by Ria Cantrell
“I won’t hurt you, Lass.”
“I know.”
“Nor will I dishonor you.”
She nodded knowing he would not; not really caring at the moment about honor and all that went with it. He smiled down at her, melting her fears so easily. By God, he was handsome…even more handsome than her brother Rory, who was the most handsome man of her clan, and her favorite as they were the closest in age of all her brothers.
Drew felt her eyes appraising him, and he almost laughed at her unabashed assessment of him. Well, he had looked at her often enough, after all. It was only natural for her to look at him. He could tell by the light in her eyes that she found him pleasing. His grin broadened. He never thought about his looks pleasing women. They seemed to, and that was enough, he supposed. This was different. He liked that she was assessing him. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to feel the attraction he seemed to be unable to deny. Her innocence did not allow her the courtly games of cat and mouse. He found that very refreshing and quite disarming.
“Well, are we going to stand here by the door all night?”
She looked down and said honestly, “I canna’ seem to get my legs to move.”
He laughed softly at her innocent candor and he was most enchanted.
“Well, let me help remedy that,” he said wistfully and before she could protest, Drew scooped her up in his arms, forcing her to put her arms around his shoulders and he carried her to sit before the fire. He sat in the big chair and settled her on his lap. With her arms still draped over him, he put his arms around her and drew her head to his shoulder. She pressed a cheek to his shoulder and breathed in his delicious scent. He smelled clean and spicy and male…very male. Her heart continued to thud in her chest rapidly, but now she was no longer afraid. This thudding was caused by something else. He handed her a goblet from the small table next to the chair and he said, “Here, take a sip of this. It will take some of that chill out of you.”
“I am not cold.”
“But, you are shaking.”
“Am I?” She had not noticed that she was.
“Yes”.
She now realized she was but suddenly it did not feel like the trembling was from fear. Nor was it from being cold. It was more like a vibration coursing through her, and it made her feel crazily alive. She took another deep breath, filling her senses with his scent. It was delicious and intoxicating.
“Ye’ smell good,” she said honestly.
“Thank you…so do you.” He smiled, and seemed to bury his face in her hair.
She took a sip of the mead he had given her and then set the goblet down. The warmth of the honeyed wine seeped into her and strangely it did settle her. Her hand wandered across his chest and stroked gently over his shoulder. Her touch was not tentative. He liked that she felt naturally able to touch him. His own hand moved over her back, under her hair and then he snaked his fingers into the long heavy tresses of her auburn tinged locks. He kissed the top of her head and continued easing his fingers through her hair. He tried not to think of how he could happily lose himself in that thick silken hair as the heavy curls twisted through his fingers. He could sense she felt suddenly comfortable in his lap, and she moved her head back into his hand as it played through her hair. It felt wonderful to feel his hand there. Sensations pulsed through her scalp and the back of her neck where his fingers rubbed.
“Lovely,” he murmured. He put his face against her hair again and he breathed in. The lingering scent of wild heather filled his nostrils.
“And soft…like silk…mmmm and sweet smelling, too, like heather in the highlands….”
She wondered how he knew how that smelled. Suddenly she wished to take him to her home and smell the heather there with him. She took his hand from her hair and she kissed it. She naturally was affectionate; he was charmed by that. It was wrong that she had been sheltered from a man’s touch all this time. He whispered, “I really want to kiss you.”
“Aye.”
“Just a little gentle one to start. Don’t be afraid.”
“I am not”, she murmured, and she wasn’t. His lips brushed against hers. He found them to be soft and warm and when he kissed her, they parted softly.
“There, was that scary?”
“Drew, it is not scary. Ye’ are not scary! Please, just kiss me…I really want ye’ to.”
He laughed softly and eased his hands around her back. He was not offended or astounded by her honest need to kiss him. She looked at him and then she kissed him fully on the mouth. He was pleasantly startled. He kissed her gently and after a very short time, he nudged her lips apart. He gently nibbled against her bottom lip and he felt her press closer into the kiss. She moved her arms around his neck and she felt him deepen the kiss. Bronwyn naturally opened her mouth and felt his tongue dart tentatively against hers. A soft moan escaped her, and she kissed him back in earnest. It was as if all her pent up loneliness and worry vanished and was released with that first real kiss. Her mouth plundered his, and he was happily surprised to feel her respond so passionately. That soft little moan undid him. His body reacted boldly to her kiss and to that little moan; not to mention her warm little bottom planted on his lap.
She tasted sweet with the honey of the mead. It was like precious nectar and he suddenly needed to taste more of it. He moved his hands to both sides of her face and he kissed her deeply. He did not have to show her how he liked to be kissed. She was naturally attuned to it. He felt her little tongue touch his and he flicked it against hers teasingly. He heard her moan again. It was so innocently sexy. Damn, it made him hard. She must have felt that he had hardened beneath her because she gasped and said, “Oh!”
He kissed her and said, “Shhhhh, it’s alright. It means I am enjoying your kiss.”
He looked into her eyes and he traced her lips with one finger. She instinctively kissed it. God, she was wonderfully affectionate and sensual. He cleared his throat and said, “Ahhhh…are you sure you haven’t done this before? You kiss quite wonderfully.”
She felt heat flood her face, once again becoming suddenly shy with him.
“Nay, never...only in my dreams, I suppose.”
A dream…something pulled at a long forgotten memory. She had done this before, in a dream, but as she tried to remember more, it was then gone.
A dream…Drew felt like he remembered doing this in a dream with her. It must have been since meeting her. He certainly had dreamed of her, though he did not like to admit it. No, this was not from a recent dream. Drew remembered kissing her in a dream a long time ago. How was that possible? He must be mistaken. It was the recent conjuring of his mind; that had to be it.
“Ahhh, a young woman’s dreams…how enchanting,” he said with a raised eyebrow. Something pulled at a memory of that dream of the past again. What was it? Had he had a dream of this woman before he had actually met her? Why couldn’t he remember it, yet he felt sure she had been in his dreams before. She certainly had been since he met her; nearly every night.
“Hmmm, well you are delicious…and so beautiful…”
“Drew…I…”
“Hush, Sweetheart. I am not a man to flatter falsely. Your fantasies taught you well. Would you kiss me again, please?”
“But ye’ are…ye’ are…,” she did not know how to finish that sentence. She could feel the hard bulge beneath her as she sat on his lap. She knew what that meant, but she could not say it outright.
He grinned seductively at her and said, “I AM, indeed!”
“But if ye’ are…then….”
“You don’t need to worry about that right now. It just means I find you very desirable--and beautiful.”
He kissed her again and she said, “Does it…does it…hurt?”
Her innocence astounded him because she kissed like a girl who knew about the ways between a man and a woman.
“No, it doesn’t hurt…yet.”
“But it will hurt?”
“Not hurt exactly…just fee
l a strong pressure, and a strong urge to make love to you.”
“But I…”
“I know. I promised you I would not dishonor you. I am a man of my word, Bronwyn.”
“But ye’ are English”, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She had just succeeded in insulting this handsome man. She gasped and said, “I am so sorry, I didna’ mean….”
He grinned. He should have been offended, but he could not take offense at her near accusation. How could he? He was English and English to her represented lies, treachery and mayhap even death. He touched her lips and said, “Shhh, I know you did not mean anything by it. There is no war with us. Do not think of me as English and you as Scottish. I am here just as a man, Bronwyn...a man whose only wish is to kiss this very beautiful woman that I am holding. Now kiss me again, Sweetheart. I need it so badly.”
She felt the warm strength of his arms and she settled against him. Was it possible to not war with this man? Could she trust him?
Bronwyn could feel the strange thudding of his own heart beating beneath the thick muscles of his chest, and it filled her with a sense of life. He kissed the side of her face, slowly inching his lips down her neck. It felt delicious and it was sending shivers racing through her. His breath fanned over her neck, and he gently nibbled against the sensitive flesh of her collar-bone.
She breathed, “Drew…”, but he just continued his soft nibbling. She sighed, arching her head back, giving him easier access to her throat. He traced his fingers tauntingly over the opening in her chemise. With an expert touch, he untied the bow at the top of her chest so the chemise parted, exposing more of her silken skin for his lips to explore. She shivered as his fingers skimmed a little lower. He drew her close to kiss her lips again and when their lips met, his hand eased into her chemise, sliding over her bare shoulder.
She knew she should stop him, but somehow she just could not. Nor did she want to. It was absolutely blissful to be touched by this handsome man. After watching him train that afternoon, she marveled at his gentleness. He had the potential to be a brutal warrior, but here with her, he was completely gentle. She kissed his mouth and confessed, “I--I saw ye’ train today.”
“I know. I sensed you watching.”
A puzzled expression passed over Bronwyn’s face. How could he have done such a thing?
A few months ago, Drew would have never believed such a thing either; that was until meeting Rhianna, Erik’s wife. She was uncanny about things and while many lovingly called her a witch, Drew thought it was more true than not. Since then, he also felt some degree of intuition. He hoped that Rhianna’s sense of urgency concerning Erik would carry her quickly to the king’s court.
Bronwyn saw the strange look cross into Drew’s eyes. She touched his jaw and said, “What is it?”
“Lass, I was just thinking of Erik…”
“How did what I’ve said make ye’ thoughts wander to him?”
“His wife is…uhm, well…some say she has the Sight…some say she is a witch. I have found her to be…well sensitive to things. She is actually a healer, but she senses things. Lass, the strange thing is that since I have known her, I too sense things at times. T’is why I sensed you today at the window. It was like I could feel you there.”
Bronwyn did not like to think of the Old Ways. They made her nervous. While her brothers and her da’ were tied whole heartedly to them, she had spent her life resisting the lure of them. Morag certainly had tried her best to instill them in her. Besides, she did not think the English were tied to them like the Scots were. Changing the subject, Bronwyn asked, “Is she beautiful?”
“Rhianna? Oh aye, very.”
A frown wrinkled across Bronwyn’s brow. He kissed her and said, “There is no need to worry, Honey. She is quite taken with Erik, which is why this king needs to reconsider this betrothal of you to him.”
Bronwyn looked down, feeling that the spell had been broken at the mention of her betrothal to Erik. She was as good as an adulteress. Drew sensed her unease immediately and he regretted bringing the entire subject up. He clucked his finger under her chin and said, “Erik is married. He cannot be betrothed to you, regardless of what the king has done.”
“But I…”
“You are not doing anything wrong.”
“I dunna’ want to marry that man!”
Drew loved the lilting sound of her voice. In fact, he wished she would continue talking just so he could listen to her.
“I know you don’t and if I can help it, you shall not.”
She stiffened at his words. Was this seduction part of his plan to thwart the wedding? He said he would not dishonor her, but how could she be certain that was not part of his scheme.
“Besides, I rather fancy getting to know you better; for myself.”
A pretty pout drew her lips down. She thought for a moment and said, “Perhaps I can help ye’. After all I dunna’ want to marry that brute.”
Andrew laughed. “You really have the worst image of him. He is actually a very honorable man. T’is another reason he cannot marry you. He will always honor his vows; he made solemn vows to Rhianna. He would never forsake them.”
Bronwyn’s hand touched Drew’s jaw and she asked softly, “and ye’, Drew? Do ye’ honor yer’ vows? I am not English after all…and ye’ are his guard.”
“I am the same. I am honor bound to him, but I will honor any vow I have made to you. I promise. I am not using you. I would be lying to say I do not want you, because I do, but wanting you is not enough for me to dishonor you. I will never cause you to do anything you do not wish to do. I have no wish to cause you disgrace.”
“What if…it is I who wished to…?”
Drew put a finger to her lips. “Sshhh, Don’t say it. Not yet. I would not have you regretting this moment between us. It has been so perfect so far; I don’t want to spoil it with things you can only regret.”
“But I…”
“You have been very lonely. You have been treated very badly here. It is easy for you to confuse this with other things. I will not let that happen; for that would make me as bad as any other taking advantage of you. Let’s just explore slowly and if all goes well for Erik, we can decide where this relationship will lead.”
Relationship? Wasn’t this just flirting? When had they decided it was more than flirting? Bronwyn did not want to admit that she rather liked the sound of that. She said, “But, I’ve no wish to torment ye’.”
He smiled.
“Sweetheart, you are so innocent.”
She frowned, but he chuckled. “There are ways for us to explore and not cause torment for each of us without me….oh, how shall I say this?”
“Just say it, Drew. I am not a woman without directness. I canna’ be any other way.”
He kissed her again and said, “Sweetheart, we can experience…pleasure with each other and I never have to take your maidenhead.”
“Oh”, she exclaimed, feeling hot warmth flood her face. The blush crept all the way down her chest. He tucked her face against his neck to shield her embarrassment. He guided his hand down her hair.
“I am sorry, lass. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just did not know how else to explain it.”
She kissed his neck softly, imitating the wonderful nibbling he had done to her. She then looked up at him and tawny amber eyes met deep forest ones.
“I am innocent as ye’ have said. Innocent in that I havena’ experienced it on my own, but not innocent in so many things. I have seen sheep…”
“Sweetheart, this will be different than what sheep do.”
Blushing further, she continued, “I once caught my brother Liam with a maid. I shouldn’t have stayed, but I was just a girl and so I watched until he caught me. I am not innocent in the ways of men and women.”
Drew laughed and said, “Did you get in trouble for that?”
“Oh, aye! I could nary sit for a week…even though he was the one tupping with the maid in the barn.”
Drew let out a deep laugh, forgetting to be quiet. She kissed him quickly and said, “Sshhh, Drew. We need to be careful. I do not know who will be posted outside my door at any time.”
“Sorry…I forgot, but you are so disarming. That was quite a cheeky story.”
“Oh ye’ are horrible”, she said at his obvious pun, but it caused her to laugh as well. Her laughter was like the sound of angels to Drew’s ears. She had not laughed much in his company. He kissed her, wishing to taste her lips sweetened with laughter. As he kissed her, he plunged his tongue deeply within her mouth. Once again, that soft sexy moan escaped her lips and he wondered if it would happen every time he kissed her fully. He smiled, thinking how he could enjoy getting used to that little sound.
He whispered, “I want to taste you…all of you.”
And before she could protest or answer, he lowered his head and kissed over the spot where her pulse fluttered wildly. He could feel the vital little vibration as his lips found the place below the little hollow of her throat. His hand eased into the top of her chemise, skimming lightly over the top of her breasts.
“And touch you…”
She suddenly felt her mouth go dry as his fingers teasingly explored just beneath the top of her chemise.
“Touch me, too, Sweetheart,” he murmured. Her fingers found the opening in his shirt, and they grazed ever so lightly over the warmth of his chest. His skin was smooth, covering a thick layer of muscle. She opened his shirt wider and bent her head to kiss that part of exposed flesh. Meanwhile, his hand moved lower and his fingers softly dipped inside of her light chemise. When the tips of his fingers grazed over a peaked nipple, she gasped.
He quieted her and drew her so he could kiss her. As her lips devoured his, his hand slipped fully around her breast, cupping her in his warm palm. The feel of her full round breast in his hand made him hungry to suckle her, but she had gone very still; almost rigid in his arms.
He whispered, “Relax. I am not going to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you.”