Mary Wine - Improper Seduction

“I believe I have heard enough of what you would have me do with you this day, my lady.” He gestured at his fortress. “I intend to have you seen sitting on my saddle when we ride beneath the gate.” Rich possessiveness coated his words. “At least that will leave no doubt as to whom you belong to among the inhabitants of my holding.”

She smothered a snort. But not quite enough. A chuckle rumbled through his wide chest, raising her ire.

“Still so determined to avoid taking your place, Bridget?” He leaned close to her ear once more. “I thought I proved my worth quite well last night. However, I shall be most happy to persevere and apply my full attention to the task of keeping you satisfied.”

She did not doubt him, and that sent another chill down her back, but it was followed by a flood of heat that touched off a yearning that chewed on her thoughts.

Staying sounded more enticing than ever. Her mental debate took far too much of her energy, leaving her almost relieved to see the gate growing closer. It was so tempting to simply surrender and allow Curan his way.

She still heard the warning in her mother’s voice, however, echoing inside her head and refusing to allow her to relinquish her misgivings.

Time was something she needed. Time in which to flee to her cousin Alice before she consummated a union that might just enrage her father. There was also the growing concern that Chancellor Wriothesley might seek retaliation against Curan for taking her. If the king truly was dying, Curan’s friendship with him would not protect him or her if she chose to celebrate their union.

So she would not, even if he could not see the wisdom in agreeing with her.

Disappointment raked its sharp claws across her heart. The pain was shocking, drawing a shudder from her. The arm around her tightened, the hard muscles securing her tighter against Curan. The first of his men reached the arched opening in the curtain wall.

“Welcome to Amber Hill, my lady.”

There was no missing the deadly edge to his words. Coupled with the imposing stone walls, despair closed around her like the thick clouds pressing down on them. But there was something else. A longing to have fate simply lift the burden from her by making it impossible to avoid being claimed completely by the lord holding her so securely against him.

That surely would bring disaster to them both, and her heart protested. Casting a last look at the hills rising up behind the thick stone walls, she set her thoughts on her cousin Alice.

She would go there soon. She had to.

The household was turned out in full force. The staff must have seen the riders approaching a good hour past because the inner courtyard was filled with servants. Bridget didn’t know where to look first. Amber Hill was quite a surprise. The inner yard was covered in stone. Neatly laid cobblestones and mortar filled in the space between the curtain wall and the towers. It was very modern and very expensive. Not many families spent the money to cover the inner yard, but it kept the mud from being tracked near the doorways and into the towers.

“Your staff awaits, my lady.”

“They await you.”

But they were staring at her and the way their lord had her clamped against his body. Maybe three hundred years ago, brides had arrived in such a manner, but today it was rather misplaced.

Curan didn’t appear to think so. The man looked quite pleased with himself, pulling up on his reins and keeping her securely in front of him while he turned to look at his men filling the courtyard behind them. He didn’t dismount until the last of them was through the gate.

“True enough.” His keen gaze returned to hers, and she stared at the heat smoldering there. By the look in his eyes no one would know that the man was sitting in the chill of an early spring storm.

“And I eagerly await being able to finish the task of bringing you to my home.”

“I am here.”

Bridget tried to slip from the saddle, but Curan held her in place with that strength that fascinated her. Feeling it was by far more enticing than just tracing the bulges of his shoulder muscles. Her belly twisted with excitement, and she wriggled away from him, but he didn’t allow her any space to avoid his embrace.

“Not yet, you are not.” He cupped her chin now that a younger boy had arrived to grasp the bridle of the stallion. His eyes focused on hers, cutting through all the reasons she had to leave him, and finding the answering flare of passion that flickered inside her in spite of her logical needs to leave him.

“My task will not be complete until I place you in my bed.”

She shivered, hot need licking across her skin. Her cheeks turned scarlet because she was certain every person watching them knew exactly what Curan was saying to her, no matter how low his voice was.

“Stop it. Someone might hear.”

He lifted one eyebrow, mocking her attempts to remain proper.

Bridget frowned at him but couldn’t quite stop herself from enjoying the fact that he found her attractive. She suddenly understood why women enjoyed flirting at court; it did stroke the ego quite well. “You are acting like a boy with a new toy.”

“Exactly what I intend, Bridget.” His eyes narrowed, and a hungry curve transformed his lips momentarily. “To play intimately with you as often as possible.”

Her eyes widened, but he released her and resumed his commanding stature.

“Yet such will be done in the privacy of our chamber, as befitting the mistress of my holding, because you are correct. I place too much of our relationship on display.”

He grasped her forearm and lowered her to the ground. Somehow the stallion seemed a lot taller as she was slipping over and down its velvety side. But Curan held her steady, his strength amazing her.

Her feet touched the cobblestones, and he swung his leg over the horse’s neck in a swift motion. She only had time to back up two paces before he was standing beside her. He captured her hand and kept her beside him as the stallion was led away, to leave them facing the assembled staff. Bridget lifted her chin. She was not unaccustomed to being alongside her mother when she addressed the servants, but Curan had a much larger household.

“What shall be done here is you and I making a united entrance into our home.”

There was a note of relief in his voice that surprised her. He was watching her face, and one eyebrow rose in response.

“Can you not believe that I am happy to be home, Bridget? I have been gone many years.”

At his words, she felt guilty because she had been laying her head in a safe and secure home while he was out serving his king—a duty that his wife would share the fruits of but none of the sufferings.

“Forgive me, my lord. You are correct. It must be delightful to be returned home.”

His eyes moved over her face, lingering on her features while everyone waited on them. Curan didn’t allow that fact to hurry him. He reached out and offered her his hand, with the palm up for her to lay her own in.

“It is very pleasing to bring you to Amber Hill, Bridget. I have spent many hours longing for this moment.”

Shame colored her cheeks for the promise her mother had extracted from her. She raised her hand and placed it against his. For just a moment, happiness surrounded them both. Tenderness shone from his eyes, and it touched her heart.

“Too many hours.”

He spoke beneath his breath, almost as though the words slipped out in defiance of his strict composure. He pressed his lips into a hard line and turned her to face his staff.

But her thoughts remained on his words for a moment. The tone of his voice intrigued her. He always appeared so strong that it was very humanizing to discover something so basic as a longing for home in him. This trait was also endearing in a manner that confounded her. She knew full well that the man desired her flesh, but those few words hinted at him needing her for something else entirely.