Once Upon a Highland Christmas(26)

“I am an Irish village lass and glad that is so.” She tightened her grip on the drying cloth, keenly aware of her unclothed state. Her still-damp hair tumbling about her shoulders, in total disarray. The chill bumps that surely made her so unsightly.

All that, Grim had to see, even with only one candle flickering on the bed’s night table, and the room’s two poorly burning oil lamps.

She looked a fright, the pads of her fingers and toes even shriveled.

Had she truly believed she could linger in the tub until Grim strolled into the room, “surprising” her as she bathed, the sight of her bared breasts proving her a woman? More shameful still, a siren he’d pounce upon?

Had she been so wicked?

She had.

She’d even stayed in the tub until the lavender-scented water turned so cold she wouldn’t have wondered if ice skimmed the surface.

All in the hope of seducing Grim.

Now he was here. She wasn’t in the tub, but was as good as naked. And he wasn’t eyeing her in the appreciative way she’d hoped he’d do.

He was looking at her as if he stood on a field of battle and she was his foe.

“Perhaps you’re no’ a lady by the rights of law.” His frown was even darker now. “You heard what I think of that in Lady Rosalie’s room of stars, back in Duncreag’s Winter Tower. I’ve no’ changed my mind.”

“Yet you’re sorry we made this journey.” Stepping around him as gracefully as her soreness allowed, Breena started for the bed. She hoped to snatch the chin-to-ankle woolen night-robe Flora had given her because the room lacked a hearth, a small coal-burning brazier its only warmth.

“You wish I’d stayed at Duncreag.”

“I didnae say that.” Grim moved with lightning speed, his arm shooting out to seize her wrist, his iron grip drawing her back to him. “I said I erred and I did. My mistake was no’ bringing you with me, but allowing us to pretend we’re betrothed.”

“I see.” Breena felt heat sweep her, knew her face was flaming. “You’re embarrassed by—”

“I’m in love with you, is what I am!” He grasped her face, kissed her roughly, a deep, hot kiss that set her senses spinning. “I dinnae want to play your intended.” He tore his mouth from hers, his eyes blazing. “I’m no’ a man for foolery and deceit and ne’er will be. Truth is I want you for my own, as my wife.”

“You wish us to marry?” Breena could scarce believe it. She touched a shaky hand to her lips, could almost feel them tingling from his kiss. His words, his avowal of love, threatened to burst her heart. The chilly little room tilted, careening crazily around them as the floor seemed to rise and fall like the tides of the sea. Outside, the wind shrieked and the room was colder than ever. She could also hear one of the Munzie dogs barking.

But none of that felt real, not a bit mattered.

She only cared about the big, battle-hardened warrior looking at her with so much love and adoration, his soul stripped bare and laid before her. With one huge hand, he cupped her head, gazing deep into her eyes, almost desperately. He searched her face, intently.

“I have ne’er wanted anything more.” He seized her hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, her fingers. “Since you’ve told me there’s no one waiting for you in Donegal, I’ve nigh gone mad trying to find the right words to claim you. I pray you’ll no’ refuse me.”

“Oh, Grim…” Her voice broke, failing her.

He dropped to one knee before her, the gallant pose proving his purpose. “I’d make you mine, lass. I lost my heart to you the moment I set eyes upon you. I dinnae want us to assume a role. That was wrong and I’ll do it no more. I want to wed you this very night, if you’ll have me.”

“Oh, I will!” Breena dashed at her cheek, blinked back her tears. “I want nothing more. I’ve hoped for this moment so long. But…” She glanced about the small room with its simple bed and one oaken table, the nightstand that held the room’s only candle.

There wasn’t much more belowstairs either, certainly not a hidden monk or priest.

Surely Grim knew that.

So perhaps he was only speaking words that would comfort her once they’d lain together?

She didn’t want to think it, yet…

“What is it, sweet?” He stood, slipped a finger beneath her chin, lifting her face to his. “Have you changed your mind already? Will you no’ be having me then?”

Breena swallowed, not sure how to speak her concern. “We cannae be wed,” she finally blurted, rushing the words before embarrassment stayed her tongue. “There’s no one here but the Munzies and Sir Malcolm and his wife. I doubt they have the power to—”