noted his height when he had taken hold of her, so that was no surprise, but his piercing green eyes and strong chin and even smile were.
She looked up and realized that she had been gawking…and he had noticed. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her sweaty palms over her own robe.
“Although your maid said you preferred ale, I brought this wine to share with you. ‘Tis a gift from the Bruce to honor our marriage.”
The man walked toward her, carrying two goblets. Lara’s first instinct was to knock the cups from his hands, for drinking the Bruce’s wine would be an insult to those in her clan who had died this day. From the firm set of his chin, she knew that Sebastien would not tolerate that behavior from her. He had promised retribution against those she loved if she did not do as he told her, and she believed that he would seek it.
“I admire self-control.” He made a mock salute after handing her one of the goblets.
“I do not know what you mean, sir.” She lowered her gaze to the cup she now held.
“You wished to knock the wine from my hands at the mention of the Bruce. I am pleased that you exercised control over that wayward plan.”
“Am I so easy to discern?”
“Nay, lady. But as one who struggles with the same weakness, I recognize it quickly in others.” He stepped closer and guided her cup to her lips. “Try the wine before condemning it for its giver.”
Lara sniffed at the goblet, wondering if he had drugged it with some herb to make her more compliant for what he planned.
“Does the wine smell turned?” He sniffed at his own and frowned, then sipped it. “What think you wrong with it?” He gazed into her eyes, and then he nodded as he seem to read her thoughts once more. “You think I have drugged yours? To what purpose?”
Sebastien stepped back and took her wine. He drank deeply from it and then handed it back to her.
“If I want you dead or intend to strike at you, wife, you will see it coming. I do not hide behind the cowardly art of poison. You will know if…when you are my target.”
He turned from her and walked to the window in her chamber. Leaning an elbow on the frame, he stared out at the gathering dusk and drank the rest of his wine. Lara knew he was angry now. She saw it in his stance and in the way that the muscles of his neck tightened as he gritted his teeth.
“Sir, I meant no insult.”
He laughed and looked at her. “You think I would drug you into submission, and then say you insult me not?” His laugh turned sarcastic. “Lady, your barbs are like weapons and you wield them with amazing accuracy.”
Their gazes held this time and he moved closer to her. She knew that her actions determined his treatment of so many of her people. She could live through whatever he planned for her. She was a MacDougall and would not shirk from what needed to be done. If lying with this man was the price for her life and those of her siblings and father, she could do it.
Lifting her goblet to her mouth, she tilted it and drank the contents in one long swallow. Drops of wine collected on her lips when she lowered the cup, and she thought to lick them off, but his mouth was there first. Warm and firm, he pressed his lips to hers. As she felt the tip of his tongue slide over her mouth, and a heated pulsing begin to move through her, she pulled away.
“I know my duty, sir. I do not need your wine to ease my way in this.” If he did not like subterfuge, he would get none from her in this matter. The quicker done the better; once bedded and their vows sealed, she would finally see her brother and sister…if he kept his word. “I will not fight you.”
Lara handed him back the goblet and walked to the side of her bed. At first, she thought to climb on top. But, if they lay on the thick woolen covers, the sign needed to prove consummation would not be apparent. So she tugged the blankets out of the way and climbed on the fine linen sheets that covered her bed. Careful to gather her robe about her, she lay down and closed her eyes.
And she waited.
No sound filled the chamber except the crackling of the wood in the brazier. She was certain he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Still, he made no move or any sounds. Lara felt the tension grow inside of her. It was difficult to breathe and her skin tingled as the coolness of the room penetrated the thin material of the dressing gown she wore. She longed to pull the thick layer of blankets over her, but she did not.
And still she waited.
She was beautiful and intelligent and proud. She was loyal to her people and she was a skilled tactician in her own right. And she was his now.
And she was terrified.
Oh, his wife would never admit to it, but he could read that in her gaze and in her stance when he entered the room. It was obvious to him until she gathered her self-control and banished the fleeting glimpse of terror within those deep blue eyes. Then, to his surprise, she climbed onto the bed and placed herself like the sacrifice she was on the pristine white sheets. Although what he must do would embarrass her, he would rather not have to humiliate her before her people and the Bruce’s men.
He liked the challenges that she presented to him at every step of the way. Sebastien could not let them go unmet, but he learned more about her and the way her mind worked every time she resisted him and his orders.
Sebastien walked the few steps to the bed and gazed down at Lara. Her form was certainly pleasing to him. The dressing gown hid little from his eyes, and her position offered an enticing view of her lush breasts and shapely legs. Her blond hair spilled around her like waves, on the pillows and the bedcovers, tempting him to feel it and smell it. Bedding her would be no hardship to him. Catching a glimpse out the window at the sun as it moved toward the sea, he knew he had little time to dawdle at the task.
Sebastien untied his robe and let it drop to the floor. He sat next to her on the bed, forcing her to move.
“Sir, you may use the other side,” she squeaked as she looked through lowered lashes at him. “You are naked!”
“I will take the side nearest the door, Lara. Move now.”
He did laugh as she scrambled across the bed and positioned herself as far away from him as possible, all without looking directly at him. He granted her the reprieve of pulling up a sheet to cover them, and then he reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Now, wife, come closer.”
He slowly pulled her nearer to him until she lay next to him, her soft robe touching his leg. Sebastien reached down and untied the belt holding it together and tugged it free. She began to struggle as she realized his intent, but he paused.
“I intend no ravishment this evening, Lara. If you follow my lead, you may find the joy that exists in the joining of a man and a woman.”
“I have no choice in this, sir. You are stronger than I and can force your will on me whenever you choose to. You hold my family as prisoners and use my actions to decide their fates. And you say this is not taking me against my will?”
Her voice shook as she spoke the words. She was correct—she had no choice. But then, neither did he. He had never forced himself on any woman, and doing it now would surely make her his enemy. But, more important to him at this moment,
