“Stop it!” She cried out. Blood was still pouring from her arm and she felt shaky and faint. She looked at Tristan who was setting Leta on the ground. The little girl was actually grinning as she watched her brothers fight.
“Tristan, they’ll kill each other!” Bree said frantically.
He rolled his eyes. “They’ve been fighting like this since they were pups Bree. Come, we will take you to Avery while they work things out. You’re losing too much blood.”
She shook her head and backed away from him. “No! Please Tristan – stop them.”
He smiled at her. “Alright, little one.”
He clapped his hands sharply. “Enough!” When the two brothers ignored him, he waded between them. Although his sons were large and powerful, he grabbed each of them by the scruff of the neck and pulled them apart easily.
“I said enough.” He shook them lightly before letting them go.
James and Nicholas snarled at each other as they both climbed to their feet, and Tristan growled a warning. He frowned at James. “It was an accident James. Nicky would never purposely hurt her and you know it.”
“I told him not to teach her the sword!” James said hotly. “If he had done what I asked, this would never have happened. She is too little to learn the sword and we all know it. I will keep her safe.”
“Will you? Because your woman stands there bleeding while you fight like a spoiled little pup with your brother.” Tristan said dryly.
James froze and then strode towards Bree. She stumbled back as he approached her, but already his eyes were darkening to their usual brown and the beard had thinned to scruff.
He took his shirt off and wrapped it around her arm before picking her up gently. He started towards the house without speaking.
Blood was trickling from Nicholas’ nose, and bruising and swelling were starting to appear on his face. Tristan clapped him on the back. “Let’s find your mother Nicky. You can sit with her for a bit.”
* * *
James carried Bree through the house and to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them and Bree’s breath caught in her throat. At Avery’s and James’ insistence, she had been staying in James’ room. There were no empty rooms in the servant’s quarters, and James refused to let her move into any of the guest rooms.
“It is too cold in the guest rooms for you. You are to stay in my room.” He had spoken with a finality that she hadn’t dared argue with.
Just over a month ago he had carried her to this very room, and she had been terrified he would make her join him in his bed. Now her pulse was speeding up with anticipation, and she felt a twinge of disappointment when he carried her to the armchair by the fireplace instead of the bed.
He sat down with a soft grunt and gathered her against his body. She was facing away from him, and he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her slender body. He was careful not to touch her arm as she turned her face and tucked it into the curve of his neck. He was deliciously warm and she melted against him with a soft sigh.
Already the pain in her arm was gone, and the now-familiar fluttering was starting in her belly. His heart was thudding solidly against her back and she asked softly, “Are you hurt?”
He laughed. “No. My brother and I have had worse fights.”
“It was an accident. Nicky didn’t mean to hurt me.”
He shifted further back into the chair. “Aye, I know. But he should have been more careful.”
He cleared his throat and chose his words carefully. “I fear you are too small to learn the sword Bree.”
“I’m not.” She insisted. “I just need to practice more.”
“Why are you so anxious to learn how to use a sword?” He asked.
“It’s smart for a woman to know how to defend herself when she travels alone. It’s a long way to Vanden.”
He didn’t reply but his arms tightened around her and he tensed underneath her.
“Are you alright my lord?”
“Aye.” He grunted. One of his hands slid down and began to rub the top of her thigh through her pants while the other stroked her side lightly.
Deep within her belly, little flames of desire flickered into life. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the feel of his hands touching her, the warmth of his breath on her cheek and the hardness of his chest against her back.
It was useless. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted him to touch her the way he had touched her earlier. Her nipples hardened into twin points, and she squirmed as the ache between her thighs appeared.
“Does your arm still hurt?” He murmured.
It didn’t hurt but she was hit with sudden inspiration. She stared up at him and nodded shyly. “Aye my lord, it does. Perhaps –“ she paused, her face reddening, “perhaps a kiss would help.”