Allara remembered that he had said that during the first week—the Holding Week—he was allowed to touch her, but only over her clothing. Was that what he was talking about?
“You just want to touch me tonight, then?” she asked.
“I want to hold you tonight,” Brand emphasized. “But first we need to get you something to sleep in.”
He picked her off his lap and placed her gently on the bed before getting up and going to rummage in a large storage area in the closet. After a moment, he came back with a red shirt made of soft, silky material.
“Hold up your arms,” he told Allara. “Let’s put this on you.”
Obediantly, she lifted her arms, though the blanket around her fell down and bared her breasts. But Brand didn’t stop to admire her nakedness. He quickly dropped the shirt over her head and helped her get her arms through the sleeves.
“Okay now—stand up and let’s see how it works,” he told her.
Allara climbed off the bed and smoothed down the shirt. It fell to her knees and the red color looked good with her skin tones. Though it was too large, the silky material clung to her curves, outlining her breasts—especially their sensitive tips—as well as her full hips.
Feeling self-conscious, she looked up at Brand, who was still sitting on the bed.
“Is this all right, husband?”
“More than all right, baby,” he rumbled, his eyes flicking over her. “You’re beautiful—you know that?”
Allara felt her cheeks getting hot with a pleased blush. Though she knew she should not enjoy it when the enemy complimented her, she couldn’t help liking the way his golden eyes caressed her curves—especially since she was no longer worried about him taking her.
You ought to be worried, her aunt’s voice whispered in her head. You ought to ask yourself how you’re going to complete this mission if he has decided to wait an entire month before he takes you!
But it seemed there was nothing more she could do about it tonight. After all, she could not force him to take her. And after the long, strange day capped off by so much anxiety and crying, Allara suddenly felt almost unbearably weary.
Covering her mouth, she tried to yawn as unobtrusively as she could.
Brand was sensitive to her situation at once.
“Poor little female,” he murmured. “You must be all worn out.”
“I am…quite tired,” Allara admitted.
“Let me get changed for bed and we’ll get some sleep,” he told her.
“And you will…” She bit her lip. “Hold me?”
He gave her his sleepy, golden-eyed smile again.
“Hell yes, sweetheart. I’ll hold you all night if you’ll let me.”
Allara didn’t see how she could stop him—he was, after all, her husband. A woman did not disagree with her husband’s wishes, even if she was planning to kill him as soon as she could. Despite her mission, they were still legally married and she must do as he said.
Not that she actually minded, she admitted to herself. When the big Kindred had been holding her in his lap earlier, it had been a very comforting, warm sensation. She wasn’t at all reluctant to have it repeated.
You should be reluctant, scolded the voice of her aunt. The closer you are to him, the more his scent works on you! And if he should start to use his Song on you again…
The thought made her shiver and she pushed it away as best she could.
In the meantime, Brand had gone to change his own clothing. He had taken off the red uniform shirt and black trousers and boots and came back wearing just a long pair of silky black sleep trousers.
Allara looked up at her new husband, her heart pounding in her chest. How could someone look so much bigger unclothed? Well, halfway unclothed, she amended to herself.
His bare chest was broad and muscular and his biceps bulged when he flexed his arms in a stretch. He had a small patch of black curls in the center of his chest which led in a trail down into the waistband of his sleep trousers. And below that, in the crotch of the trousers, she could see the long, thick ridge of his shaft. A shaft he wasn’t going to be using on her tonight, she realized, with an overwhelming feeling of relief.
Brand yawned.
“Ready for bed?” he asked Allara when he saw her looking at him.
“Yes, I…suppose so.” She was surprised he had asked her instead of simply ordering her into the bed with him. But she was beginning to realize this was the Kindred way—or at least it was Brand’s way. He didn’t order or demand much—he asked politely and was willing to answer any questions she might ask as well.
He’s much nicer than Aunt said he would be, she admitted to herself. But that didn’t change the fact that he was a Kindred and the ancient enemy of her people.