Chapter 31
Davina momentarily melted into her husband’s arms. She was under his spell even before he pressed his lips to hers, telling her how he would show her how much he wanted her.
The wicked man.
That desire was mutual. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her onto himself.
She could feel his throbbing manhood press against her, enflaming her desire even more.
She cupped his face, bringing him closer, biting his lower lip, only to soothe it with another kiss. He groaned.
She felt him pool her skirt around her waist, and a moment later, he gently laid her on his writing table. That freed up his right arm, which slid across the polished surface, throwing everything onto the floor.
She giggled. “What are ye doing, Baird?”
“Worshipping ye,” he murmured, gripping her hair and pulling her slightly back as to reveal her neck, which he proceeded to kiss.
All she could do was close her eyes and enjoy the sensation of his tongue on her burning skin, while she anticipated what was to come. Her hands flew to him of their own accord, pulling him even closer, feeling his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.
Her fingers fumbled with this belt a little, releasing his from the constraint of his kilt.
“Touch me, Davina…” she heard him murmur, and she obeyed.
She took his manhood into her hand, squeezing and tightening her grip on him. He groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. She was still trembling, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of him. Her one hand played with him, while her other hand traced lines over his chest and abdomen.
Strangely enough, she didn’t feel any shame or embarrassment. And there was not a single moment of hesitation. She was doing what she wanted to do with this man. Their lips parted for only a moment, and he grinned at her.
“Dae with it what ye want,” he told her.
This time, she blushed, because she knew what she wanted do with what she was holding in her hand. Her mind and then her body, turned to flame. This man was making her be wicked, and it seemed to be everything she had ever wanted.
She kept moving her hand, pleasuring him slowly, feeling him tighten and throb in hand. Then, she stopped, adjusting it between her legs. He didn’t rush. Neither did she.
She could feel the tip of his manhood press against her warm heat.
“Take me,” she managed to whisper, and the moment she did so, he pushed into her, claiming her with one, long thrust.
Her mind exploded with the sensation of pleasure, as his lips crashed over hers. He wanted to claim every inch of her body and she let him. Their breaths merged as he demanded more and more of her, and she gave all of herself to him, because she was already his.
Just as she expected, a sudden tidal wave of pleasure washed over her, surging through her entire body. He thrust one more time, tightening right after her. He groaned against her lips, and a moment later, they were still breathing heavily but still not letting go of each other.
His fingers brushed her temple, tentative, as he adjusted a wayward curl that had escaped its pins.
“There,” he murmured. “Ye look… presentable again.”
Davina laughed. “That,” she said, tipping her head deliberately so the curl escaped once more, “is a very generous assessment, seeing that me skirt is still around me waist.”
He looked down, then lowered it hastily, not even trying to hide his smirk. “I am kent fer me generosity.”
“Among yer tenants, perhaps,” she replied. “As yer wife, I should hope fer honesty.”
He studied her and that smirk was still there. “Very well. Ye look thoroughly undone.”
“As dae ye,” she said, glancing pointedly at his disordered collar.
Baird glanced down, then huffed a quiet laugh. “I will recover.”
“Oh, I dinnae doubt it,” Davina said. “Ye seem remarkably resilient, me laird.”
“Me name,” he reminded her mildly. “When ye wish tae scold me, when ye tease me, when ye mean tae distract me entirely.”
Her pulse fluttered traitorously. “Baird,” she said, careful to keep her tone light, “if ye continue looking at me so, I shall begin tae suspect ye have forgotten entirely why we were discussing shipments.”
“I have nae forgotten,” he said. “I merely… reconsidered me priorities.”
She smiled. “And where dae I rank among crates of wool and barrels of salt?”
He did not answer at once. Instead, he lifted her hand, turning it palm-up as though examining something precious and newly discovered.
“Higher,” he said simply. “Considerably.”
Davina swallowed. “Ye speak as though ye are surprised yerself.”
“I am,” he admitted. “Ye often surprise me.”
She leaned her shoulder lightly against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath. “I once thought ye married me because ye had nay choice.”
“I once thought the same,” he said.
She looked up. “And now?”
“Now,” he replied, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, “I wonder how I ever believed I could be content without ye.”
Her breath caught. “That,” she said after a moment, “was dangerously close tae a compliment.”
He smiled fully then, unguarded and boyish in a way that made her chest ache. “Good. I should hate tae grow predictable.”
She reached up and straightened his collar with exaggerated care. “Dinnae worry. I doubt that danger threatens us.”
He caught her wrist gently. “Davina.”
“Aye?”
“If ye ever doubt again why I chose this marriage,” he said softly, “ye need only ask.”
She met his gaze without hesitation. “I think I shall enjoy discovering the answer without asking at all.”
His answering smile promised that she would.
Baird Kincaid had never trusted silence. It crept along the corridors of the keep in the days that followed, settling into corners and stretching between conversations.
The shipment was late. Not disastrously so, but late enough to scrape at his patience like grit beneath a blade.
“Say it again,” he said.
Kenny did not look up from the ledger. “Still nay riders from the east road.”
Baird’s jaw tightened. “And the western path?”
“Clear,” Kenny replied. “Empty, same as yesterday.”
Baird exhaled through his nose. “Useless.”
Kenny finally glanced up. “It’s only two days past the estimate.”
“Two days is enough,” Baird said sharply. “Enough fer sabotage.”
Kenny closed the ledger with deliberate calm. “Aye. And enough time fer ye tae wear a trench in the floor if ye keep pacing.”
Baird stopped short. “I dinnae pace.”
“Ye stalk,” Kenny corrected. “Like a bear denied its supper.”
Baird shot him a look. “Careful.”
Kenny smiled faintly. “Yer wife sent me.”
That halted him more effectively than any rebuke.
“She did, did she?” Baird asked. “Tae check up on me?”
“Tae understand ye,” Kenny replied. “Which, if ye ask me, is a far more dangerous task.”
Baird turned toward the window, with his hands clasped behind his back. The courtyard lay quiet below and deceptively peaceful.
“This shipment is nae a luxury,” he said. “If it daesnae arrive—”
“It will” Kenny said gently. “Ye ken that. I ken that. So daes Lady Davina.”
Baird snorted. “She knows more than she ought.”
“She listens,” Kenny said. “And ye talk in yer sleep.”
Baird froze. “I dinnae.”
A knock on the door interrupted them before Kenny could provide proof otherwise.
“Enter,” Baird called out.
Davina entered with the quiet assurance she seemed to possess in abundance. She took one look at him and sighed.
“Ye have sharpened three daggers this morning,” she said. “One of them twice.”
“They needed it.”
“They didnae,” she replied. “They are ceremonial.”
“Ceremony dulls a blade,” Baird muttered.
Kenny cleared his throat. “I will… see tae the stores.”
Davina watched him leave. “Ye threatened him again, didnae ye?”
“I did nay such thing.”
“Ye glowered.”
“I always glower.”
She stepped closer, folding her arms. “Ye snapped at the cook.”
“She burned the oatcakes.”
“She didnae.”
“They tasted fearful,” he insisted.
Davina tilted her head. “Ye are worried.”
He looked at her then and found no accusation there, only understanding. That unsettled him far more than judgment ever had.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I am.”
She reached out, resting her hand against his arm. “We ken why.”
“That daesnae make it easier.”
“Nay,” she agreed. “But it makes it shared.”
He covered her hand with his own, grounding himself in the warmth of her presence. “If this shipment fails—”
“It willnae,” she said.
“Ye dinnae ken that.”
“I ken ye,” Davina replied. “And I ken ye have prepared fer every outcome except one.”
He frowned. “Which is?”
“That ye are allowed tae be anxious,” she said softly. “And still be a good laird.”
Silence settled again but this time, it did not feel like an enemy.
Baird squeezed her hand once. “If Sinclair has interfered—”
“Then we will face it,” she said. “Taegether. Preferably after ye eat something.”
A corner of his mouth lifted despite himself. “Ye conspire with the cook.”
“Relentlessly,” Davina told him, taking him by the hand and leading him out of his study. “Now come.”
Baird allowed himself to be led, though every instinct in him bristled at abandoning his post, even for a moment.
“Where are ye taking me?” he asked as they turned down the narrower passage that led away from the main hall.
Davina did not look back. “It is a surprise.”
He slowed. “Ye ken I dinnae like surprises.”
She glanced over her shoulder then. There was mischief in her beautiful, dark eyes. “Ye married one.”
He huffed, teasing her. “That wasnae a surprise. That was a decision.”
“A distinction without comfort,” she said lightly. “Come along.”
Baird frowned. “If this is another ambush by the cook—”
“It is an intervention,” Davina said. “Ye will survive.”
“I have been eating,” he protested.
“Ye have been standing near food,” she corrected. “Breathing daesnae count as nourishment, Baird.”
“I consumed broth this morning.”
She arched a brow. “Did ye swallow it, or merely glare at it until it fled in fear?”
A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. “Ye are excessively bold fer a woman who is dragging her laird about against his will.”
“And ye are excessively thin fer a man claiming he will protect his clan with his sword,” she chirped back.
He opened his mouth to retort, then paused. The truth, inconvenient as it was, settled heavily in his chest. He had eaten little and thought even less of it. His father’s voice echoed faintly that hunger sharpened the mind, but Davina’s gaze held no patience for such nonsense.
“Very well,” he said. “But if Sinclair chooses this moment tae strike—”
“Then ye will face him with a full stomach,” she said briskly. “Which I am told improves one’s disposition.”
They climbed in companionable silence until he realized, with mild confusion, that they were heading not toward the kitchens but higher still.
“The solar?” he said. “What business have I there?”
Davina smiled to herself. “Mine.”
She pushed open the door before he could object further. Golden sunlight filled the room, warming the stone and catching in the colored glass of the windows. Near the far wall, a blanket had been laid out. A small basket rested beside it, half-open. The scent of bread and cheese was unmistakable.
Baird stopped short. “What is this?”
“A picnic,” Davina said cheerfully. “Before ye scowl, aye, I ken it is indoors. The wind would have stolen half the food, and ye would have blamed Sinclair fer it.”
He stared at the spread. “Ye planned this.”
“I planned fer ye,” she corrected. “Come now.”
Despite himself, his mouth twitched. “Ye are far too comfortable commanding me.”
“Someone must be,” she replied lightly. “Sit. Or dae I need tae remind ye I am yers, and therefore allowed tae fuss?”
He hesitated only a moment before lowering himself onto the blanket. The act felt strangely intimate.
Davina knelt opposite him and began unpacking the basket. “Bread, cheese, apples, and something warm,” she counted. “Eat, or I shall take it as a personal insult.”
He accepted the plate she handed him. “Ye should ken better than tae threaten a Kincaid with insult.”
“And yet,” she said, smiling, “it seems effective.”
He took a bite. The food was simple and to his surprise, he realized how deeply he had needed it.