Page 13 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)

R oyce lowered his lips to hers, and Brianna stiffened.

He smiled, stroked the side of her face gently, and whispered, “This will not hurt.”

She looked at him with concern, her body relaxing as she brought her finger to tenderly touch his lip that was still red and swollen, though not nearly as bad as it had been. “It will hurt you.”

“It will be worth it.”

Her lips parted to speak, though words escaped her, and he took advantage of the moment. He gently captured her mouth with his.

She winced instead of him when she felt the swell of his lip; she thought how it must pain him even with gentle pressure. And then she began to sense the taste of him upon her own lips, and she suddenly found herself thinking only of his kiss.

He was in no rush and took his time; kissing the corners of her mouth, her upper lip, playfully nibbling at her lower lip, and then once again settling his mouth over hers.

This time he eased his tongue between her sensitive lips and gently introduced her to a kiss she had never known existed.

It stole her senses, raced her heart, and ignited her passion.

A passion she had never known she possessed.

Her sigh mixed with a moan when his lips finally left hers. While she certainly experienced pleasure, there was also regret that the kiss had ended much too soon.

She spoke truthfully to him. “I liked that.”

“So did I.”

She knew she was being much too direct and much too improper, but at the moment she did not care. “I do not mind if you wish to do it again sometime.”

He was just as direct. “What if I wish to do it often?”

She grinned. “I would look forward to every moment.”

He laughed softly. “I love your honesty.”

“I have no patience for deceit; I lived with it far too long.”

“I am honest with you in all we have discussed,” he assured her.

“I do not question your honesty.”

“Why? I am more a stranger to you than not.”

She rested her hand on his arm. ‘Tell me about yourself, and then you will no longer be a stranger.”

He was not ready to do that, and he doubted she was ready to hear the truth. “There is nothing to tell. I am a warrior. I fight for my clan and its honor.”

She stared at him for a brief moment. “Then you are an honorable man and a trustworthy one.”

‘Trustworthy enough to kiss you again?”

Her eyes rounded with excitement. “Most definitely.”

Her hands grasped his arms when he leaned over her to share another kiss. They lingered in the kiss, lost in a haze of tender passion, each wondering where this kiss would finally take them.

It took them both into a restless slumber. Where usually they slept with ease beside each other, this night they both were uneasy.

Brianna wanted to draw closer to him. It was an unrelenting ache and it startled her.

She wanted so badly to feel his body against hers.

She sighed as quietly as she could so not to disturb him.

Her hands simply itched to touch him, and in places she thought she would never want to touch a man again.

Instead she kept a distance from him. She thought it safer and much more proper, though she wondered if her fears made the decision for her.

She sighed again and turned away from him to rest on her side.

He in turn turned on his side and faced her back. He had given himself a sound silent thrashing since they had gone to bed. He had been a fool for kissing her the many times he had. Now he could think of nothing but touching her and kissing her in far more intimate places.

He was a man who took pride in controlling his emotions, his passions.

But at the moment he felt like a young lad who was eager to taste a woman for the first time.

That would not do. Not do at all. So he kept his thoughts neutral, fighting the urge to reach out and draw her to him, touch her, kiss h e r . . . and make love to her.

Damned, if he was not in trouble.

He moaned in frustration and turned his back to her back.

The night continued on, and it was not until they both fell into a deep slumber that they drifted into each other’s arms and settled there for the night.

* * *

The weather turned frigid, and Royce added extra logs to the fire. Still there was a chill to the cottage from the incessant wind outside. It seemed to creep through the cracks and crevices and slip past the fire’s warmth to torment the flesh.

Brianna had been up and about that morning with Royce’s help.

She was steady on her feet and suffered only minor pains and aches, though on occasion her lower back would trouble her.

Royce had told her that the bruise had been severe and was continuing to heal.

He insisted she not stand too long, for prolonged periods on her feet caused her back great discomfort.

She was, however, becoming bored with her confinement and lack of mobility. She simply wanted to do for herself without asking permission from Royce. He continued to make certain she did as he directed, and though she understood he did so from concern, she wanted her freedom returned to her.

After Arran had run off, she tasted freedom like she had never known before. She had been grateful to her brother, Ian, and her sister-in-law, Moira. They both had helped her through a difficult situation. And Moira had helped her to rebuild her self-esteem and gain her freedom.

Brianna had grown accustomed to making her own choices, and she intended to keep it that way.

She did not want to seem ungrateful, for Royce had done much for her, but she wished him to understand how she felt.

She sat in bed, the pillows tucked firmly behind her back, and the wool blankets tucked around her and his fur cloak thrown across her legs. Her blue shawl was wrapped around her shoulder for added warmth, and she had pinned her hair up with a comb.

She felt comfortable and confident when she turned her attention to where he sat at the table working on his arrows.

She was not prepared for the way her heart jumped at the sight of him.

The firelight reflected off his dark hair and cast a partial shadow across his face, concealing his scars and making him a man of mystery.

She thought the shadows not only concealed his face but his identity as well. The shadows kept him well hidden from prying eyes and perhaps from himself. Why, then, did she find this mystery man so very appealing?

Why did the shadows not disturb her? Why did she feel she understood him? And why did her heart pound so strongly in her chest when she gazed upon him?

“Did you need or want something, Brianna?”

“I would like to talk with you.”

He did not hesitate. He placed the arrow he worked on down on the table, wiped his hands with a clean cloth, and walked over to the bed.

She watched him. He moved with purpose, as though every step were orchestrated, every motion intentional. He was a man of confidence with a touch of arrogance, yet he possessed a tremendously caring heart.

He sat beside her on the bed. “I am at your service.”

She had not thought of him that way, but he was actually at her service. When she needed something, he was there. He looked after her every need, and here she was about to do what? Be selfish when he was being unselfish.

He wanted her to follow his orders because of her own foolishness. If she had not attempted to get out of bed on her own he would never have ordered her to obey him. And he really did not order her about and he gave her choices. He had asked her when she wished to do things.

He had never really forced her to do anything, not even kiss him.

“Deep in thought again?” he asked and leaned close to steal a faint kiss.

Her heart simply melted and she felt guilty for her selfish thoughts.

‘Tell me what troubles you, for the worry is clear on your face.”

She bit at her lower lip, no longer feeling the urge to discuss the matter with him and wondering what to say to him.

He smiled. “Thinking twice about what you wished to say?”

She loved his smile; even with his wounded lip and swollen eye his smile remained magical. His smile always lightened her heart and was contagious. It was a genuine smile, never forced, never deceitful. He smiled because he felt it in his heart.

“I have changed my mind; I do not need to talk with you.”

His laughter was a soft rumble. “You think now that I am not curious.”

“It is not important.”

“It was important enough only moments ago.”

She shrugged. “I have changed my mind.”

“I wish to know.” His smile remained, though his tone was firm.

“I do not find it necessary to discuss with you.”

“Have you lost your courage, then?”

She bristled at his accusation, though he said it in a teasing manner. “Nay, I told you I have changed my mind.”

“Then what will it matter if you tell me?”

She was annoyed at him for pressing the matter and annoyed at herself for having allowed the matter to trouble her. And would it really matter if she did discuss it with him, or was it her own stubbornness that caused her this worry?

“I am patient. I can sit here for the remainder of the day—and wait for an answer.”

She stubbornly remained silent.

He ran his lips over hers ever so lightly, sending a shiver through her. ‘Talk to me, Brianna, I will listen.”

His understanding often confused her, though it was more her own misunderstanding that brought on the confusion. She expected him to be like most men, and he was not like any man she had ever known.

She sighed in resignation. What else was there for her to do but talk with him? “I had wished to discuss my not having to ask your permission to move about and such. I am feeling much stronger and not so foolish.”

He chuckled beneath his breath.

She poked him in the arm and doubted he felt it, for it was a solid wall of muscle she hit.

He brushed his lips over hers once again. “It takes courage to admit the truth.”

He was right about that. It had taken her courage to admit the truth about her husband and marriage, and once done it had taken her courage to go on. Now was not the time to dismiss all she had gained.

“I know I had foolishly taken a chance that day I attempted to stand on my own. It has taken time for me to regain my strength, and once I did I never wanted to lose it again. So now I stubbornly hold on to it so that it can never be taken away from me.”

His expression turned serious, for he clearly understood what she was attempting to tell him and he admired her courage.

“You are stubborn, courageous, and beautiful, and I have no doubt that your strength will forever be with you. And if you feel well enough and” —he cleared his throat with a laugh— “no longer foolish, then I see no reason why you need my permission to do anything.”

She smiled like a child who had just received an astonishing present.

“I but ordered you to obey me out of fear, Brianna. When I saw you in pain on the floor, I was angry with me for leaving you unattended.”

“Nay, it was my fault,” she insisted, her hand going to gently cup the side of his face.

He loved when she touched him; her skin was so warm and soft. “It seems that we both are stubborn.”

“Then we will better understand each other.”

“I think we already understand much about each other, and I like what I understand,” he said, turning his face into her hand to kiss her palm.

She sighed as his tender kiss sent a ripple of pleasure cascading over her. “I am confused at times, for these emotions are not familiar to me.” She shook her head as though her own words added to her confusion. “I thought I had but now—” She shook her head again. “I do not know.”

He understood what she did not, but she needed to learn herself. He clearly understood how she felt, for he felt the same way, only he did not question it. He wished to experience every feeling, every moment, and every thought as they fell in love together.

“You do not need to know right now—simply feel.” He encouraged her with another kiss to her palm.

“I feel when you kiss me.” She sounded breathless.

“What do you feel?” He wanted her to speak of it, understand it, and respond.

“Your kiss washes over me, touches all of me, and makes me more sensitive to my senses.”

“Do you like the feeling?”

She giggled softly as though she did not wish to betray a secret. “Very much.”

“Would you like to know how I feel when I kiss you?”

She nodded with enthusiasm. “Aye, I very much would.”

He took her hand from his cheek and held it, bringing his mouth close to hers.

“When your lips touch mine, tingling warmth begins to spread through me. It starts slow, but as our lips mate the heat grows and rushes through me. My flesh grows hotter, my heart pounds, and I fight the ache to become intimate with you.”

She fell silent at his words but only for a moment, for she had felt as he did, and she wished to be as honest as he. “I am familiar with the feeling.”

He stared at her for several silent moments. “So this feeling is mutual?”

“Aye, it is.” Her answer was brief, for she was not certain how to respond or where her response would take them.

He ran his lips over hers once, twice, paused, then kissed her gently. He looked into her eyes and asked, “What, then, should we to do about it?”