Chapter 8 #2
Tommy shrugged. “That makes the fight better.”
Oscar took a low exhale. “The river is too deep at that point. He would lose his horse and half his supplies.”
Ceana closed the book over one finger. “Ye are only sidin’ with Tommy because neither of ye respects a sensible retreat.”
Oscar looked up at her. “A poor route remains poor whether the traveler is sensible or nae.”
Paisley laughed before covering her mouth. Oscar looked at her, and his face softened long enough for Ceana to see how differently he might appear if his duties did not occupy so much of his time and reputation.
When Ceana resumed the tale, she caught him watching her over Tommy’s bent head. The memory of his hand on her waist returned, followed by the breath that had tickled her lips before the study door opened. His gaze lowered briefly to her mouth, and she nearly stuttered.
Tommy surrendered to sleep before the warrior reached the river. His weight settled against her, one hand resting near Ness on the rug. Paisley lasted only a little longer. Her fingers closed around Ceana’s hand as her eyes fluttered shut.
Oscar rose and lifted Tommy without waking him. The boy curled against his chest while Ness followed them toward the adjoining bedchamber. Ceana stayed with Paisley until a maid came and gently pried her hand away from the girl’s loose grasp.
Oscar waited in the passage, his eyes sharp in the dark. When she joined him, he looked even more relaxed than earlier.
“Mind if I walk ye to yer room?”
“Nay.”
They walked beneath the light of widely spaced torches. His boots struck the stone in a steady rhythm while her skirts whispered beside him.
“How soon will everything change when me parents arrive?” she asked.
“The most important decision has been made,” he said. “The rest only requires witnesses and proper arrangements.”
“So me questions are no longer welcome?”
“It means we neednae renegotiate the same bargain every night.”
They reached her chamber before she could give a proper answer. She placed her hand on the handle, yet the fear Paisley had confessed earlier that morning would not allow her to let him leave.
“Paisley believes she will lose her place if yer new wife bears ye a child.”
Oscar paused. His shoulders stiffened beneath his coat, and his attention shifted toward the dark passage before returning to her.
“Ye daenae need to ken more than I have told ye. I have nay need for other children.”
The answer struck the wound Ceana had carried for years. Oscar wanted a woman who could care for his children. Her own failure would never trouble their bargain because he expected nothing from her beyond a public role.
There is little danger of me bearin’ one anyway, she wanted to say.
The confession rose in her throat, but she quickly swallowed it down. He had offered her a closed door where his own pain was concerned. She would not place her secret in his hands while he guarded his.
“What ye need doesnae answer Paisley’s fear,” she argued. “She believes another child could cost her yer affection and her security here.”
“She is me daughter. Her place is secure.”
“She has heard women discuss replacin’ Tommy as heir. One of them spoke of creatin’ a family with her own son while Paisley sat nearby. What should she believe when every new wife might regard her as belongin’ to the wife who came before?”
Oscar’s jaw tightened. “Their maither…”
He stopped, and Ceana waited until it became clear he would offer nothing more.
“Whatever happened to their maither still governs this family,” she said. “Yer children live with the consequences of somethin’ nay one will even mention.”
“Ye have been in me castle less than a week.” He moved closer, forcing her to tilt her face up. “Ye have challenged me at me table and before me men. Ye did it again in me study, and now ye stand outside yer bedchamber demandin’ answers I have chosen to keep private?”
“That is yer fault. Ye kidnapped the wrong woman if ye wanted silence.”
“And I continue to learn that every day.”
“Yet here we are.”
His gaze held hers while he closed the remaining distance. Ceana kept her hand on the handle, aware that one downward turn would open the door. She stayed where she was.
“’Tis simple. Just stop challengin’ me,” he said, his low voice skittering over her skin.
The previous night’s restraint had vanished from his face, leaving his mouth hard and his eyes dark.
“Do ye want me to stop because I am wrong or because I see ye for what ye truly are? For what ye avoid?” she asked.
Oscar planted one forearm against the door beside her head. His other hand found her waist, and the pressure of his palm drew her close enough for the heat of his body to seep through her clothes.
His gaze dropped to her lips while his thumb pressed into the curve of her waist. He bent until his breath warmed her mouth. Ceana slid her hand off the handle, closed her fist around the front of his shirt, and lifted her face.
Then he kissed her.
The first contact carried enough force to press her head against the door. He caught her lower lip between his and changed the angle, drawing a startled breath from her. Ceana tightened her fist and pulled him closer until his chest was flush against hers.
Her lips opened beneath his. Oscar accepted the invitation with a rough sound, and his tongue plunged into her mouth. The intimate stroke sent heat through her body, urging her onto her heels as she met him with her tongue.
His hand slid from her waist to her hip, where his fingers gripped her firmly. When he pressed closer, his hard length met her lower belly through his breeches.
The feeling made her arch into him.
Ceana caught his shoulder with her free hand while he curled his palm around her neck. His mouth remained open over hers, taking each breath she tried to draw as her fist pulled him harder against her.
This was a bad idea.
A terrible one, in fact.