friend drew trouble like rotting meat did flies. Not entirely his fault, she knew. Nate loved to chat. Which sometimes rubbed others the wrong way. Particularly men. And she worried, forever concerned for his safety.
Not that it stopped him.
The last two days he’d been incorrigible, sounding out their escort, all but drooling over the possibility of a connection. Oh, he’d tried to be careful, but after saving him once from a bevy of fists, Aurora wasn’t keen to do so again. Much to her relief, the guards paid no attention to her wayward friend. She sent quick thanks heavenward for that small favor and faced forward, only to collide with the dark gaze of her husband. Meeting him head on, Aurora leveled her chin and raised a haughty brow in return.
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