“It means that I don’t want to take anything away from you, like the box you hid in the oak tree to keep it safe from your brother’s greed. I simply want to share what is ours. I’m not Malcolm nor am I your father.”
He turned away from her. “MacDuff’s mouth did over-work itself, I see.”
“He just wanted me to understand you. When is your birthday?”
“The last day of August. Why?”
She just shook her head and smiled. She wondered what poets he liked best. Then she yawned, a true yawn, and he said, “You will rest now. I doubt not that your two brothers will be on their wives’ heels. You have my permission to protect me from those two. The wives, I see, didn’t know about their husbands’ bursting into our bedchamber.”
“No, thank God.”
“Perhaps I should tell them.”
“Colin! Oh, you’re jesting.”
“Yes, I am. Another thing, do Douglas and Ryder know their wives are here?”
“Why, certainly they know.”
“How could they let them come alone? No, I don’t want to know the tale, it would likely grizzle my hair.”
Colin stepped toward the fire and began to strip off his clothes. He was very aware that his wife was looking at him, he could feel her looking at him.
He said, “I think Alex is imprudent to have come here. It is a great many miles and it’s early days yet. I wouldn’t ever want you to risk losing a child with such foolishness. When you are pregnant you will do as I tell you.”
Sinjun just smiled at his back, knowing she would do just as she pleased, and willed him to turn around and face her. She wanted to see him, all of him. He was naked now and she stared at the long line of his back, his buttocks, his legs. He was perfect, no doubt about that. She couldn’t imagine another man in the world looking as he did.
“Colin?” Her voice sounded hoarse to herself.
“Yes?” he said slowly, turning to face her now, knowing, she thought, just knowing what she was thinking and wanting.
She swallowed. She stared and she wished he would remain there for another hour or so. Perhaps she could take up painting and he could agree to pose for her. She wondered if he would agree to such a ruse.
“Yes, Joan?”
“Will you sleep with me tonight? Hold me?”
“Oh yes. I know you enjoy that. It doesn’t threaten you, does it? I will even kiss you and you do like that very very much.”
He walked to the bed, knowing she wanted to look at him and allowing it. Her fascination amused him and, truthfully, pleased him inordinately. It was splendid for a wife to admire her husband, yes indeed. He heard her suck in her breath and he frowned. He looked at himself. Under her gaze, his sex had aroused itself with predictable enthusiasm, and now she was afraid. Well, what did she expect—that he would shrivel?
Damnation. He wanted her to be well again, quickly. This nonsense of hers was irritating to his nerves.
“You will stay home now, Colin?”
“Yes, as I told you, since MacPherson is here now, causing more trouble, I must deal with him here. And I will, Joan—without any help from you. Also it appears I must protect you from Aunt Arleth.”
“I appreciate that, Colin.”
He climbed into bed with her and she willingly came into his arms. They lay on their sides, facing each other, their noses nearly touching.
“You still have your bloody nightgown on.”
“Perhaps it best stay on.”
“You’re probably right, damn you.” He kissed her mouth, then grinned. “Open up, Joan. You’ve forgotten what I taught you. No, not like a fish or an opera singer. That’s right. Ah, yes. Give me your tongue.”
He wanted her very much and if he wasn’t mistaken she wasn’t at all averse to his continuing with his mouth and with his hands, but he knew she was still weak, not at all up to snuff, and he didn’t want her to become ill again. He kissed the tip of her nose and gently pressed her cheek down to his shoulder as he turned onto his back. It was damned difficult but he did it. He felt at the height of his nobility. She gave a small gasp of disappointment and tried to kiss him again.