‘It seems to me, wife, that you do not demonstrate the proper respect due to your lord and master. I am minded to show you the error of your ways.’ He crooked a finger. ‘Come here.’
Ashlynn backed away. ‘I shall not.’
‘Is that right?’ He advanced slowly. ‘And I thought I’d cured you of disobedience.’
The tone was decidedly ambiguous. Withal there was an expression in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before but it was definitely not to be trusted.
‘Iain?’
She backed up a few more steps but still he came on. Then, without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Ashlynn gasped and tried to resist but in a matter of seconds was thrown over a broad shoulder. Ignoring the accompanying yells of protest he carried her across the courtyard and back to the tower. When eventually he set her down again they were in the great hall.
For a moment they faced each other, she half-laughing and half-panting as she tried to draw her breath, he drinking in every detail of her. Much dishevelled now, with snow still clinging to her cloak and melted drops in her hair, she seemed to glow for the cold had brought the colour to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with mischief yet. There was withal a most provocative smile on her lips. He drew her closer, looking down into her face with an expression that was both alarming and exciting together. Then his mouth was on hers and excitement superseded alarm and banished it as Ashlynn swayed against him, surrendering to the moment, knowing this was what she had wanted him to do. Her mouth opened beneath his and the kiss grew deeper and more intimate. Involuntarily her arms stole around his neck, her hand stroking the warm curve at the nape of his neck beneath the dark mane of hair.
The touch sent a thrill to the core of his being reawakening the hunger he had felt before, a hunger he once thought he could not know again. His hold tightened about her, lifting her off her feet, crushing her closer. He felt her mouth respond to his and tasted again its sweetness on his tongue, breathing the fresh clean scent of snow on her hair and clothes and beneath it the subtle erotic scent of the woman. He wanted her, here, now, wanted to lose himself in her completely…
A discreet cough alerted them to other presences and they surfaced, looking round to see Fergus and Dougal. Ashlynn’s cheeks turned a much deeper shade of pink. With a wry smile Iain relinquished his hold on his wife and watched her turn away toward the hearth. As the men approached Ashlynn drew in a deep breath to try and compose herself, to still the dangerous thumping of her heart. A covert glance at Iain revealed nothing of his inner thought and certainly none of the powerful emotion that gripped her now. His voice when he spoke to his men was calm, unforced. It recalled her to reality. What had occurred had begun as a bit of harmless fun and somehow gone further than either of them had intended. She smiled ruefully. It was certainly no more than that to him. Yet she had seen a side of him today that she had never dreamed existed, a side that was mischievous and playful and, she admitted, doubly attractive. When he laughed it lit his whole face and brought a warm gleam to his eyes. She realised then it was the first time she had ever seen him laugh like that.
‘If it pleases you, my lady, the new gowns are ready for your inspection.’
Ashlynn looked round to see Morag. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Your gowns, my lady?’
‘Of course, I’ll come directly.’
Throwing a swift glance at the men she left them to talk, and moved quietly to the stairs. She never saw the dark gaze that followed her every step of the way.
* * *
The finished gowns exceeded her expectations in every way. They had been beautifully made and she looked at them with delight. Morag was open-mouthed to see the array of garments: chemises, bliauts, shoes, even a cloak made of good wool cloth and lined with marten fur. It was far warmer than the old one and Ashlynn knew she would be glad of it as the winter tightened its grip. She spent the next hour trying each of the garments in turn under the critical eyes of the seamstress and her assistants. Ashlynn had no fault to find. Madame’s instinct for colour and style had been unerring. The gowns fitted her figure to perfection and she could see from the women’s expressions that they became her well. Would Iain approve? She hoped he would for in truth it had been a most generous gift—generous and unexpected. The timing couldn’t have been better either. Now she would have no cause to feel ashamed before the Yuletide guests.
In the meantime she gave orders for one of the big cedar-lined chests to be brought to her chambers. It would be ideal for the safe storage of the new gowns. Having organised that, she helped Morag lay the dresses within. The servant eyed her quizzically.