Page 56 of Highland Seduction

“And he said he may have, as the circumstance of our marriage was certainly forced. But that he would have needed to tread carefully. Angering the king was not ‘desirable,’ he said.”

“He may have aided in our annulment,” she murmured as Tor dropped the soap apurpose.

“Aye, lass.” His hand dipped between her legs. “I told him of our missing clansmen, and the bishop admitted ’twould be simpler to grant such a request had they been found.”

Slipping his fingers inside, Tor began to stroke his wife, determined now to bring her the pleasure she deserved. His wife had endured much. The splintering of her family. The loss of a feeling of indestructibility that comes with the knowledge that, at any given time, their lives could be forfeit.

“Tor . . .”

“Close yer eyes,” he bid her, his fingers and thumb now working together. “We will speak more of the bishop later, though in truth he said little else when I explained his services were no longer necessary.”

Ainsley’s hands reached up to grip the sides of the tub.

“The water,” she said as it splashed around them. Some of it escaped the wooden tub. “Ye will get wet.”

“I would dip myself in a tub fully clothed to bring ye pleasure,” he said, continuing to stroke her. “I would do aught, Ainsley, to ensure ye feel safe, and cared for, as long as I am alive.”

At that moment, Ainsley began to clench around his fingers. She moaned his name, a sweet sound indeed, as she let go. Allowing his hand one last exploration, Tor watched his wife’s expression as she found pleasure once again. As her breath became steady once again, he picked up the soap, unable to find it at first, and continued his ministrations.

“Even so, though I would give my own life to protect ye, death takes us all, love.”

Startled, Ainsley’s brows drew together. “Why would ye say such a thing?”

He sighed. “Because it is true. Being reminded of it does no’ diminish our joy. Instead, the reminder should do the opposite. Knowing it, we can embrace what each day brings. Live as though it could be our last. Take and find pleasure, and when the unexpected happens, embrace it. Learn from it.”

He could see her pondering his words. And then, Ainsley smiled.

“Ye would do well to heed yer own advice, husband.”

Handing Ainsley the soap, he stood, his knees protesting their position. “I can assure ye, I dinnae shy from taking pleasure.”

“Nay, ye do no’.” Ainsley sat up in the tub, her breasts thoroughly distracting him from their conversation. “I was thinking of yer brother. And yer role in the clan.”

When the unexpected happens, embrace it.

He wanted to argue with her. To tell Ainsley that situation was different. That he would gladly embrace the role if he could do it as well as Adair. But the words, ones he’d been repeating to himself since his brother’s death, rang hollow. If he truly wished his wife to live each day to the fullest, to not be afraid of the unexpected when her plans went astray, he must do the same.

Tor reached out a hand, and Ainsley, standing, took it.

“I know no’ how I lived without ye,” he said in earnest. “Thankfully, such a thing will no’ be necessary.” Helping her from the tub, Tor handed her the drying cloth. “We are well and truly married now. For better, as we said in front of witnesses, or worse.”

Ainsley accepted the cloth, pulling it tight around her shoulders. “And I am glad for it,” she said. “As I am glad the bishop’s intervention was unnecessary.” She smiled up at him. “And now, we intercept Marta and Ian, then ’twill be time to go home.”

Had she realized yet what that meant? Tor did not wish to remind her. Home was, for both of them, Castle MacRob. Though their clans were neighbors, so Ainsley could return as often as she’d like. He wanted to tell her that, and more, but at the first touch of their lips, Tor knew he needed every bit of his strength not to make love to his wife again this eve. He’d not have her in pain simply for his pleasure.

But as her hand moved down between them, the drying cloth dropping to the floor, Tor knew, as well as he knew his own name, that he was lost.

Chapter 33

It was dark still as she and Tor walked toward the docks. Few moved about the streets of Berwick, and truth be told, she was glad to have him by her side. The smell of baking bread filled her nostrils as they passed a baker, but they could not stop. Tor was determined to be on the docks before sunrise, even though the ship would not leave until after the sun showed its face.

Today they would find Ian and Marta at last.

“I cannae believe ’tis the day,” she said, relishing the feeling of her husband’s fingers wrapped around hers. When Tor did not answer, she looked up at him. Her husband was peering off into the distance, as if looking for someone.

“Do ye truly believe Godfrey will come as well?”

“I dinnae know,” Tor said. These past days he had been looking for the priest with no success. Having known the man for many years, she was uncertain what to believe. Godfrey did unsettle some with his reticent ways. But he’d been kind to her, if a bit overzealous on some discussions.