“You’re soused!”
“Maybe,” Keeley mumbled. “All right, probably.”
Caelen shook his head. Foolheaded females.
He started toward Rionna when Keeley’s soft entreaty stopped him.
“Be gentle with her, Caelen. She’s afraid.”
He stopped, stared down at the passed out woman in the chair, and then slowly turned to look back at Keeley. “Is that what this is about? She got herself soused because she’s afraid of me?”
Keeley’s brow wrinkled. “Not of you particularly. Well, I suppose that could be part of it. But, Caelen, she’s frightfully … ignorant of …”
She broke off and blushed to the roots of her hair.
“I understand your meaning,” Caelen said gruffly. “No offense, Keeley, but ’tis a matter between me and my wife. I’ll be taking her now. You should be resting, not consuming ridiculous amounts of ale.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too rigid?” Keeley groused.
Caelen leaned down and slid his arms underneath Rionna’s slight body and lifted her. She weighed next to nothing, and to his surprise, he liked the feel of her in his arms. It was … nice.
He strode toward the door, barked an order to Gannon whom he knew to be standing on the other side, and the door quickly opened. In the hall Caelen met Alaric, who raised his eyebrow inquiringly.
“See to your own wife,” Caelen said rudely. “She’s probably unconscious by now.”
“What?” Alaric demanded.
But Caelen ignored him and continued on to his chamber. He shouldered his way in and then gently laid Rionna down on his bed. With a sigh, he stepped back to stare down at her.
So the little warrior was frightened. And to escape him, she’d drank herself into oblivion. Hardly complimentary to Caelen, but then he supposed he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t been … Well, he hadn’t been a lot of things.
With a shake of his head, he began peeling away her clothing until she was down to her underclothes. His hands shook as he smoothed the thin linen garment over her body.
He could see nothing of her br**sts. She was a slight woman and she didn’t have much in the way of a bosom. Her body was lean and toned, unlike any other woman he’d ever encountered.
He ached to lift the hem of her underdress and pull it away from her body until she was naked to his gaze. It was his right. She was his wife.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He could wake her now and assert his husbandly rights, but he had a sudden desire to see her eyes flame with the same want he felt. He wanted to hear her soft cries of pleasure. He didn’t want her to be afraid.
He smiled and shook his head. When she woke in the morning, she’d likely have a raging headache, and she’d wonder what the hell happened the night before.
He might have a conscience about taking what was rightfully his until she was prepared to surrender herself body and soul, but that didn’t mean she had to know it right away.
He slid into bed beside her and pulled the heavy fur over the both of them. The scent of her hair curled through his nose, and the warmth from her body beckoned to him.
With a muttered curse, he turned over until he faced away.
To his utter dismay, she murmured in her sleep and then snuggled up against his back, her warm, lush body molded so tightly to his that he hadn’t a prayer of sleeping this night.
CHAPTER 2
Something or someone was sitting on Rionna’s head. She moaned softly and batted at the offending object only to find herself swatting at air.
She forced her eyelids open and promptly regretted that action. Though it was dark, just the air sliding over her eyeballs made her twitch in agony.
As she lay there she became aware of other peculiarities. Such as the very warm, very hard body next to her, and the fact that she was clad in only her underdress.
Her hand flew to her bosom and she felt the linen binding around her br**sts. It was still in place, which meant her husband hadn’t been too invasive, nor did he realize the fullness of her br**sts. Not that she cared if he knew. He was her husband after all. He’d know soon enough. It wasn’t as if she could hide them forever.
She searched her memory but couldn’t summon a single image of what had happened the night before. The last thing she remembered was standing in front of Keeley’s window.
Now she was lying in bed next to her … husband.
Did it count as consummation if she couldn’t remember it? Shouldn’t she have shed more clothing than she had? Keeley and Mairin hadn’t gone over specifics such as that. Then she realized that if she had no memory of the event, it couldn’t have been so bad, could it?
Humiliation burned her cheeks and tightened her chest. What on earth was she to say to him? How could she face him? What if she’d acted like a harlot? What if she’d disappointed him, or worse, what if her lack of skill had disgusted him?
Despite the throbbing in her head and the nausea boiling in her stomach, she eased from the bed and shivered as the cold slid over her body. The warrior put off a lot of heat and it had been toasty warm in the bed.
Thank the good lord she couldn’t see him. She’d been close enough to him to know he hadn’t worn a tunic. What if he … What if he were completely naked?
She was torn between wanting to run from the room with all haste and succumbing to the absurd urge to peek under the covers.
Close on the heels of that dilemma came the realization that this was his chamber, not the one afforded to her as a guest.
She stumbled over her wedding finery that lay on the floor and heat singed her cheeks all over again. Had he undressed her? Had she?