Chapter 6
Once inside the chamber, Spring started to feel jittery, even though she tried her hardest not to show it.
The first thing she’d learned in her training of becoming a warrior was never to show weakness.
If she seemed upset by the fact she’d have to couple with Shaw, she’d be vulnerable. Never would she let that happen.
He entered the room behind her. Without turning around, she heard the soft thud of the door as it closed.
It was dark and cold in the room. Her body shivered, yet sweat collected in the palms of her hands.
Beams of moonlight spilled into the chamber through the open window, casting a subtle blue hue over the room, making it seem mystical and magical.
One way or another, this would be a night she would never forget.
She heard some rustling behind her in the dark and then saw a spark of light as he lit a fire in the hearth. The orange glow from the flames bathed his tanned body. Hunkering down, his plaid rode up his bare legs and her eyes followed curiously.
“This should help to remove some of the chill from the room.” With precise movements and as sleek as a cat, he arranged logs on the fire, putting his hands so close to the flames that she thought he’d be burned.
As he finished stacking the wood, the flames grew higher.
His sculpted face became illuminated in an orange glow.
“The bed will be cold. Mayhap, I should get in first to warm it.” He spoke without looking at her and, for that, she was glad.
She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was.
Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she finally managed to squeak out her answer.
“Aye.” In one smooth action that came without thinking, she slipped her hand into her pocket.
Her fingers closed around the wooden toy that served as an amulet to hold and rub whenever she became worried.
So, this was it. She was about to get into bed with a man she didn’t know and they would make love.
She was married now and there was no rejecting the action that would consummate the marriage, even if the alliance was a farce.
If she refused him, he would be privy to her clan’s traitorous plan.
To play out her role, she would have to behave like a wife in every way.
Would they be allies when they finished or would they still feel like enemies? She could only wonder. Would coupling change anything between them? She doubted that it would.
“I’ll close the window and light a candle to give ye warmth and light.”
“Nay,” she said, stopping him as he started to move toward the shutter.
The thought of being closed into the room with this man, all alone, was making her uncomfortable.
If she could at least see the outside, she wouldn’t feel so trapped.
“Leave it. I like the fresh air.” She shivered when she said it and wrapped her arms around herself. He didn’t miss her action.
His brows dipped and he shook his head slightly. “Whatever ye want.”
Shaw started to remove his clothing and, in response, she looked the other way. That’s when she saw the bow and arrows hanging from a hook on the wall.
“Ye really like that, dinna ye?” came his voice from behind her.
“What do ye mean?” She turned slightly and bit the inside of her cheek when she saw his bare chest. He’d removed his leine and lowered his plaid to his waist. Her eyes ran down his toned body, stopping at the dark hair emerging from the top of his plaid that sat low on his hips.
This man was in the prime of his life and had the body to match it.
She’d never seen any man look so good before.
It took her breath away. She did like it; she had to admit.
“I was talkin’ about the bow and arrows but, perhaps, ye see somethin’ else ye like?” In one motion, he dropped his plaid to the floor, baring his entire body to her. She spun around and faced the fire, rather than to gawk at his perfect, naked body. “Ye seem verra attached to the weapon.”
She didn’t turn back until she heard him slipping beneath the covers. His quick intake of breath led her to believe the sheets were as cold as the room. Funny, but her shivering stopped and now she felt warmth flowing through her body.
“I do,” she said, only reminding her of the vows she’d taken. She mindlessly strolled over to warm her hands at the fire. Picking up an iron rod, she started poking at the logs. “It was the first weapon I ever had. I never wanted to use a blade. I dinna like them.”
“Ye sound like my faither. That’s what he used to say, too. That’s why he made the bow and arrows in the first place. He was skilled with a sword, but kent my mathair preferred him to use the bow instead.”
“He made them?” She turned to look at him, still holding the hot poker in one hand.
“I helped him,” he told her. “It was my idea to dye the feathers and add the etchings of vines and animals to the arrows as well.”
“Tell me more.” This story interested her and she wanted to find out all she could about Shaw Gordon as well as his father.
“If ye put down that hot poker and join me in the bed, I’d be happy to tell ye anythin’ ye want to ken.”
She froze. He was asking her to join him. Naked. In bed. The time had come and she couldn’t deny him. She was his wife now and it was her duty to please him.
“Aye.” She slowly put down the poker and walked over to the chair where he’d laid his weapon belt and leine. Her hands went to her belt and his eyes followed. “So, talk.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling. “I was close to my faither, and it was hard for me to lose him.”
“I didna kill him and neither did my clan, if that’s what ye’re thinkin’.”
“I didna mean that.” He continued his story. “We made the bow and arrows no’ long after my mathair became . . . addled. It helped us to bond. It kept my faither’s mind busy so he wouldna miss the way my mathair used to be.”
“What happened to yer mathair to make her that way?”
“No one kens,” he said. Sadness clung to every word.
“I remember her as a bright, high-spirited lady who always had a smile on her face. Then, one day, things changed. She started becomin’ bitter and angry at all of us.
Her appetite dwindled and she lost a lot of weight.
Her memory started to go as well. There were days when she acted as if she didna even ken me, my brathair, or my faither. ”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“My faither decided to take her to the Lowlands where there was a sorcerer who could supposedly cure whatever it was that ailed her. That’s why they were in the Lowlands durin’ Burnt Candlemas. I dinna think they ever saw the sorcerer. Their lives were taken before they made it there.”
There was a moment of silence and she heard him release a sigh. “Enough about my family. I ken ye have a faither, but what about yer mathair?”
She removed her boots next. “My mathair died when I was verra young. I barely remember her. My brathairs and I were raised by my faither.”
“Well, I remember my mathair perfectly,” he said, back to talking about his family again.
She could see how important it was to him and could tell he really missed his parents.
“I can still see her face if I close my eyes.” He closed his eyes as he finished his story.
“She was blond and tall – like ye. That’s where my brathair, Leod, gets his blond hair.
I take after my faither with dark hair. My faither was a fair man and even-tempered unless ye angered him.
However, it took a lot to make him unsettled.
My mathair, on the other hand, held the innocence of a dove, yet the fierceness of a wolf when it came to her children.
She was the best mathair anyone could ever want. ”
Shaw heard Spring sigh and decided talking about his mother might not be a good idea since she said she’d lost hers as well.
He needed to keep things light since they were about to couple.
He’d gotten caught up in his memories and it had felt good to open up to someone.
He used to talk with Alpina all the time but, now, he had no one.
Perhaps he’d gotten carried away just because it felt good to be alone with a woman again.
He was a rugged Highlander but he also liked intimacy on occasion.
“My faither loved that bow and arrows, and told me when he died someday that they would be mine.”
“Well, I guess they’re yers now, so ye can stop frettin’.” Her words were cold, reminding him that she was a warrior woman and nothing like his late wife.
“I’m no’ frettin’.” He opened his eyes and pushed up to a sitting position, meaning to tell her not to talk to him that way.
But he stopped and swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw her standing there in front of the open window entirely naked.
She didn’t cover herself with her arms, and he sincerely doubted she had a shy bone in her body.
She stood tall and proud with her hard nipples turned upward as her bare breasts pointed out the window.
Her long, golden tresses trailed down her back like an exotic mane.
“Are we finished with the small chat?” she asked.
“I – I – yes,” he answered, drinking in her beauty.
Long and lean, the fire glowed against her skin, making her look like a vixen.
Her body was sleek and her skin tone even.
He couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to run his hands over her curves.
A tight stomach led to her womanly mound covered in blond, crisp curls that looked just right for cupping in his palm.
“Please, close the shutter and come join me on the bed,” he said, feeling his manhood growing beneath the covers.