In Bed With A Stranger(36)

"Bythe, I've need o' a bath and I dinnae care if it's cold as a spinster."

"Aye, my lord. It will be chilly, the fires are low." She wrung her hands, looking about nervously.

"No matter, 'tis no reason to fret. Send the water."

One of the maids scurried into the bath room with a candle. She touched  the flame to the wicks of the candles mounted on the walls, bringing  them to life. With a hasty lowering of her head, she departed. Water  began splashing down the trough and into the tub. It gurgled, making a  happy sound, and Brodick shed his clothing, grateful to be back in  civilized surroundings. He was thirty-four years old and happy to  relinquish the desire to ride through the night to the younger men who  still considered it gallant.

He preferred his home.

Sitting down in the tub, he reached for the soap. It was a common bar,  milled on his own land without any feminine perfume scents added. There  was only a scent of beeswax. He applied it to his skin with brisk  strokes, his thoughts centered on completing his task so he might get on  with what he was truly craving.

His bed with his wife in it.

He was slightly disappointed that she had not come down to greet him,  but shrugged it off. Her chamber was above floors and she was most  likely still slumbering away, unaware that he'd returned. He suddenly  understood why his father had the bells rung when he entered the  courtyard.

It suddenly seemed like a fine tradition.

"Toweling, my lord."

Ginny spoke from the doorway, her head looking at the floor. She kept  her sight on the hem of her skirt as she entered and left the neat linen  on a stool.

"If my wife awakes, send her to me."

The maid swallowed roughly. Brodick froze, turning his attention to the  girl, but she was scurrying out of the room as if he were Satan. He  frowned, but dismissed the maid. The only woman he had to struggle to  understand was his wife.

Now that was a task he was looking forward to.



His wife's chamber was too cold. Brodick frowned, his wet hair feeling  the chill when he entered it. There wasn't a speck of light from  anywhere inside the chamber. His suspicions rose as he cast a look at  the fireplace. There was nothing there; even the scent of smoke was  missing from the room telling him that a fire had not been burning for  many days, possibly weeks. The curtains on the windows were open as  well. They should have been drawn at night to keep the fire heat from  seeping past the glass. But having them open allowed moonlight and light  from the walls to penetrate into the dark room. He'd expect such if a  room was unoccupied.

Icy fingers closed around his heart. It was the sort of feeling he'd  only experienced a few times in his life. Dread choked him as he moved  toward the bed, trying to see through the blackness. The bed curtains  were drawn all the way around the bed, only a mere few inches open at  the foot of the bed. Inside, there was naught but darkness.         

     



 

Had she fled back to her father?

Jerking one curtain aside, he reached into the bed and found a small  lump. His breath expelled from his lungs in a rush of relief. His knees  actually wobbled and he sat down heavily on the foot of the bed. His  wife moved, stirring as her bed was rocked.

"What does the mistress require?"

His wife looked at the bed curtains, confusion marring her face. Her words didn't make sense.

"Don't ye mean the queen? When I attended yer English court, I dinnae recall her ladies calling her mistress."

"My lord?"

Anne stared at the large shape and trembled. Joy rushed through her. She  reached out to touch him, needing the reassurance of feeling his warm  skin. It felt as if it had been forever since he left.

"I believe I instructed ye to call me Brodick when in our bed."

He moved before her fingers made contact with him. The bed rocked,  sending the curtains swaying like they were on a ship at sea. His large  form looked huge in the darkness but his voice had been tender and  welcoming. She sighed when his arms wrapped around her, hauling her up  against him in a solid embrace that made her shiver.

She had dreamed of his arms around her.

"Brodick." She lightly stroked his shoulders, shaking with happiness. He groaned softly.

"Say that again."

Tracing a path up his neck she toyed with the locks of his hair. It was wet and curling.

"Welcome home, Brodick"

His mouth sought hers, taking a firm kiss. She slid her hands back to  his shoulders. His lips pressed hers open, lingering over her mouth like  a fine whiskey. He didn't rush but tasted her gently.

"What are you sleeping in?"

Her fingers tried to hold him close but he pulled away to look at her.

"Are ye wearing that surcoat in bed?" His hands ran over her shoulders, trying to discover exactly what she was covered in.

"It keeps me warm when you are away."

His hands stopped investigating her clothing. He framed her face gently,  leaning back close until she felt his breath on her moist lips.

"Ah lass, ye'll turn my head with flattery like that." He opened the  surcoat, working the buttons quickly, even in the dark. He pushed the  garment over her shoulders, lifting her up to get at the tail of her  chemise.

"Ye've no need o' it now. I promise to keep ye very warm."

His kiss blocked out whatever she might have thought to reply. His large  body pressed her back into the bed. Anne reached for him, frantic to be  touched. The solitude of the last month felt like an eternity. Brodick  was warm and solid. Everything she craved.

She kissed him back. Her tongue boldly seeking his, his tongue tangling  deep inside her mouth, stroking and gliding against hers. Her hands  twisted in his hair, combing through the wet strands. Even that touch  flooded her with sweet sensation. Each breath she drew brought his scent  deep into her lungs, further confirming that she was no longer alone.

She wasn't cold either.

Her blood began heating, melting away the chill that had encased her.  The skin that had felt nothing but cold for so long suddenly flickered  with heat so intense it was like fever. Her feet slid along his calves,  their legs entwining. The flow of heat entered her belly, swirling into  her passage. One warm hand cupped a breast, firmly grasping it.

"I've missed ye." Husky and needy, his voice was pure delight. His thumb  brushed over the puckered point of her nipple. A soft grunt left his  lips.

"I think ye've missed me, too."

"I have."

He leaned down, boldly sucking her nipple into his mouth. The tip of his  tongue lashing against it over and over again. A soft moan escaped her  lips, her body falling back onto the bed to offer her breast to his  lips. He plumped it in his hand, pushing the nipple up further. With a  soft pop he pulled his lips free, his breath blowing across the wet  skin. Goose bumps spread over the delicate skin as she shivered.

"Say my name, lass. I've longed to hear it in my dreams."

She'd say anything as long as he'd resume sucking her nipple.

"Brodick."

His breath roughened. "Again."

The fingers on her breast released the globe to trail down the center of her body.         

     



 

"Welcome home, Brodick."

"Aye, ye're that, a welcoming thing to find waiting in my bed."

His fingers found the curls at the top of her sex. Her back arched, sensation drawing her muscles tight with anticipation.

"I wonder though. Just how welcoming ye're feeling."

One large finger parted her slit, sliding across her clitoris. A soft  gasp crossed her lips as sensation jolted through her. It was wild and  strong, spiking up into her passage, her sheath becoming needy and  demanding.

"Warm, aye, but still not as hot as I know ye can be."

He was teasing her but she did not care. His finger stroked her  clitoris, rubbing the little point of pleasure with slow circular  motions. Heat raged inside her, growing hotter with each second. Her  thighs parted further, the folds of her slit opening. He ran his finger  down the plump lips to the opening of her body, gently teasing it all  the way around before dipping into her sheath just a tiny amount. A  harsh cry left her lips as the muscles of her passage tried to clasp  that fingertip. She felt so empty it hurt.

"Now that's much hotter. I must have found the right coals to stoke."  His finger penetrated deeply, gently sliding over the needy walls of her  sheath. Her hips bucked, lifting towards him. Her body was slick,  taking his finger easily.

"A man could nae ask for a warmer welcome than that."

His teasing was driving her insane. He felt too far away. She wanted to  feel his body pressing down on top of hers, every bit of her skin in  contact with his.

"Come to me, lover."

Her voice sounded foreign, sultry. Holding her arms open, she waited for him to answer her.

"Aye."

Demand edged his voice. His finger left her body before he rolled over  her. She clasped her thighs around his hips, spreading wide for him. His  elbow took most of his weight, pressing against the mattress near her  head.