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Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan) Page 7
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“Are you with child?” he asked. He’d been thinking of how he might get the answer from her the whole time she’d been sleeping. He wasn’t one for mincing words. Direct was best.
She blinked, and her mouth fell open in surprise.
“It’s fine if you are. I’d understand. You were married directly prior to our…wedding.” He swallowed and laid out his feelings so she wouldn’t be afraid. “I’ll be a father to your child, Mari. I’ll raise and protect the babe as if it were my own blood. Give them my name.”
“Why do you think I’m with child?”
“I’ve seen Kenna have dizzy spells when she was pregnant in the past. Though I never saw her lose her breath like you did. Mostly she just turns green and runs for the nearest door.”
“I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m not with child. I was… I was afraid.”
“Of what?” He looked around, genuinely puzzled. Then it dawned on him.
She glanced away, and he allowed her escape, fearing he didn’t want to hear her answer.
“I thought perhaps you were angry with me and had brought me out here to punish me. You’re so large, and a warrior. I don’t think I’d survive it.”
It took a few seconds for him to put her words together into some form of sense. Even then he was in shock at the absurdity.
“You think…” He paused to clear the anger from his voice. It wouldn’t do to be mad at her while explaining how wrong she was about his being angry. “You think I would bring you out here and beat you?”
She bit her lip and shook her head.
Maybe he had misunderstood after all. He hoped so.
“You don’t understand,” she finally said.
“Please explain it to me so I can understand.”
“I thought maybe you were upset. You looked upset when you came for me in the kitchens.”
He huffed out a breath and shook his head. “I dinna like seeing you working in the kitchens. You’d been a duchess before, and my station doesn’t allow you many luxuries. I was upset with myself for not being able to give you a life fit for someone like you. I wasn’t angry with you, I swear it.”
She blinked at him. “I think I might have known that in my heart, but then my mind took the small thread of fear and added on to it, piecing together memories and other fears until it got so out of control I could no longer breathe. It’s happened before. I can’t seem to stop it when it starts. Even though I see now how unrealistic my thoughts were, at the time they seemed utterly possible and imminent.”
He brushed her hair back and pulled her against him, thinking over what she’d shared. What terrible hell did she live in? And how could he help her out of it? Her demons weren’t ones he could slay with his sword.
“Do you trust that I’m a man of my word, Mari?” he asked, pulling away so he could look at her.
She nodded and offered a soft “Yes.”
“I’ll not promise that I’ll never be angry with ye. That seems the way of husbands and wives at times. But I can assure you, when I’m mad at you, you’ll know it. I’m not the kind of man to let things dwell. I speak my mind right then. But it will only be speaking—occasionally, I may have cause to bluster a bit, but it will only be words. It will never be fists or anything physical.”
She nodded again but didn’t look convinced.
“By the saints, I swear I’ll never lure you off to the woods to punish ye. We might go to our room to have words, but that would be the extent of it. Words. And I’ll hear yours as well. I’m certain you’ll have plenty to yell at me about. I’m not the most observant man and know little of women.”
Again she nodded in agreement, even though it was clear she didn’t truly believe him.
He placed his forehead against hers, making a connection. “These are things you’ll learn about me in time. I only ask that you don’t make me out to be a monster until you have reason to. Is that fair?”
“Yes. I’ll try to remember.”
“That’s something, I guess.” He barely got the words out before a raindrop landed on her cheek. Another fell on his head and another on his arm. “It appears our adventure is over for the day. Let’s get back to the castle before we’re drenched.”
He took her hand and they ran for the horses. He lifted her into the saddle and they made haste back to Dunardry. After they returned, they were each pulled into their own duties the rest of the day.
That evening at the meal they stole glances at each other. Each time he caught her looking at him he offered a smile, and she smiled back before looking away. At times he thought she was flirting with him, but then he remembered the events of the morning and held back on his plans to woo her.
She was afraid of him.
He’d have to be mindful of his next move so as not to scare her. He would give her space and time to settle with him. There would be time for more once she was comfortable.
He shifted as his cock hardened from looking upon her sweet lips. His body craved hers, but he would not claim her tonight. Or any other night.
Not until she wanted him.
He frowned at his food and wondered how he might speed the process along.
Chapter Ten
After the evening meal, Kenna asked Mari to assist her with finishing a gown in her solar. Since it was a gown meant for Mari, she couldn’t very well refuse, though she had enjoyed the playful glances with her husband across the table and would have liked to spend time with him.
When Cameron smiled at her, it wasn’t fear that made her stomach twist. It was something else. Something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Not since she’d flirted with the groom’s son in her father’s stables.
With distance between her and Cameron, and people all about, it was easier to feel safe with him. Easier to smile and tease him with coy looks. Especially when he offered her his own smiles and smoldering glances.
“What do you think?” Kenna asked, holding up the gown.
Mari smiled indulgently. “It’s beautiful.”
“You lie.” Kenna sniffed. “Embroidery is still a skill I have yet to master.”
“You have mastered many others. This one is of no matter.”
“Do you say that to challenge me? You ken I hate being bad at anything.”
Mari shook her head. She found it ridiculous that Kenna worried over such things. Though she remembered how relentless their stepmother had been in pointing out Kenna’s faults.
“You are an amazing woman, sister,” Mari said with a grin. “And I daresay your husband doesn’t give a fig about the lack of embroidery on his linens. It’s clear he only cares that you’re lying on them.”
They giggled together as they had when they were girls.
Kenna shook her head. “It’s strange that I still worry over it. I know how Lach feels about me. But I still try hard to make sure he has no regrets over our marriage.”
“It’s a waste of your energy. The man is beyond any thought of regret. It’s quite obvious how much he loves you, and I’ve only been here a short time.”
“We both know it’s one thing to tell ourselves something, and another to know it in our hearts as truth.”
Mari nodded sadly. She hadn’t told Kenna about what happened earlier, when she’d lost herself in fear, but it seemed her sister understood.
“Try it on and see how it fits,” Kenna demanded, changing the subject.
“Might I do it in the morning? I fear if I go to my room and take off my gown, I may collapse in my bed and not return for the entertainment.”
“Very well.” Kenna smiled. “Let’s go join our husbands so they don’t forget about us,” she joked. Mari knew Kenna was anxious to get back to Lachlan.
When they returned to the hall, the music had started. Turning to join the crowd, she heard a giggle and looked around to see Roddy and Douglas l
aughing as they crawled over an imposing figure.
Cameron looked a sight with little boys climbing and hanging from his large limbs. In one hand he clasped a rag where a small dog growled in an effort to pull it from his grip.
“They love him. He is so patient with them. Even better, he tires them out so they sleep through the night.” Kenna laughed.
Watching her husband playing with small children and a little dog brought shame to heat Mari’s cheeks. Her earlier breakdown seemed so silly now. She’d seen the hurt on his face when she confirmed her fear of him. It wasn’t right that he be blamed for the crimes of another man.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much say in the matter when her mind took over. Fear was fear, and she’d not yet found a way to conquer it.
She went with Kenna but spent the evening watching her husband with the boys. The way he laughed with them brought a smile to her lips. Even when he had to scold Douglas for tugging at the dog’s ears, Cameron was gentle and offered the lad a hug afterward.
He was a good man. A tender, compassionate man. A safe man.
She would tell herself this over and over, until her mind and her heart accepted it as truth.
When the music was over, she headed for the stairs, glad the day was done. Cameron and the boys were gone, but she found them upstairs where he was tucking them into their bed. Brutus the dog made a circle and folded himself onto the rug at the foot of the bed.
“Are you going to bed?” he asked when he saw her watching.
“Yes. Unless you needed something.”
“Nay. Go on. I’ll see you soon.”
Soon. She swallowed and wrestled with her feelings of anticipation, excitement, and dread. Inside their room, she closed her eyes and let out a breath.
“It will be fine. Stop being a goose,” she told herself.
She was still brushing out her hair when he came into their room. She hadn’t had time to get into bed. Instead, she stood nervously before the fire in nothing but her shift. While she’d been waiting for him to arrive, in her mind she’d played through ways of enticing him to bed.
Unfortunately, what she knew of seduction wouldn’t have filled the tip of a thimble. Now that he was here, those few ideas she’d been considering fled in a flood of anxiety. She wasn’t brave enough to try tempting him, even if she knew how to do such a thing.
She crossed her arms to cover the peaks of her nipples, certain they showed through the thin fabric. Upon seeing him, her nipples had tightened all on their own.
He closed the chamber door and stood there gazing at her, his mouth slightly open. His hand hovered in midair as if he’d been frozen. Only his eyes moved, starting at her bare feet and rising slowly to her loose hair.
He swallowed and took a step closer, then another, until he was standing directly in front of her. His chest pressed up against her crossed arms. She had no choice but to drop her protective stance.
“I’m sorry I didn’t knock. I interrupted you.” He didn’t look the least bit sorry as he studied her face, his gaze settling on her lips.
Her tongue darted out to moisten them, and his pupils flared.
“Are you?” she asked coyly, remembering her training on how to flirt. “Sorry?”
“No. Not even a wee bit,” he admitted and shook his head. A slow, mischievous smile took over his handsome face. “In fact, I’m planning to be here earlier and earlier each night, to be sure to catch you just like this.” He laughed, and she laughed with him.
“Soon we would be going to bed at noon,” she suggested.
“I don’t think I would mind that overmuch.” His smile faded away again.
The heat sizzled between them, drawing her in.
He is kind. He is tender. He will not hurt me. She repeated the words like an oath, praying her body and mind would be at peace with what she both hoped and feared would happen next.
As he leaned down, she went up on her tiptoes to meet him. His lips touched hers with a tenderness she’d never known but somehow expected from this man. Everything about him—despite his hard muscles and intimidating size—was tenderness incarnate.
His large hand cradled the back of her head as he tilted her so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue danced with hers, and she reached out to steady herself. Her hands gripped his shirt. His other arm wrapped around her waist, offering support for her wobbly legs.
This was heaven. This was how it was supposed to be between a husband and a wife. Pleasure and softness. Hazy rapture and warm smiles.
When he pulled her up into his arms, she gasped with surprise and an unexpected flood of happiness. He set her on the bed and took a step back. Then he reached for the buckle of his weapons belt. She gasped again, though not with happiness. But innate fear.
A memory assaulted her of another man removing his belt with dreadful purpose.
Cameron stepped away and raised his hands. “It’s fine, lass. I mean ye no harm.”
She knew that, but she realized she’d instinctively pulled back and was crouched on the other side of the bed, ready to escape. All the glorious fogginess from a moment ago lifted, and they were just two people—no, two strangers in a room together.
“I’m sorry,” she said and slipped under the blankets. Her heart and her breath were still heaving. Please, not again.
“Maybe I should stay on the floor tonight,” he offered, and didn’t give her a chance to argue before grabbing a blanket and doing just that.
She’d run him off with her fit. What must he think?
She touched her lips where they still sizzled from his kiss. She needed to get over this panic so she could be with Cameron properly.
Before he gave up on her completely.
…
Bloody hell, Cam thought as he tossed and turned for possibly the hundredth time that night. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the hard floor that made him irritable. It was that he’d taken another step backward with Mari.
She’d recoiled in fear because he’d taken things too far. He’d told himself earlier to go slow. But then he’d seen her in her shift, the light behind her showcasing her shadowed perfection through the thin fabric.
There was no such thing as slow after that. He’d wanted her and had stupidly rushed to take what he’d wanted.
He’d asked her to trust him, but now he didn’t think he could trust himself. What kind of message was he sending her? She’d enjoyed their kiss, he could tell that much. But he should have given her time to adjust to the idea before pressing for more.
It must have been two hours since he’d kissed her, yet he could still taste her on his tongue. That memory of her lips made him want another kiss. But she was across the room asleep.
Except…
He heard a small sound. A sniff. Then a whimper. Was she having a bad dream? Silently, as he was trained to move, he rose and went to the bed. She was lying on her side with her eyes closed and tears on her cheeks.
“Mari? Wake up, lass. It’s another dream.”
Her eyes opened immediately, unlike the last time when he’d had to force her awake. She sat up and wiped her eyes. It didn’t seem she’d been asleep. Which meant he, not her dreams, had caused her tears.
“I apologize for my behavior earlier. When I reacted—” she started.
He didn’t allow her to finish. “You have nothing to be sorry for, lass. You did nothing wrong. It was me. I need to be more patient. I’ll not come to you again, not until you no longer fear my touch.”
He felt the heat of shame on his cheeks and was glad for the darkness. She owed him nothing. He hated that she was crying because of something that had happened between them.
“It’s not you or your touch I fear,” she said softly. “It’s just…certain things make me remember unpleasant incidents, and it taints what is happening between us.”
Hadn
’t he just been berating himself for knowing one thing and doing another? He knew he needed to go slowly, and yet he’d practically launched himself at her for wanting her so badly.
“I understand. I sometimes have…bad memories too.”
“You do?” she asked as he wiped away her tears. “How did you get over them?”
“Well, I can’t say I’ve figured it out myself yet.” He’d not share the example of his biggest failure tonight. Instead, he decided to tell her of another way his mind and body had not been aligned. “After a battle or raid, I think about it for a long time. Still react, sometimes. I know I’m not in danger anymore, but my body still has the need to protect and defend.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s it. I wonder how long it will be before I’m in control.”
“I canna say for sure. But mayhap it will be easier if we try touching.”
Her eyes went wide, and he shook his head at himself.
“Holding hands,” he amended. “While we sleep. I think if we get over the shock of it, we’ll get used to one another. Like when you first jump into the loch, it’s terrible cold. But your skin becomes accustomed to it and then it’s not so bad.”
He should have left the fancy words to the poets. That was the most horrid thing he’d ever said to woo a lass.
“So, touching me is a bad thing for you?” Her brows pulled together, and he winced.
“No, not at all. Forget that part.” The only thing jumping into a freezing loch had to do with moving slow with Mari was that both had his cods shriveled up. “Can I stay in bed with you?”
“Yes.” She gave a nod that was more determination than enjoyment, but he’d take it if it meant sleeping in bed next to his wife rather than the floor.
He settled in next to her and reached for her hand. He gave it a squeeze and looked over at her even though he couldn’t see in the dark room.
“That’s not so bad, right?” he asked.
“No. It’s not bad at all. It’s nice.”
“Good. See? It’s the first step to feeling comfortable with one another.”