have to thank the man. “And you, my lady? Now that you’ve met me, what do you think of me?”
“That you’re one of the most arrogant men I’ve ever encountered.”
It was like falling into a freezing stream.
Before he could think of a suitable response, the door to the kitchen banged open, and a shaft of light nearly caught them. With a gasp, Riona ran farther back into the garden, to a place by the inner curtain wall deep in shadows.
Not willing to let this conversation end with her condemnation, Nicholas followed her to her hiding place, standing directly in front of her so that she was blocked from sight by his body. She was breathing rapidly, her rising and falling breasts pressing against her gown.
Her hair smelled of spring blossoms, natural and wholesome.
His annoyance lessened.
A servant hurried past without seeing them, yet when he was gone, neither of them moved.
“You don’t find me the least bit attractive or intriguing?” he whispered.
“No.”
“I think you do.”
She looked to either side, then tilted her head to regard him with unwavering steadiness. “I have no particular interest in you at all. We’re here because my uncle was convinced we should come, and I didn’t have the heart to refuse.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Which would be further proof of your arrogance, if I needed it.”
“Then why have you stayed in the garden?”
“Because I saw no reason to flee. Should I be afraid of you, my lord?”
God’s rood, she had an aggravating way of accusing him. “Of course you needn’t fear me. I’m a knight sworn to protect women, not harm them.”
“Perhaps you should remind some of your fellow Normans of that part of their oath.”
He didn’t want to discuss the vows of Norman knights. Despite her words, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she was dizzy. Or begged him to take her to his bed.
“What of your potential brides, my lord?” she continued. “What if you’re seen here in the garden with me? I don’t care what your Norman friends think, but shouldn’t you? They probably already question your judgment for allowing my uncle and me to stay. What will they conclude if they hear we’ve been together, and so intimately, too? And what of the ladies? They may think twice about offering themselves to you.”
His annoyance kindled into anger. “This is my castle, and I will do what I will.”
“Not if you’re to get yourself the sort of bride you’re after,” she replied, apparently not a whit disturbed by his tone. “I can hear them now.” She continued in a slow, haughty drawl, in an amazingly accurate imitation of Lady Joscelind. “And the fellow had the effrontery, the audacity, the sheer bad taste, to actually talk to that poor Scot and his niece—and be alone with her, too. Really, what can he be thinking, consorting with those outrageous barbarians?”
“My guests are well aware they’re in Scotland when they’re in Dunkeathe,” he retorted.
“They may be able to tolerate staying in your fortress, but they have no respect for the Scots.”
“I have,” he replied, not willing to be lumped in with the other Norman noblemen. “My sister married one.”
“I had heard, my lord, that you didn’t approve of her marriage.”
His jaw clenched before he answered. “In the beginning, I didn’t. But I’ve come to admire and respect my brother-in-law and his people. I’m also grateful to your king, who gave me this estate. The woman I marry will come to respect the Scots, too,” he finished firmly.
She still seemed unimpressed. “Yet I can’t help noticing, for all this supposed respect you feel for the Scots, that you neither said nor did anything to demonstrate that respect to your Norman guests when my uncle and I were in your hall.”
“Because I saw no need,” Nicholas countered. “You were managing quite well on your own. As for your uncle, I treated him with no disrespect, even when he barged into my solar while I was discussing business with my steward.”
Her gaze faltered at last. “You must forgive my uncle his enthusiasm. He means well and—”
“And I mean what I say,” Nicholas interrupted. “I think the Scots are a fine people—for the most part. I don’t forget that my sister’s own brother-in-law betrayed her and her husband, and that there were many in their clan who sided with the traitor.
“I also don’t forget all the years that I was poor and treated just as you have been, by Normans like my guests. Never think that because I say nothing, I do not see. That because I don’t chastise my guests, I condone what they do.
“But God’s blood, Riona, I’ve served and fought and struggled for too long to give a damn about gossip. If I want to linger in my garden on a moonlit night, I shall.”
He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her close. “If I want to be alone with you and talk to you, I will. And if I want to kiss you…”
He captured her mouth with his. His lips moved over hers with torrid heat as the desire he’d been trying to contain burst free.
For a moment, she was stiff and unyielding.
For a moment, until she began to return his kiss with equal fervor. Her arms went around his waist, pulling him closer, enflaming his passion further.
She was bold in this, too, just as he’d imagined. Daring and more stimulating than any woman he’d ever kissed, her lips and body filled with the same fire as her eyes. He could feel the need coursing through her, as it was through him.
His tongue pressed her lips to open, then smoothly glided inside. Her embrace tightened.
Drunk with desire, aware only of his need to feel her warmth around him, and the throbbing surge of completion, he moved his hand to seek her breast.
The instant he touched her there, she broke the kiss and pushed him away. Her eyes wide with dismay, her lips swollen from their passion, she stared at him as if he were a loathsome thing.
Without a word, not even another condemnation, she shoved her way past him and marched out of the garden.
While Nicholas stood where he was, panting and frustrated. God’s blood, he never should have entered the garden.
Restraint, indeed!
THE FIRST RAYS of the morning sun were lighting Riona’s chamber when she heard a soft tapping at her door.
“Riona, my dear, are you still asleep?” Uncle Fergus called quietly as she shook her head as if to rid it of the remnants of her dreams.
What little
