Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
The sun was just beginning to rise when Aidan and Henry, made their way back to the harbor laden with supplies to appraise the damage. The smell of burned tinder wafted through the air, and when they reached the water, Aidan took in the remnants of the ship, somehow an even sadder display now after the fire was completely out than when he’d pulled Brianna from the deck only hours ago. Pushing those particular thoughts to the side for now, he focused on the task at hand, monumental as it was. It might take days before a full assessment could be made, but now, in the clear light of day, it appeared the ship might be a total loss. He’d decided he would give the news to Grey himself, which meant he and Brianna would be finishing their journey on horseback.
Aidan spent the remainder of the day with John, making arrangements to haul the ship to the dockyard for a full inspection. It was the captain’s first major loss, and unsurprisingly, he was taking it hard, bearing the full responsibility of such a large number of men, and the exorbitant material cost. It gave Aidan no pleasure to see him like this, and so he was quick to remind him that other than a few minor injuries, no one had perished, and the ship, even favored as she was, was merely a vessel and could be rebuilt.
Still, something gnawed at the back of Aidan’s sleep-deprived mind. It wasn’t lost on him that they’d gained the ire of at least two men—the sailor and his father. He considered that the fire might have been set purposely. As he and the captain compiled a detailed account for Grey, they inspected what they could of the hull and decks and catalogued an inventory, paying particular attention to signs of foul play. It was a boon their other ship, which had initially been set to arrive later that day, had sailed into the harbor ahead of schedule. They’d be able to make good use of it housing their displaced sailors and considering how labor-intensive the coming days would no doubt prove, having the additional crew would be necessary. Alan and Richard, he’d heard, were none too happy when they spied the ship’s condition. As Lachlan’s men first, they’d seen him safely through his years, and after being charged with a ‘whelp’ as they called Aidan, times such as these might challenge their sound reputation. Their relief was noticeable when they spotted both he and Henry, hale and hearty. They took over questioning the remaining crew who might have seen something the night before that was significant only in hindsight .
By the time they’d had things sorted and the men disbursed to sup and sleep, it was dusk. They’d all only been abed for a few hours before being awoken in the wee hours to the fire, and that added to the long day that followed, meant that exhaustion would soon set in. Aidan could feel it himself already, but with the meager belongings he’d been able to recover from the ship, much of it still wet, salvaged from the debris, he also needed to make a few stops in town. They were in desperate need of supplies, too, even more so after the fire. Thankfully, his last planned stop was the bathhouse, as Aidan was eager to wash off the last remnants of soot and salt water. As he made his way back to his lodgings, he finally paid heed to his thoughts of Brianna. First and foremost, that he’d (unwittingly or not) somehow placed her in harm’s way at nearly every turn—taking her aboard the ship, the sailor, the fire—it was a blow the likes of which he’d never before experienced. That he hadn’t directly harmed her mattered little, for he still bore responsibility. It was not lost on him, either, that Esmeralda’s warning seemed now wholly insufficient in light of the occurrences that transpired these past four—God help him—just four days!
He hoped that these four days had pacified the Fates and that he and Brianna could know some semblance of peace for the foreseeable future. Not that what was whirling around his mind, nor what he’d felt physically when he’d seen her the night before was exactly peaceful. That he’d secured only one room for them both hadn’t been presumptuous, aye, they’d achieved a level of comfort with each other, but he’d selected these lodgings because he knew the owners personally. Adam had been a fierce warrior in his day, and in the years Aidan had been coming to Ayr, he’d become a good friend, too. He knew Brianna would be safe there. They only had one room, which they let out discriminately. In the chaos of the evening before, he hadn’t thought to tell Brianna to consider the chambers hers alone, so when she’d bid him enter and greeted him as she had—with such easy familiarity, in her bedclothes, smiling around a mouthful of hairpins, her eyes dancing—he’d been so overcome by the sight of her, he’d nearly fallen to his knees. He couldn’t even attribute it all to lust, though his attraction to her was undeniable. No, what struck him then was not passion-driven, but something more pure, something so overwhelming that he couldn’t yet name.
When he arrived back at the small cottage, Adam and the men he’d enlisted for the day to watch over Brianna were outside, not so subtly engaged in a game of swordplay. Henry, Richard, and Alan gladly joined them. Once Aidan made his way inside, Charlotte greeted him with a smile.
“Ye were right, Aidan,” she said, beaming as her boy reached for his bag, which held the garments he’d purchased for the morrow, and a few other strange items—trews made of some odd material and a knit shirt—he’d found tangled within Brianna’s dresses and had plucked out just before they’d fallen into the laundress’s hands. He smiled, and had he been less tired and a wee bit less apprehensive about the prospect of how Brianna might feel after a day to herself, mayhap spent brooding (not wrongly) about being in harm’s way again, he might have chuckled.
Charlotte gave him a knowing look just as Brianna’s head popped up from where she was sitting on the floor across the room, her smile wide, her eyes bright.
“Aidan!” she called, clearly well-rested. “I didn’t even hear you come in.” She jumped up and hurried over to him, reaching for his hands, nearly beside herself over whatever she was about to say. “Did you know Charlotte has the most beautiful collection of painted tiles from all over the world?”
Aye, he did, but Aidan mirrored her delight as if he hadn’t a clue, pushing through his weariness, grateful she’d passed her day so happily. With her hands still gripping his, a grin still on her face, he felt the tension leave his body. Something must have shown on his face, however, because she furrowed her brow then, and looked at him closely.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“Merely tired,” he said, which was the truth. He was more weary than he could ever remember being.
Still, concern marred her features, and she motioned toward the stairs. “Why don’t you get some sleep, I can stay down here.”
He was shaking his head, thinking nay, he’d rather stay awake for hours than be without her, but the words wouldn’t come forth. Still, she seemed to understand and told Charlotte that she’d come down for their dinner later. Then she took his hand, guiding him upstairs and into their room.
“Come, just rest,” she said, telling him she’d managed to get a few hours of sleep already.
Aidan followed her to the bed, and when she climbed onto it and gestured him over to her, he couldn’t get there fast enough. He laid his head in that spot just atop her chest and beneath her chin as their arms wound around each other, and he sank into her embrace, speaking softly as she asked him about the ship, Captain John, and the crew, all the while stroking her fingers through his hair. He fell asleep within moments, feeling her heartbeat, and inhaling her scent.
Sometime later, he awoke with a start, bolting upright, and scanning the empty room. He was in Ayr, at the lodge. Brianna. Where was she? Kitty was curled at the end of the bed. He’d slept deeply—judging from what he could see outside, the night would soon be upon them. He was about to go in search of Brianna when the door opened, and her silhouette appeared.
She smiled softly when she stepped into the room and saw he was up.
“It was getting late, and I didn’t want to keep Charlotte up,” she explained, lifting the tray she held, and motioning to Charlotte’s son behind her who held another. “So, we brought up dinner.”
Aye, he could see that. He watched as she showed the boy where to leave the trays, then pressed a coin into his hand, winking at Aidan as she did so. Aye, she was getting her land legs as well. While she fussed about the table, Aidan saw the boy out, then turned to Brianna again— his wife . The words rang in his head as if it just dawned on him.
She looked at him curiously. “Are you okay?”
“I’m suddenly reminded of the vows we made to one another—our marriage consent, church or no,” he said.
He almost laughed at the look on her face. “Suddenly?” she said. “ You forgot ?”
It was the first true bright spot in a long, wearisome stretch and he felt his grin as he held her gaze, shaking his head. “Nay, Breea. I will never forget. Not the vows we made, nor one single moment we’ve shared since the very first. And if that,” he said pointing at the table she’d set so beautifully for their supper, “tastes as delicious as it smells, it seems tonight’s boons are indeed plentiful.” Her eyes narrowed a fraction, and he laughed as he walked over to her. “’Tis no ploy. I did not forget.”
“If you say so.” She rolled her eyes.
He cupped her face, touching his lips to hers, nuzzling, just a wee bit before pulling back to look into her eyes. He’d woo her over supper and looked forward to each second, but for now…as he looked at her upturned face, her pretty blue eyes and those freckles spattered just so across the bridge of her nose, and her lips still slightly parted, he repeated, “I did not forget.” Then he kissed her again, a slow drawing upon her lips, listening for her hums of pleasure and learning what she liked. Aye, he liked that to o, and when he brushed across them again, he tugged with deliberation before changing direction, tilting her head back while deepening their kiss. When she made that sound again, a deep reverberation from her mouth to the base of her neck, it went right through him. His eyes shot open and he took a step back.
Brianna stared at him wide-eyed, with a breathless look he imagined mirrored his own.
“What happened?” she asked.
Such a simple question, yet he wasn’t sure how to answer, rendered mute at how he’d reacted to her, and what really amounted to nothing more than mild (mayhap a tad more) kissing. Her look prompted an answer. However, his true reply, which would have been something such as Your lips and the sound you just made…that vibration along the column of your neck, set me afire, was a sentiment he was surely not sharing with her, especially the afire portion. What he said was, “I thought to have a small taste of you, Miss Brianna O’Roarke, and then sit to enjoy your company over this supper that truthfully, smells utterly divine.”
“It is,” she said dryly. Her flat affected tone belied the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I helped make it for you, Mr. Sinclair,” she added, raising a brow.
Aidan struggled to keep his expression placid, too. In any other circumstance, he would have countered her retort and carried on what he sensed would fast become a verbal joust. However, this was no game. He wanted her. Not it. Still, he was curious. “What is it?” he asked.
“Coq au vin,” she said, jutting out her chin.
She had him so engaged in this seemingly innocuous exchange that truly was anything but. “ Coca-what,” he said, his ever-increasing desire for her warring with his desire to match wits.
At his look, she said. “Chicken stew.”
“Ah,” he said. “Coq au vin sounds better. Will it keep?” he asked.
She smiled, breaking the ruse. “Aye.”
At this, Aidan could hold back no longer. “I would have you now, Brianna O’Roarke.”
“Then why are you still talking?” she said, taking a step toward him. “It is destiny, and we are married, are we not?”
He chuckled at her frustrated tone, but when he considered her comportment up to now, he was nearly convinced that his wife was as pure as the first snowfall. “This has been truly enjoyable, highly provocative even,” he could tell she liked his praise. “But I find myself wondering about your experience.”
“You…you want to hear about my experience …” she sputtered, clearly taken aback. She paused an overly long time before saying, “With…” her hand flung out, “doing…”
She couldn’t even say the words, confirming he’d been correct. He chuckled, then shook his head at her look of embarrassment. “Nay.” He pointed at her, and she froze in place, which was fascinating in itself, though he did not want her to feel ridiculed. “Tis not directed at you. You merely surprise me…” his words trailed off at her quick smile. “…at almost at every turn.”
“Almost?” she said stepping even closer, her fingers lightly gliding across his arms.
Oh, to be sure, my Breea . Her controlled composure was fully back in place now, but he was not fooled. It was an air, and as he traced the side of her face, looking deeply into her eyes, he cared not. He knew that she would trust him in everything that was about to follow, and would look to him as her guide, so he would show her.
“You, Brianna O’Roarke are a riddle I’m unsure I’ll ever completely solve, nor do I think I wish to,” he said. “But I would swear to you again, I will honor and protect you until my last breath.”
Whatever she’d found in his candor, his words pierced that shell of hers and he felt the change, he saw it in her eyes, now open and vulnerable, he felt it in her touch when her trembling hand covered his.
Gone was all trace of artifice, even in her tone when she whispered to him, “Show me.”
“ Aye .” He nodded, unsure if the word escaped his lips as he reached out to pull her into his arms, for the first time, feeling her entire body pressed to his from head to toe in anticipation. The sensation was so stimulating, that his own hands shook as he tilted her head back, and covered her lips with his, feasting on her mouth, for long minutes, yet he never felt sated. He could not touch her enough, could not hold her to the degree he needed, and when he finally pulled back to look at her, he knew that she felt it too.
His hands skimmed down her body to remove her outer dress but became lost as he gently caressed her through the garment, her soft hums of enjoyment sounding throughout, from the swell of her breasts to the backs of her thighs, and every dip, and curve, and slope, and crevice between. It was long minutes later that she’d lifted her arms for him so he could finally remove it while leaving her shift in place, and when she reached for his shirt, he was quick to oblige and threw it to the floor. He’d intended a night of slow, leisurely pleasure, awakening Brianna gradually to shared passion, but he had a feeling it would be anything but. He’d never been so desperate for a woman before. Needing a diversion from their bed, at least for a few minutes, his eyes bored into her, and her pulse beat wildly at the base of her neck in response, her breaths coming in quick bursts, which surely did not help.
His hand flattened against her chest, and he strode forward moving her with him, until her back was pressed to the wall. And when he gathered the hem of her shift, bunching it in his hands, as his fingers brushed passed her knees and then her thighs, stopping at her hips, she nearly swooned, or mayhap it was him that nearly swooned. He avoided touching her intimately just yet twisting the material from her shift around his hand, before bringing his fist up against the wall and pinning her securely in place. His eyes flared as she gasped, and when she started to pant, merely in anticipation, he nearly lost himself then and there. Slow. Down. Aidan .
He nudged her face with his, and when she tilted her head back and opened her mouth for him, begging for her need to somehow be satisfied, he did not hold back and kissed her deeply and wantonly, pressing his body to hers while pulling and suckling on her lips. She matched him move for move with her mouth, all the while scoring him with her nails, clutching him anywhere she could. He cupped her breast, pressing and fondling her as he kissed and nipped his way across her collarbone and the column of her neck, then lifted his head so he could gauge her reaction to his touch. The need and desperation on her face and in her eyes shook him in a way he’d never experienced before, and he wondered if he appeared just as desperate as she. He surely felt it, and took mercy on them both, gliding his hand down to cover her mound, groaning deeply as she pressed herself against him. Then she reached for his breeches and unfastened the ties to free him, his head fell back as she wrapped him in her hands. He grunted, taken aback by the sudden escalation, and especially Brianna’s eager curiosity.
“Breea…” He barely heard his own voice. “Brianna.”
She looked up then, her eyes wild from their foreplay, and for a moment he considered taking her now, here, but he could not take her against the wall. At least, not tonight. She was still staring at him when he told her to unhand his member, his trousers, or both so he could take them to bed.
She shook her head, her eyes growing even wider at his suggestion, and tightened her grip. “I can’t let go,” she whispered. Then she moaned as her head fell back against the wall.
Right, he hadn’t let go either. His hand was fastened to her, clutching her possessively. When he chuckled, she did too, and they each drew in a much-needed breath. He took advantage of the moment and swept her off her feet before she knew what he was about and had them atop the bed in seconds. Stopping again only to discard the rest of their garments, he pulled her beside him and began touching her again, this time from head to toe, keeping watch for sensitive areas. His fingers spread her nether lips, gliding his hand from the entrance of her sex to her hooded bud, she moaned, pressed against him, and he nearly came undone. So close he feared he would not regain his control, he spread her wider even more, then teased his fingertips about her entrance to coat her exposed pleasure point with moisture, gliding over her, begging her release. He watched her reach the pinnacle, her breaths quickening, her hands grasping his arms, as she moaned.
“Breea,” he breathed with her, adding more pressure to push her over the edge.
He was wound so taut he nearly exploded when she gasped his name but continued to caress her. Then she was reaching for him, motioning him to her, and he settled himself between her thighs, leaning his forehead to hers. “The last thing I want is to hurt you,” he said, knowing that for a brief moment, he would. “Forgive me.” Then he grasped her hips and thrust himself deeply inside.
She cried out, her hands digging into his shoulders, as she tried to push herself away.
“Be still, Breea,” he begged, his firm grip keeping her in place. “I promise, this will quickly pass.”
When she opened her eyes, she whispered, “It’s already gone.” Surprise was in her voice as the tension left her body.
He pressed his forehead to hers, kissing her as he braced his arms behind her. He watched her eyes widen in surprise as he slowly began to move inside of her, enjoying how she moaned from the pleasure of it. His expression mirrored hers as he quickened the pace, sinking deeper, and knew he was done. He forgot to breathe as he gave in to the intense pleasure of being surrounded by her, and thrust forward one last time, overcome in rapture as he released.