She was roused from her thought by the sound of men's voices raised in jesting and laughter. The noise came nearer and footsteps sounded in the passage outside. Her heart leapt. The men were bringing her bridegroom. Suddenly the door was flung wide and he was carried in shoulder high. They deposited him at the foot of the bed with much lively banter and raucous laughter, ogling his bride the while.
Ban bore it all good-humouredly but had no intention of being kept longer from his wife. Thus his companions were firmly shown the door. It took several minutes before the last of them was ejected and the door shut and barred behind them. He turned then to Isabelle, letting his eyes drink in each detail. Apparently what they found was pleasing for his gaze warmed.
She remained quite still and waited, aware of nothing but the man. Her heart was thumping so hard she was certain he must hear it. His gaze never left her as he slowly divested himself of his clothing to reveal the hard-muscled body beneath. Her heart swelled with pride to think that the world knew that this man was her husband. She saw him smile and the blue eyes met and held hers.
'You are so beautiful.'
Then he reached for her, drawing her against him, his mouth on hers in a soft and lingering kiss. His hands slid beneath her hair, lifting its weight off her neck and shoulders, letting its silkiness slide through his fingers, breathing its subtle scent. His tongue ran lightly over her lower lip, suggestive, exciting. Of its own volition her mouth opened to him, her tongue flirting with his. She leaned closer and felt his arms tighten around her as the kiss grew more intimate. Yet for all that it was unhurried and infinitely persuasive sending warmth the length of her body.
He smiled. 'I've been dreaming about this all evening.'
'So have I.'
'Oh?' His lips gently nibbled her ear lobe. 'And what did you dream?'
Isabelle shivered at the touch. 'I am too embarrassed to tell you, my lord.'
'That sounds deeply shocking.' His tongue probed her ear.
The shiver became a tremor. 'Verging on sinful.'
'Better and better,' he murmured.
His fingers tugged gently at the fastening of her shift. It slid lower leaving her upper body naked. His tongue travelled down her neck to the peak of her breast. Her breath caught in her throat. Then she was kissing him back, her lips finding the warm hollow where neck met shoulder. She felt his hands on her waist, gentle and warm, and then the garment slipped over her hips and fell to the floor.
Ban's eyes darkened with passion. The moonlight lent her flesh a faint iridescence like soft pearl. For a moment or two he drank in her soft curves, feeling his body respond. And then her mouth travelled lower, pressing soft kisses to his neck and breast, setting every nerve alight. Unhurriedly she sank to her knees in front of him, her hands brushing his waist and hips. Ban almost forgot to breathe as the implication hit him. Isabelle glanced up, a seductive and naughty expression that caused his pulse to quicken. Her mouth closed round him, her tongue teasing gently. He drew in a deep breath as every muscle in his belly grew taut and the familiar coil of tension formed in his loins. The exquisite sucking motion increased until it seemed his blood had turned to flame. Heart hammering, he slid his fingers through her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, drawing her closer. Desire grew hotter and with it need. The tension tightened. With an effort he controlled it, letting the sensation build, carrying him to the brink. Somehow he found his voice.
'Enough, my sweet, or I'm going to lose control completely.'
She drew back a little. He raised her and led her two paces to the bed, tipping her backwards and then following her down, pinning her there with his weight. She would have twined her arms about his neck but he prevented it, clamping her wrists beneath his hands, his mouth on hers, searing, demanding. Excitement soared. He pressed her thighs apart and thrust deep and repeatedly, his need overtaking him now.
Isabelle burned, every fibre of her body resonating from the feel of him, revelling in this fierce possession. The heat in her pelvis expanded in a ripple of pleasure, every muscle taut with it. She moaned softly. The thrusts intensified, harder, utterly dominant now, pushing her relentlessly to the edge. Isabelle screamed, half-swooning, her body bucking beneath him, carried on a cresting wave of pleasure. He came quickly then, unable to help himself, crying out, his body shuddering with glorious sensation. Ruthless, he held her there, in thrall to his will. Isabelle closed her eyes in total surrender, loving every second of that delicious tyranny.
Eventually he drew back a little, breathing hard, caught between astonishment and delight.
'Dear heaven, that was beyond words.'
She thought that words couldn't begin to explain or describe what she felt then. Once she would never have dreamed such delight existed. How could one be so completely subject to a man's will and yet enjoy every moment of it? How was it possible to want a man so much? She smiled and gave him a sideways look. It was unwittingly sultry and vaguely mischievous. Ban saw it and grinned.
'Have a care, vixen. Such an expression can only elicit one kind of response.'
'Oh? And what is that, my lord?'
'I mean to show you presently.'
And he did, then and later.
* * *
When Isabelle eventually woke next day the sun was already high. She stretched luxuriously and then turned her head to find Ban propped on one elbow watching her. As her eyes met his he smiled.
'Good morrow, Wife.'
'Good morrow, Husband.' Idly she traced a finger along his arm, her gaze taking in the silvery lines of old scars on his skin. The finger traced the course of the livid gash along his ribs and then continued upwards to his shoulder, to the site of the arrow wound. Close to it was another familiar scar, a long deep cut that ran from shoulder to breast, evidently the result of a savage downward slash from a sword. It had healed cleanly but she had seen enough injuries to know it must have been life-threatening. She had never asked him about it but now curiosity stirred.
'How did you get this?'
'It is the legacy of a Norman blade.'
She looked thoughtful. 'From the time you told me about? At Heslingfield?'
'Aye. It would have done for me too, but for Iain and his men.'
'Then I owe him and them a debt of gratitude.'
'I also.'
Isabelle pressed closer and kissed the scar. Ban's arms tightened about her and she grinned, regarding him speculatively.
'The sun is high, Husband.'
The innocent tone brought forth an answering grin. 'So it is, Wife.'
'Is it not time we were up?'
'I already am.'
Glancing down she saw irrefutable proof of this and raised an eyebrow. 'Was last night not enough to sate your lust, my lord?'
'Not nearly enough, as you are going to discover.'
Before she had time to say more he rolled, pinning her beneath him. Then his lips were on hers in a long and deep embrace. She could feel his arousal against her thigh and the answering heat in her pelvis. Recollections of the previous night only intensified it and she returned his kiss with equal ardour.
Ban looked down into her face, his eyes dark with passion. 'You play with fire, my sweet.'
'Is that dangerous?'
'Most assuredly.'
'How so?'
He proceeded to show her and in considerable detail. The sun was much higher before they eventually left the sanctuary of the bedchamber.
* * *
Afterwards they walked together in the glen, following a steep track that led up the hillside. From the top the panorama of hills was spectacular and Isabelle surveyed it with awe.
'It's magnificent.'
'Isn't it?'
They sat down on a convenient rock to get their breath back. Although she continued to gaze at the view every fibre of her body was aware of the man beside her.
'I found it by chance,' he went on, 'not long after I came to Glengarron. I've come here often since, whenever I've needed a little time apart.'
She nodded. 'I can understand that.'
'I needed quite a lot at first, to try to come to terms with what had happened at Heslingfield. Iain knew that and he left me alone.'
'He reads men well. It's what makes him a good leader.'
He regarded her in surprise. 'That's a very astute observation.'
She smiled. 'Not mine, my father's.'
'Ah, but then he had many of the same qualities as Iain.'
'He didn't read Alistair Neil very well,' she replied. 'If he had he'd never have permitted the match to go ahead.'
'He told me that your husband was often from home. It seems to me that he must take his share of the blame if you did not conceive a child.'
'Even when he was there marital relations were...difficult.'
'Difficult? How?' As soon as he'd said it he winced inwardly. 'I beg your pardon. That was a very impertinent question.'