Lord of Fire,Lady of Ice(35)

She dared a step forward and reached out a tentative hand for him to shake in agreement. Brant eyed her hand before turning back to her eager expression. Throwing back his head, he laughed, unable to help himself. The sound echoed off the walls, loud and hard and crude even to his own ears. But what else could he do?

Her expression iced over at the sound. When he started to settle, his eyes tearing with merriment, she jerked her suspended hand away. Giving her a devilish grin, he was pleased when she stared at his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from licking his lips. She gasped, again turning her eyes away.

“It will not work, this plan. What if you are not pregnant after one time?” With deliberate slowness, Brant let his gaze caress her. A blush stained her cheeks and he knew she didn’t understand his attentions. And, in not understanding, she had no defenses to fight them. He placed one palm on the wall and the other on the edge of the loom.

“Would you deny the facts? Is there to be no honesty in you to me, yet I am expected to speak only in truths? At least Stuart is man enough to tell me the truth about the marriage bed. That it only needs be done once and not the numerous times most husbands would have their wives believe.” She closed her eyes briefly and softened her tone. “I will not tell the man secret to anyone. I will let you lie and say you had your fill of me. Tell your men I demanded too much of your attentions and you grew tired of me, for surely I’m not pleasing to your temperament. It’s all right. You can get me with child that one time. Though I do request you drug me if you have the knowledge to do so. I would prefer to not remember it.”

Brant laughed again. The woman was actually asking him to take her while she was lethargic. The thought of bedding a lifeless maiden gave him little pleasure. “It’s not the truth your cousin speaks, lady wife.”

“Stuart would not lie to me. He cares for me. He is my only family.”

“Nay, I am now your only family.” Brant moved his hand to gently cup her face, forcing himself to be patient. For a brief, tempting moment, he thought about taking her there in the sewing chamber, willing or no, as was his right. His body urged him to do so, painfully aware of all he denied it. Trying to ignore the insistence of his straining arousal, he took a deep breath. She tried to push his hand away, but he caught her wrist and forced it to the wall by her head. “Nay, I will touch you when and where I want. The sooner you learn to accept my handling, the better it will be for you. Of that I can promise.”



Della’s ire only hid the shameful tears that welled inside. Desire made its way into her and she hated the betrayal of her body. She couldn’t believe Stuart would lie to her about the marriage bed. It was the one truth to which she had clung. Stuart had told her the marriage bed would not be pleasant, reluctantly confirming her worst childhood fears. He had no reason to lie.

Brant could never guess the pain she felt at his sexual promises. Why couldn’t he leave her be? She didn’t want to feel anything for him, didn’t want the confusion of his nearness. Her eyes met his entrancing blue ones and her limbs tingled with the heat of his nearness.

“Why do you lie to me?” she whispered.

“Are you so misled, Della, that you think a man can control how a woman gets with child? Lovemaking is not an exact art. Oft times it takes many wonderful attempts to beget an heir and more so is done for pleasure with no thought of begetting heirs.” Brant’s words washed over her numbed brain and she was entranced by the movements of his lips. She jolted as his finger made a simmering trail down her arm to her wrist. “So you see, I cannot leave immediately after bedding you to travel the world thrice in comfort.”

She didn’t resist as he lifted her hand above her head to join her wrists together. All traces of anger seemed to fade from him to be replaced by something she didn’t recognize. Her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened against the thin material of her dress, the peaks reaching out to him in deprivation. Heat worked its way over her and she tried unsuccessfully not to look at him.

The sewing chamber darkened as the torch on the wall sputtered. Light danced along his strong face. Relentless, his gaze pierced into her. She smelled the fresh scent of mint on his breath as he leaned closer.

“I have seen much of the world, Della, and it is tiresome to me. I long for a home to live in and a warm bed to go to each night. I’m weary of fighting and of wars. And when I have children, I wish to see them grow and play. I wish for peace, for I have seen much of death.”

“Mayhap, you could reside at Blackwell. We could have it rebuilt any way you wished.” The words were a last defense. His nearness confused her, until she ached to touch him. She would have if he hadn’t trapped her arms over her head. “There is no reason why we must reside together. Blackwell is close enough that you could see your child when you wanted. All you will have to do is send for him and he will come to you. There will be no reason for you to see me, except, mayhap, once a year to go over the accounting of the land. You could keep a mistress there to warm your bed. I would not mind it. I would not care if people gossiped. It could work.”