Page 30

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Adara

“ Y ou must come across as strong, yet defer to me in areas of rule. He will notice, of course, but I have hope that he will recognize my input as simply helping to guide you in your new role.”

Adara paced at the end of the dining table, her hands splaying as she spoke more to herself than the rest of them.

Muretta was throwing small, rolled bits of bread into Thor’s awaiting mouth across the table.

She mostly missed her target, though Thor did his best to slide across the bench, angling his head to catch her offerings.

Hagan stood against the hearth, arms crossed, staring at them, barely paying attention to Adara’s instruction.

She told herself it didn’t matter. It was Grahame she aimed her words at.

Grahame, who straddled the bench, his well built thighs cradling the wood, his left arm propped on the table.

His upper arm bulged an obscene amount as he cradled his chin in his hand, his gaze fixed on her.

It was the same arm she’d used as a pillow the night previous, after they’d sated themselves.

Twice. As if he knew where her thoughts had gone, Grahame flexed that arm muscle, a devilish grin smearing his lips.

“You were saying, My Lady?” he prodded, stretching his arms overhead then scratching the back of his neck, ensuring his muscles popped in a comely manner.

Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Will you stop it?”

“Stop what?”

He winked. The bastard.

“All of it! The flexing! Muretta! Thor!” Adara snapped, turning her irritation to the others.

Thor sat up straight while Muretta was mid-throw.

The piece of bread bounced off Thor’s nose.

Muretta slapped a hand over her mouth to cover a giggle.

Adara sighed, her shoulders deflating. It had been five days since the Hyrstow people had left.

Five days of her practicing with Hagan in the yard, five days of preparing for travel, five days of Grahame wringing pleasure from her whenever he could.

If he worried over staying with her rather than returning home, he did not show it.

Only Hagan knew of her father’s shrewd gaze, his willingness to pick apart a person with words to back them into a corner.

No one else had seen how ruthless Earl Eadric of Bernira could be.

Adara turned to Hagan, lifting her hands in a helpless gesture.

With a hefty breath, Hagan pushed himself from the wall.

“We leave in six days. None of this will be tolerated where we’re going. My Lord, you will do well to listen.”

Grahame snorted at the implication that he wasn’t listening while Muretta slapped her hands on the table, shoving herself to standing.

She offered a bright smile as she announced, “I shall come with you!”

“No you shall not,” Hagan snapped, going utterly still. The fire blazed behind him, giving him an eerie, beastly presence.

“I will be an asset!” Muretta insisted. She crossed to the opposite end of the table from Adara, her steps light.

Hagan’s jaw clenched so hard Adara thought he might crack a tooth. Adara pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb.

“You are not coming,”Adara stated, her tone flat, “I have told you how dangerous my father and his men are.”

Muretta just pressed her hands to her dress. “I am excellent at reading a room. At sneaking about.”

“Sneaking around will only put you in danger with Eadric’s men,” Hagan snarled.

Adara’s shoulders sagged. Dragging a hand over her face, she said, “I thank both of you for your willingness to help. Muretta, though I appreciate your offer, I do not want to risk you. My father may…enjoy your presence and wish to keep you. And I would have no authority to demand he release you.”

Hagan’s face paled, while Muretta gave a shimmy of her shoulders as if to shake off Adara’s words.

“I was saying—” Adara was silenced by something bouncing off her nose. She shook her head, shock dropping her jaw.

The softness, the scent; someone had tossed a piece of bread at her. That someone straddled a bench to her left, his lips pressed together in an attempt to cage the laugh that clearly wanted to escape.

“Grahame,” she said, piercing him with a glare as her hands found her hips.

“Adara,” he retorted, that damned handsome smile climbing his mouth.

A small screech left her as she rolled to the balls of her feet and dropped back down. “This is important.”

He swung a leg over the bench, bringing himself to his full height.

Green eyes were pinned on hers but his wide smile didn’t falter.

There was an ease to the manner of his movements that Adara envied.

She felt as if her insides were a coiled rope pulling tighter and tighter.

How could he be so relaxed in the face of their treacherous plans?

“I know,” he answered. The toes of his boots touched hers first. Then his hands came up to cup her face.

“I know it is, ’Dara,” he soothed, his voice deepening in a way that made her want to stretch like a cat.

“There is only so much we can prepare. And while I appreciate your warnings, there is not much to be done until we are face to face with the earl. By his temper and mercy will our plans work.”

Adara didn’t miss the use of the word “our” rather than “your.” A small part of her softened. She opened her mouth to respond but Grahame brushed a thumb across her lips, silencing her.

“Allow us to have these nights without worry. Let us act like fools to entertain ourselves. After all, what are we fighting for if not the hope of more nights like these?”

“Here, here!” Thor thundered behind them. The sound of a long drink was followed by a smack of a mug of ale on the table.

Muretta murmured something to Hagan that Adara didn’t quite catch.

All of it was lost to Adara as Grahame’s gaze fell to her mouth.

The tips of his fingers flexed against the nape of her neck then relaxed, as if he could absorb the tension that rested there.

As much as visiting her father pulled at her mind, the way Grahame surrounded her was entirely too distracting.

She let her head fall back into his hands, her eyes becoming slits as her mouth parted.

Her hands were vines climbing the wall of his chest, smoothing over the dips and swells of hard muscle. She arched her brow.

Grahame didn’t need to be told. His smile widened, eyes twinkling with satisfaction. He dropped his mouth to hers, dashing her worry with a kiss that wound its way into her soul.

Grahame

The gritty feeling of sleep lived in the corners of Grahame’s eyes. He clenched them against Adara’s shifting body. Her skin was soft against the proprietary arm he’d thrown around her waist during the night.

“It is morning. I must rise,” she whispered.

Grahame cracked an eye open. He loosened his grip on her enough for her to roll to her front, stacking her hands on one another, her chin crowning them.

Raven strands coated her shoulders, his chest, the pillows.

Hair tickled his chin. With his free hand he tucked it away so he could move without pulling it.

“No,” he chastised, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder.

A rooster interrupted from somewhere outside. Adara scoffed, her eyes dancing.

He couldn’t help but draw her side closer to his front as he spoke, “We should do nothing today but indulge in one another.”

He’d awoken hard and took the opportunity to press his length into her hip. They’d had years apart. It was time to learn one another, to bask in their marriage. Grahame knew it made him a sap, but he didn’t care.

A black eyebrow rose as she rolled to her side so they faced one another. Still, he kept an arm locked about her waist like a manacle.

“Narrowly escaping a battle with Hyrstow is the very reason I am needed. Tenants will have questions. I should have done it as soon as your people left. Travel into Guston is needed to mollify those who will take issue with Hyrstow men tromping back and forth.”

Grahame ground his cock against her mound, dropping a kiss on her nose as she spoke. Adara ignored him, though her hand travelled up his arm causing his skin to light up. He was thirsty for her.

“Can that not wait another day?” he asked, capturing her lips with his.

Adara didn’t respond. Instead, her mouth answered his in kind, her hand rounding his shoulder to secure itself around his neck. He took the opportunity to skim his fingers over the swell of her ample hip then roamed to the juncture of her thighs, to the heaven he knew was waiting there.

“Grahame,” she breathed, though her tone was pleased. Her eyes fluttered closed as he slid a finger through her soft folds and dipped it into her slick center.

“Yes, Wife?” He infused innocence into his tone.

Those grey eyes flashed open again, pinning him to the bed. Something uncertain lived in them. Her hand left his neck to tuck up against his chest. To enjoy the feeling of him or push him away, he wasn’t sure.

“You keep doing that,” she said.

He held her gaze as his finger circled her tight bud, then dipped to her entrance, plunging in agonizingly slow. Adara’s hips jerked in response, wetness slicking his finger.

“My Lady, I have many ideas on how you and I should spend our morning.” The grin that split Grahame’s mouth nearly hurt.

His thumb joined his finger, lazily drawing over her as he withdrew then pushed into her again.

Adara’s gasp was music to his ears. “However, afterward I suggest we exchange discourse.”

Adara smacked his shoulder on a moan, a smile gracing her face at his lofty tone.

“I simply mean that I would like to know you, ’Dara. It’s been ages since we just talked. I used to know you loved to watch the clouds form in the sky. I knew you hated goat cheese and loved the color brown, for some reason.”

“It is an underrated color,” she protested, though her eyes rolled back in her head as his finger curved inside her.