Page 39 of Highland Seduction

She’d not say it aloud. “Nay. Just to finish this stew before we leave.”

He laughed, picking up his own spoon once again. “If ye wish to kiss me, Ainsley, do it. If ye wish for me to kiss ye, ask.”

“Kiss.” She laughed, a hollow sound that fooled no one. “I was just considering how amusing ye appear when ye’re deep in thought.”

“Amusing?” He crossed his eyes, and she laughed again. “That, my love, is amusing.”

He did the thing with his lips again, though this time not as pronounced. Instead, he pursed them ever so slightly while his eyes narrowed seductively. The change in his expression was almost startling. But there was no doubt, his expression clearly invited Ainsley to do the thing she desperately wanted to do.

She could not. When they were alone, however? She would kiss him then. And perhaps, if she could be so bold, would ask him the question that had been on her mind each eve since the bath.

Could we do more than simply kiss?

A dangerous question, Ainsley knew, but one that she could no longer resist asking. Despite the consequences.

Chapter 22

She’d wanted to kiss him.

These past nights had been the most difficult since he and Ainsley were married. When he had decided to seduce his wife, Tor thought of his brother’s advice. Adair had been in love with a woman, one he’d planned to ask for her hand in marriage. A clan chief’s daughter and lovely woman, she had often teased Tor about his frequent dalliances, claiming that someday he would meet a woman who would make him wish to be with her alone. Tor hadn’t believed it, so he had only partially listened to his brother when he’d told him, “Ye may be a skilled lover, dear brother, but the true measure of yer worth, to a woman, lies in yer ability to know what she needs most.”

In true Tor fashion, he’d looked down at himself, prompting a laugh from his brother. “All men have a cock, Tor.”

“But no’ all know how to use it properly,” he’d said.

“True enough. But pleasure of such a sort is fleeting.”

He remembered the conversation easily as he and Ainsley walked through the streets of Berwick because it had been one of the last he and Adair had shared. Less than a sennight after it, Adair had been killed in a battle that should never have occurred. One that certainly should not have taken a man such as Adair.

The true measure of yer worth, to a woman, lies in yer ability to know what she needs most.

Tor had thought hard on those words and realized that, while he could likely have slid his hands up his wife’s shift as they lay in bed together—caressed her breasts, cradled her backside against him, held Ainsley above him as they made love, so many other scenarios that he’d dreamt of these past days—he’d only have been successful in seducing her body.

But Tor wanted more from her. She was no mere woman, but his wife.

And so he’d thought about what she needed most. ’Twas not protection, as she had that aplenty with her brother and clan. ’Twas not just love. Ainsley had that with Broden too, as well as Rhona and Annie. But, mayhap because of what had happened to her in those woods, Ainsley wished to do everything herself. When she wanted another bath, he found her helping the servants carrying buckets of hot water to her room. When they had questioned the innkeepers, one of whom would surely have dealt with Marta and Ian, she asked all of the questions. He found her capable and strong, without need of him in most situations.

And yet, everyone needed help at times. It was not weakness to ask for it, to accept it. That was what he wished for her to gain from him. And so he simply let her be. Tor did not ask for what she was unready to give. They shared meals together, traversed the town together. And though there were times she leaned into him, kissed him, and seemed to very much enjoy doing so, he had not pressed her into more.

Despite a longing that was beginning to overtake him. Now, for instance, when she smiled at him. Tor could not resist. And, he reasoned, she had wanted to kiss him earlier.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching for her hand.

Her fingers wrapped through his so naturally, it was as if they had been man and wife for many summers. Weaving down an alley, he looked for a proper spot and spied a furrier’s shop. Beside it was an empty building, likely for the storage of furs. When none appeared to be looking, he slipped a key from the pouch at his side and opened the lock.

“How did ye . . . what is this place?”

Tor quickly closed the door. Though dark, he could see shelves of fur, which confirmed his suspicions. He held up the key. “A skeleton, useful for warded locks.”

She looked at him as if he were mad. “Is this our destination, then?”

“Nay, it is no’.” He pulled her toward him. “But I could no’ wait.”

His mouth descended then, the kiss not gentle. His pent-up longing for her was beginning to consume him, if it hadn’t already. He could not get enough of her. Tor’s hands threaded through Ainsley’s hair at the base of her head. He brought her as close to him as possible, cursing his damned plan, nearly ready to plead with her to have him.

When it happened.

Ainsley slipped her hand between them.