Mary Wine - Improper Seduction

“You will learn to look for it near sunset.”

He reached into the window and pulled the shutters in. The thick wood covers blocked out the light, casting the still room into semidarkness. The dimness sent a tingle across her skin because her memory of what Curan did to her in the night was a passionate one. He grasped her hand and she jumped, far too aware of every touch he laid on her.

He clicked his tongue at her in reprimand.

“I do believe this might be the longest week of my life, waiting for your courses to be finished.” His face was cast into shadow and his voice was dark and husky while his hand clasped her warmly. His thumb found the center of her palm and rubbed it gently.

“Week?”

“Aye. I have come to understand that is the longest that a woman’s courses might last.” His thumb sent shivers down her spine and drew her nipples tight. “But some are shorter …”

He leaned down and placed a kiss against her lips. “Dare I hope you will come to me sooner … Bridget?”

His voice was soft, too soft. He was testing her. Tension knotted in her belly, and she squeezed her hand tightly against his to still his teasing thumb.

“I must be sure that I am clean …”

“Ah … of course.”

Silken and smooth, his voice didn’t betray anything, but she could feel him circling her like a hunter looking for the weakest spot on his prey.

“That is nothing to question me over, my lord. It is—”

“We are alone, Bridget.”

His voice rose, and she clearly heard its sharp expectation. He pulled her closer by their joined hands, twisting their forearms to bring her nearer.

“You shall use my name when we are in private.”

It was the command in his tone that tempted her to do as he said, but it was the flicker of need in his eyes. Lurking in the dark pools was something she had difficulty defining, but her heart seemed to understand. A desire to know you were treasured. It was hidden behind the stiff expression of the warrior, shoved down behind the mask he wore when being dutiful to every part of his life.

She knew that burden, too, always hearing the lingering echo of what was expected of her.

“As you say, Curan.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, remaining frozen, but her heart accelerated and she became aware of each one of his fingers wrapped around her own. He suddenly drew in a deep breath.

“I suppose I must learn to ask you for what I wish in private.” He placed a soft kiss against her hand before allowing their hands to lower between them.

“We should attend supper. I suspect the clergy will refuse to bless the meal until you and I appear.”

The look in his eyes told her he could care less about the meal awaiting them. But the guilt that had assaulted her earlier resumed its tearing at her.

“We should not keep others from eating.”

“I suppose you are correct. You will have to teach me the appropriate manners for a household. I believe they are different from commanding an army.”

Bridget smiled and then laughed. There was no holding back her amusement. They were closer to the door now, and the fading daylight illuminated Curan’s expression. Back was that easy expression that he used with his sister. Her lips rose higher and parted to show her teeth.

“You do not smile enough, Bridget.”

“I do not? I do not believe I have seen a single one gracing your lips.” At least not one that wasn’t mocking.

He shrugged, his powerful shoulders relaxed but still looking so strong. He pulled her out into the hallway.

“A commander needs to be focused on what is happening around him, not finding things to make him smile.”

He maintained his grasp on her hand, a grasp that seemed such an intimate thing. Her mother had held her hand, but this was vastly different.

“I suppose that is what makes you so competent in your position.”

He titled his head and studied her from a sidelong glance. “Yet it does not please you, does it, Bridget?”

She tried to pull her hand from his. The smile faded but only for a moment before his lips curved back up and his fingers gently massaged her hand.

“You are too tense. Our arrangement is three years old. I find it odd that you are still so ill at ease with me.”

“I have not been in your company these three years. Thinking about something is different than doing it.”

He nodded, but suspicion glittered in his eyes. Bridget pulled on her hand again but gained nothing. Frustration made her temper heat.

“I have been in the company of only my mother as well. If you wanted a wife who was used to being in the company of men, perhaps a court lady would have been a better choice for your wife.”

He stopped and turned to face her. But the man did not remain still. He released her hand and reached for her face. She tried to command herself to remain firmly rooted in the face of his imposing stature but failed miserably. Her feet retreated before her mind was able to order them to stand in place. She bumped into the wall and hissed with frustration.

“I am such a ninny …” The words slipped out.

Curan laughed. Only it wasn’t the sort of amusement heard when the players were performing well. This was a deep rumble of male enjoyment. He pressed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her body, caging her with his muscular limbs while his body faced her.

“I see the correctness of what you say, Bridget. You are not resisting our union, merely skittish now that the moment is here.”

“Horses are skittish, sir!”

His eyes narrowed as he angled his head down to look at her. Her muscles were twitching with awareness now, her skin warming and becoming sensitive once more. His eyes focused on her mouth, and the tender skin of her lips actually tingled. She licked her lower lip before realizing that he was watching her mouth so intently. His smile melted away as his mouth became a hard line of hunger.

“So are you, Bridget. If you do not like the term, I suggest you take action to change.”

“You are the one who left me earlier, my lord.”

She used his title on purpose. He was too close, and it was awakening her passion for him. She needed space before she weakened further, before her resolve to follow her mother’s words melted in the flames of need.

“If I hadn’t, I would have taken you up against the wall without a care for how unclean you think you are.”

It was harsh and blunt, but she witnessed the truth simmering in his eyes. He meant each word.

“Then you should back away from me now, before your control is tested beyond your endurance.”

His lips rose into a grin, a teasing glint mixing with the hunger in his eyes. “There is wisdom in your words, but I confess that you often have a way of encouraging me to behave il-logically … Bridget.”

He bent down and captured her mouth with his. His hands remained pressed against the wall beside her shoulders, but that did not lessen the impact of his kiss. It was bold and demanding. His tongue teasing the seam where she had her lips pressed together. His hands left the wall, coming to cup the sides of her face and angle her head so that he might apply more insistence to the kiss. Her jaw opened without thought. Need led her forward, refusing to allow her to ignore the pleasure. She wanted it and reached for him, her hands slipping up and over the hard muscles of his chest to hold on to his shoulders.

The touch was pure bliss. Delight flowed through her and excitement tightened her belly. Her clitoris throbbed and she enjoyed it. Her tongue stroked his, laying with it as the kiss continued.

Someone cleared their throat, a loud sound meant to interrupt them. The hands holding her head tightened a fraction before Curan lifted his mouth away from hers. Her body lamented the loss of his touch, and frustration at the interruption whipped through her. An answering flare of displeasure met her from Curan’s dark eyes.