Chapter 31
For a minute, all Oscar could do was stare at her. She stood between him and the door, close enough for him to see the quick pulse in her throat. One step back, and she would place her hand on the doorknob.
He wanted to tell her to sit down.
The command reached his tongue before he caught it. He bit the inside of his cheek, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Ceana’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Ye were about to order me into that chair, were ye nae?”
“Aye.”
“That is the trouble.”
His hands remained braced on the desk where he had accused her of deceiving him. The wood pressed into his palms as she stepped closer.
“Ye interrupt work I am capable of doin’. Ye have forbidden the stairs and ordered the servants to report what I eat and how long I rest.” Her fingers closed around the folds of her gown. “Does any of that nae sound strange to ye?”
Oscar’s grip tightened.
“And every night,” Ceana continued, “ye lie across the chamber and watch me from the chair as though our marriage bed has become another dangerous place.”
“Every precaution was meant to keep ye safe.”
“Safe for what kind of life?” she asked.
The question stripped every defence from his mouth.
“I returned because ye asked me to,” she said. “I returned because ye finally believed me. I didnae return to become a body everyone else governs.”
His gaze fell to her belly. He had watched it change all week and denied himself the touch he craved.
Each night, desire had kept him awake on the floor while Ceana lay within reach.
He wanted to lay his palm on her belly. He wanted her pressed against him, warm and willing, with nothing between them.
His hands stayed on the desk.
“Ye have been ill,” he said. “A fall on the stairs could hurt ye. Too little food could weaken ye.”
“But that isnae just it, is it? There is somethin’ else. Somethin’ else ye see when ye look at me. What is it?”
Oscar lowered his head, his breath scraping through his throat. He might as well come out with it. “As ye ken, me first wife died givin’ birth to Tommy.”
Ceana’s fingers loosened around her gown.
“Paisley was seven, but since she was a girl, the clan still expected a son.” He pushed off the desk and flexed his achin’ fingers. “Me first wife was me friend. She trusted me when we agreed to another pregnancy for the sake of the clan.”
The study blurred at the edges. He fixed his gaze on a dark mark in the wood.
“Her labor lasted through the night. The midwives spoke plainly at first, then their voices changed.” He swallowed thickly. “Blood soaked through one cloth while they reached for another.”
Tommy had cried with furious strength. Oscar could still remember the weight of his wet, squalling body in his arms while the midwives worked behind the bed curtains.
“I heard me son’s first cry while his maither lay beyond savin’. The clan received its heir.” He pressed one fist against his sternum. “But Mary paid for it with her life.”
Ceana remained beside the door. Her shoulders had lowered, and her hands now hung open at her sides.
“Since that day, every sign of pregnancy takes me back to that chamber,” Oscar continued. “When ye cannae eat or feel faint, I see the blood on those linens. If I lose ye, there will be too little of me left for Tommy or Paisley.”
For a minute, the room was silent. Oscar bit the inside of his cheek while Ceana looked down at the floor, sympathy flashing across her face. He was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was pity.
Ceana drew in a slow breath. “Ye cannae prevent death by preventin’ me from livin’. Yer fear is already harmin’ the children ye want to protect.”
Oscar raised his eyes to hers. “What do ye need from me?”
“Trust Muriel’s judgment. Let me work, climb the stairs, and hold the children without everyone waitin’ for yer permission.” She took a step toward him. “I will tell ye when I am tired, ill, or afraid. When I say I am well, ye must believe me. The servants must stop reportin’ me every movement.”
“The fear willnae vanish because I have said what happened.” Oscar reached for the bell cord. “It willnae become another order without yer agreement.” He pulled once.
A footman entered, but Oscar kept his eyes on Ceana. “Tell Mairi and the other servants that all reports about Lady MacKane’s meals, work, rest, and movements will cease at once. Her use of the stairs is nay longer restricted.”
“Aye, me Laird.”
The footman bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him.
Oscar rounded the desk and stopped beyond reach. Ceana studied him, her gaze moving over his face before settling on his right hand. She reached for it.
He relaxed his fingers as she turned his wrist and guided his palm downward. Warmth spread through him when she placed his hand on the small swell of her belly.
Suddenly, he felt a flutter against the center of his palm. He stared down, certain it had been Ceana shifting beneath his hand. But then her breath caught.
“Did ye feel that?” she whispered.
The faint flutter touched his palm again.
Oscar sank down to one knee, keeping his hand where she had placed it. His breath broke into a laugh as heat gathered behind his eyes.
“There ye are,” he whispered.
Oscar remained on one knee before her as her hand found his shoulder. Tears clung to his lower lashes, and his shoulders rose unevenly beneath her hand.
“That is really our bairn?”
“Aye.”
His palm stayed warm against her belly. He waited, wanting nothing more than to feel the baby again.
“This doesnae erase what we agreed on,” Ceana warned.
He looked up at her. “I understand.”
“I will accept care, honesty, and reasonable caution. But I willnae accept bein’ watched or askin’ permission to live.”
“Ye willnae have to.”
Ceana stroked the damp hair back from his forehead. “I missed ye for the whole month I was gone. I have missed ye this week too, with ye sleepin’ two paces away.”
“I lay awake wantin’ ye every night.” His fingers curled gently over her belly. “I love ye, Ceana.”
Her breath caught. “I love ye too.”
She took his other hand and tugged him up. The instant he was on his feet, she caught his face between her palms and kissed him.
Oscar’s mouth opened beneath hers with a rough sound.
His arm closed around her waist, drawing her against the hard length of his body.
The first stroke of his tongue sent heat straight to her core.
She clutched his shirt and kissed him harder, tasting the month they had spent apart and every sleepless night that had followed.
Eventually, he broke away, his breath a little ragged. “Are ye certain?”
“I came home because I chose ye. I am choosin’ this too.” Ceana took his hand and led him out of the study.
She climbed the stairs at her own pace. Oscar matched every step, his jaw tight and his hands hanging at his sides. When her skirts brushed the next step, his fingers flexed. He still allowed her to reach the landing on her own.
Inside their chamber, Ceana turned toward the bed. “There,” she said. “It is only fair.”
She pushed him down and straddled his lap. His hands hovered near her waist until she placed them there.
She unbuttoned his shirt and spread her palms over the heated skin beneath it. His heart beat hard against her hand. She peppered kisses on his chest as he unfastened her gown, then raised her arms so he could pull it off her. Her shift followed, leaving her naked astride him.
Oscar’s eyes darkened as they slid over her swollen breasts and the slight swell of her belly before returning to her face.
“Ye look… breathtakin’,” he rasped, brushing two fingers over her belly.
He bent and kissed the curve once. Then his mouth trailed up her ribs before closing around her nipple. She arched into him as his tongue circled the sensitive peak. His hand cupped her other breast, kneading it until she pressed closer and threaded both hands through his hair.
“Oscar.”
He laid her down on the bed, making sure to slide a pillow beneath her head, then kneeled between her parted legs. His mouth moved down her stomach and up her inner thigh.
The first swipe of his tongue through her wet folds tore a cry from her. Ceana grabbed his shoulder as he opened her with his thumbs and found her bud. He circled it slowly, all while intently watching her face.
“More,” she begged. “Daenae make me wait again.”
Oscar slid one finger inside her as his tongue worked faster. The rhythmic strokes heightened her pleasure, causing her inner walls to tighten.
Ceana lifted her hips and held his head between her thighs. “There. Keep doin’ that.”
He obeyed.
His finger curled inside her, and the firm pressure of his mouth carried her over the edge. She cried out his name, gripping the headboard until the last tremor ebbed.
He kissed the inside of her thigh. She caught his shirt and pulled him over her. She kissed him once, tasting herself on his mouth, then pushed against his shoulder.
“On yer back.”
He turned over at once.
Ceana tugged off his breeches and straddled his hips. His erection stood thick against her belly. She wrapped her hand around him, guided the head to her entrance, and slowly lowered herself onto him.
Oscar’s breath left him in a groan. His hands hovered near her hips.
“Touch me.”
His palms settled there.
Ceana rocked her hips until he was fully seated inside her, then paused to relish the stretch.
She began to move. Each rise drew him nearly free before she sank onto him again, controlling the depth and rhythm. Oscar watched her breasts sway, then fixed his gaze on her face. When a deeper stroke made her gasp, fear tightened his expression.
“Look at me,” she soothed. “I am here, and I want ye.”
His eyes met hers.
“I love ye,” he murmured.
“I love ye too.”
Ceana quickened the pace, and his fingers tightened on her hips without directing her. Pleasure gathered again as she ground against him, taking the angle she needed.
Her climax seized her with a sharp cry. Oscar held her through every tremor, then drove upward at her urging and came inside her. She remained above him until their breathing slowed.
Eventually, he laid her on her back, washed between her thighs with a warm cloth, and brought water to her lips.
“Are ye comfortable?” he asked.
“Aye.”
He nodded. “Tell me if that changes.”
After helping her into a clean shift, he pulled on his shirt. “Ye daenae need me to leave the bed?”
The question warmed her more than the blanket waiting there.
“Nay, I daenae.”
Oscar nodded and climbed in beside her, drawing her against his chest. Ceana rested there until a knock sounded at the door.
Paisley poked her head through the gap. “May Tommy and I sleep with ye?”
Behind her, Tommy struggled to block Ness with his body. The goat thrust its nose beneath his arm.
Ceana giggled, and Oscar’s chest shook with his own laughter.
“Anyone who kicks will sleep elsewhere,” he warned.
“Ness never kicks,” Tommy declared.
Paisley looked at the goat. Ceana raised one eyebrow. Tommy abandoned his defence.
“May I lie beside ye?” Paisley asked Ceana.
“Come here.”
Ceana drew her close.
Tommy climbed in beside Oscar and immediately stretched across more space than his small body required. Ness settled on the rug near the foot of the bed.
Oscar placed one hand on Ceana’s belly, feeling their child move.
“I have never been happier,” she whispered.
“Me neither,” he murmured, his voice thick.
Until Tommy’s heel struck his shin.
He opened one eye, drew the blanket higher over the boy, and gathered them all closer.