Page 25 of Highland Seduction

But of course, it did. Tor reached across the table so suddenly, Ainsley froze. His hand covered hers, still holding a spoon inside it.

“I tell ye true, Ainsley. ’Tis a rumor only. I’ve been with women, aye, but no more than any other man.” He let go of her hand. “Though more than most maidens.”

“Like me.”

“Like ye.”

Ainsley finished her ale and Tor poured another. “’Tis the way of things, I suppose. And yet . . .”

He would think her mad.

“Go on,” Tor encouraged.

“When I was found in the woods, I fell into my brother’s arms. Sobbing, I told him I’d not miss another lesson again, but that I would learn to defend myself. ’Twas my own fault, of course, that I’d gotten lost. But Broden had skills I did no’ that would have prevented it.”

“We differ in many ways, lass.”

“Aye,” she admitted. “But in some, ’tis no’ a necessary difference. I’ve learned to wield a dagger, and even a sword, though no’ very well. I’ve learned many things since that day, because I insisted upon them.” She stopped, uncertain why she had told him that. Ainsley had never intended to finish her thought.

But Tor understood anyway. “Ye’ve learned much, control yer life more than many women, but have no’ been with a man,” he guessed.

Ainsley gave her attention to the stew. She no longer wanted to eat it, but neither did she wish to ensure the mortification of looking across the table. What had she been thinking to begin this conversation? She looked out into the dark street, the inn’s lantern illuminating only a small portion of it.

When she finally turned back to him, Ainsley blurted out the rest of it. What did it matter? When their marriage was annulled, she’d see Tor MacRob precisely as many times as she had before Broden and Catlin’s wedding.

Never.

“I’ve no’ been kissed by a man before, even.”

When she tried to turn back to her stew, Tor stopped her. “Look at me, Ainsley.” She did. “Ye’ve naught to be ashamed of. Though I am surprised to hear it. Even the most innocent of maids have stolen kisses. A woman as beautiful as ye . . . ’tis difficult to believe none have tried before.”

A woman as beautiful as ye.

Ainsley had been called as much many, many times. And aye, some had tried to steal a kiss from her. “There was one I wished to kiss,” she admitted, “but Broden had him sent from Castle Shaw before such a thing could happen.”

“Because ye wished to kiss the man?”

When Tor’s eyes widened that way, she could see the green clearly. Against the brown of his brows and tousled hair, she knew precisely who she wanted to kiss in this moment. Despite the fact that he was a MacRob. And her husband. Which meant Tor was the very last person she could kiss.

“Because, after what happened with Rhona, my brother was no’ taking chances.” Ainsley belatedly remembered. “Our truce. My apologies, but ’tis difficult no’ to discuss my family.”

“No apologies necessary, lass.” Tor raised his mug. “A toast instead?”

Confused, she raised her mug. “A toast to . . . ?”

His slow, sensual smile made her regret asking. “To yer first kiss, wife.”

Surely he did not mean . . . but as Tor drank his ale, his eyes did not leave her. She brought the mug to her lips, saying naught. What was there to say?

Nay? We’ll no’ be kissing this eve? My sister has warned me many times that one intimacy can lead quite quickly to another? We cannae allow that to happen.

He knew all of this, certainly. And still, he wished to kiss her.

Ainsley swallowed hard.

God save her soul, she wanted it too.

Chapter 14