Page 36

Chapter

Thirty-One

Grahame

A dara was silent as they walked the hall to Grahame’s room.

She did not say a word as they entered. Had barely looked at him at dinner.

He’d sat through that miserable meal with Adara’s father and intended groom, laughing on cue, disregarding her at every turn, and keeping his hands to himself when all he wanted was to touch her.

To protect her against the words of a man who so obviously wanted to hurt her.

It was as if she was used to walking on knives. The only time Adara had faltered was when Eadric had used the news of her mother’s death to shock her. Still, she played the part of cunning lady well.

Grahame hated it. Hated that she had grown up with such a man teaching her that her survival meant parrying men like him.

Hated she’d been twisted into the woman who understood only vengeance when her cousin was killed.

Hated the only escape she could fathom was strong-arming Grahame into marriage, as if he wouldn’t have come willingly if she had sought him out.

“I am sorry about your mother,” he said, crossing the bedroom to where she stood before the bed.

The Earl of Bernira had taken Adara’s room with the fireplace, of course.

It was a miracle they’d been allowed into Grahame's room. She did not look his way as he approached. Absently, he wondered where the others ended up. If Muretta was safe with Hagan and Thor since they were removed from their rooms to make way for Eadric’s men.

Most of Eadric’s entourage was to bed down in the great hall as there were not enough beds in the house.

“Thank you,” Adara demurred.

Her shoulders slumped, her chin falling to her chest for a heartbeat. As if conditioned to not let herself feel grief, she shoved out a breath then straightened. She began to pull at the ties of her travelling clothes. Grahame’s heart ached at the sight.

“’Dara.” The nickname was nearly a gasp, so desperate was he for her to turn back into his Adara, not this person made from ice and stone.

“You played your part well,” she said.

Grahame inclined his head, moving so he was in front of her. She kept staring ahead, as if he wasn’t there. He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, angling her face up so she would at least look at him. Accusations lay in those steel eyes, so like her father’s, he now saw.

“It felt wrong.” His words were soft. Like his bleeding heart any time he tried to avoid her gaze at supper.

“It did? You switched into the role of hungry lordling without fail.”

“I had to,” he retorted, dropping her chin to plow his hand through his hair. “It’s what you told me to do. What we agreed I would do.”

“Yes, and it appeared to work. My father did not dislike you.”

Adara turned away, moving toward the hulking clothing chest. She freed the laces at the back of her dress, ignoring him.

Grahame closed his eyes and begged for patience.

He’d just made it out of the great room with his neck intact.

The Goddamn earl of Bernira was next door and Adara was…

he didn’t know…moody about him acting his part as instructed?

He felt his sanity slip.

“And how should I have acted, Adara?” he asked, careful to keep his voice low lest someone outside their room hear their conversation. “You were the one who told me to appear as if I aimed high in marriage. To not act as an affectionate husband.”

Her fingers worked the laces free, and she was pulling the dress overhead, her back to him. Her underthings were a simple cotton made for travel—God, had they just been traveling? It felt like a week had passed. As if it didn't know his frustration with her, Grahame’s cock twitched at the sight.

“I know. And it worked. We will have to be on our guard in the coming days.”

She dug in the chest of clothes as she spoke, picked out one of his tunics, then stripped off her day-worn underthings. Without a word she slipped the new garment on.

Adara hadn’t worn anything to bed since the first night they slaked their lust for one another. Another spark of anger joined the flame inside him. He ripped off his own tunic, trousers falling to the floor a moment later. Uncaring of her sensibilities, he shucked his underthings too.

“Do you know how long these visits last?”

Her eyes found him as she turned. They widened a little upon the sight of him naked and half-hard. He smirked. A frown hooked her lips.

“They can last weeks. Travel from his keep is long, especially with so many men in tow. This was definitely a wedding procession, bringing the groom and all these people. He was going to strong-arm me into it.”

Unease was a leech inside him. There was no way she would be married to the brute out there. Allegiance with the north or not, her father had to know that man would beat her and force her as soon as look at her. Grahame came to her side of the bed, unable to help himself. He reached for her wrist.

“Why are you upset with me?” he asked, softening his tone.

Something flitted across Adara’s face before her features hardened. She wrenched her wrist away.

“I simply noticed how easy it was for you to become the man you needed to be. It gave me cause to wonder what else you need to be…for me.”

Bloody hell. She thought him skilled enough to turn his feelings for her on and off at whim? To what end? Secure his position? She’d put him up to this. The marriage, the plan, all of it.

“Do you need me to show you how good of an actor I am? Is that it?” Darkness layered his tone. He didn’t care. Her doubt had hit something in him, a quality he knew he had, one he never thought would be discovered.

“Nevermind, Grahame. Let’s go to bed.”

He caught her forearm before she could turn, hauling her to him. Shock scored her features for a moment, and Grahame thought of how nice it would be to stuff his cock into her rounded mouth. It would give her something to do other than question him.

“No, Wife. You are angry with me for something you commanded me to do.” He spun her to face away from him, one hand on her stomach, the other moving from her arm to around her throat. She twisted her head back to glare at him, fussing in his grasp.

“You’re right,” he said into her ear, his length growing against her backside. She took hold of his forearm, dug her claws in.

“I am good at pretending. Fantastic at it, actually. How do you think I was able to make everyone believe I’d be happy taking over the sheep?

Or fucking women who weren’t you? My ability to lie—to play the Golden Boy, as everyone calls me—is the thing that is going to save our lives.

Because, Adara, darling, you can’t act for shit.

And now that you have me, you’re stuck with me. ”

For all her squirming, she pressed her ass against him, eyes flashing, knowing it drove him mad.

That Goddamn tunic was too raspy against his skin.

He released her throat to take a handful of material, rucking it up around her waist. The movement allowed his cock to spring up instead of being trapped by her body.

“You’re stuck with me,” she panted.

Grahame relished the bite of her fingernails.

Tunic around her waist, he held her against him once again so the cheeks of her ass could feel the hard press of his member between them.

Not wanting to give her any leverage, he bracketed her throat with his hand again, grinding the words they both needed to hear into her ear.

“We are stuck with each other. You call me a pretender, and yet I’ve never once acted with you.

You are the only person who sees through me, as if to see past your reflection on a river’s surface.

I am the murky bottom. Greedy and ambitious, I may be, but that is only because I knew you’d have nothing less.

I am your lord, Adara. But you’re the one that forged me.

We have always been each other’s. We are one and the same. ”

Grahame let her go, giving her a little shove toward the mattress. Adara threw her hands out in front of her to catch herself. She ended up on all fours, her backside in the air. Grahame didn’t hesitate. He gripped her hips and lined himself up with her weeping slit.

“We are,” she said, her voice full of command.

Grahame drove himself into her.

A quickly stifled gasp was all Adara uttered.

Grahame was glad for it. She was soaked for him, angry in kind, and she pushed back against him as he withdrew.

It made Grahame thrust harder the next time, then the next.

Her fingers strangled the bedclothes while he created bruises on her hips with the force of his hold.

There was a perverse satisfaction knowing she’d marked him with her claws, and he was marking her with his grip.

The earl could refuse the marriage. Could kill him outright. The man could force Adara into a life where she would rather die than live, but he couldn’t take away the time they’d had together. The way they molded each other. She was his and he was hers.

Always.

With a vicious curse, Adara seized, clenching around him until Grahame spilled inside her. Fury, anguish, worry, lust burned through him, eating away at any sort of life that didn’t include her in it.

When he’d finished, he skimmed an arm up her front to pull her back to his chest. She turned her head, a small grin playing on her lips.

“I love you,” she whispered.

The words were so unexpected, so untethered, Grahame couldn’t help the full-blown smile that broke across his face. His reaction made Adara laugh, a striking, clear sound that impressed itself upon Grahame’s soul.

“I love you,” he answered, kissing her.

Though their love-making had been fierce and furious, the kiss was gentle and drawn out, made of all the things they wished for the other.

When they parted, Adara eased away from Grahame’s body with a slowness that alluded to the next day’s discomfort.

He fetched a cloth and water, cleaned her then himself and settled with her in the bed.

“I am sorry for my disbelief,” she said, her eyes eating him up the way he loved. “I was taught by my mother never to believe anything that was too good. As a child, she would remind me to hold myself apart, for it was the best way to protect oneself.”

Grahame settled deeper into the slim bed, offering his arm as a pillow. Adara sank into his side. He remained quiet so she could continue.

“I grew to think I deserved the way my father dismissed me, when Elvin harmed me. I know I told you to be callous. It is so easy for me to believe the worst because what else is there? You’ve only ever been too good,” she whispered.

Grahame’s heart swelled. He rolled to the side so he could better stare at her gorgeous face. Gently, he slid his hand to the dip in her waist.

“Say ‘I love you’ again, please,” he requested.

Adara buried herself in the crook of his shoulder, her warm breasts squishing against him. “I love you, Grahame Shepherd. In this life and every other.”

Each word filled his heart, strengthening his resolve. There was no telling what the next day would bring. And, despite Adara’s reservations, he would lie, cheat, and steal from her father and anyone else who stood in their way if it meant they would remain together.