Highlanders Collection. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
He rolled over, staring at her. Her deep-brown hair, like the warmth of polished walnut, fell against her linen shift. Pale milky skin held not a single freckle from the sun and he well remembered the taste of those soft lips.
Her hands moved over his chest and she directed him to turn onto his stomach. He felt the warmth of her lips upon his neck and a tremor brushed through him. She kissed his scars, tracing over the years of pain as if she could eradicate them with her fingers.
A slow heat built inside him; letting her explore his skin was a different form of torture. His body was heavy with need and he couldn’t endure much more of this.
Bram rolled over and sat up, her legs straddling his waist. He took possession of her mouth, as if to show her all of the desire he’d held back over the years. The taste of her was like sunlight to his shadows and he drew her closer. She was soft, warm, and he imagined lifting her hips to impale her with his shaft.
Her tongue tangled with his, and at her unexpected response his hands started shaking. He had caressed his way down to her bottom, and between her legs his fingers encountered moisture.
He wanted to delve inside her, to tempt her into surrendering. But it was too soon for that.
He could feel the control slipping away and pulled back, afraid of losing awareness. His breathing was shallow, his body rigid with need.
Uncertain eyes met his, as though Nairna didn’t know why he’d stopped. But it was too similar to the night when he’d let his mind slip into the shadows. He didn’t trust himself to join with her, not when his mind was dominated by lust.
He might hurt her again, when that was the last thing he wanted. For a moment, he rested his hands upon her spine, hoping to regain command of himself. But his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
‘I’m sorry for earlier,’ she whispered. ‘I never meant to offend you.’
She misunderstood the reason why he’d stopped, but he didn’t correct her. He didn’t want to reveal how close he’d come to the edge again.
He pulled her shift down lower, ignoring his body’s needs, and locking away the desire he longed to quench.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked, reaching for him.
He could see the hurt confusion in her eyes, but there was nothing he could say to ease her embarrassment. He couldn’t control his shaking hands, or his body’s fierce response to her.
‘It’s late, Nairna. Go to sleep.’ He turned away from her, wishing he could master his physical reactions.
Staring at the empty spaces between the wooden boards, he felt the warmth of her breasts pressing against his back. Her arm moved around his waist and he shoved back the instinctive need to touch her.
He couldn’t make love to her until he could control himself. It wasn’t safe and he didn’t want to risk hurting her.
He’d never forgive himself if he lost himself in the madness again.
The rope tightened across his throat, the hemp abrading the bloody skin. Bram’s vision blurred as they choked him and though he fought off the soldiers, the darkness closed in. He fought against death’s summons, willing himself to stay alive. He had to, for Callum’s sake. His brother hadn’t spoken in several weeks and he seemed lost in a world of his own madness.
With his feet, Bram kicked hard, sending the soldier stumbling upon the ground. Air blasted through his lungs and he nearly passed out as he fought to breathe.
A quarterstaff came down upon his shoulders and he gritted his teeth as the wood reverberated through his muscles, bruising his flesh. Through it all, Callum never stopped staring. His brother was only twenty years old, held captive since the age of thirteen. Too young to have witnessed so much pain and horror.
When the soldiers stopped beating him, Bram tasted blood and he crawled through the dirt to lie at his brother’s feet. He pushed away the pain, concentrating on one breath at a time. The cool dirt chilled his face, but eventually he gathered the strength to lift his head.
‘I’m going to get us out, Brother. I swear it on our father’s life. ‘
But Callum made no reply. The emptiness in his brother’s eyes spoke more than any words.
The vision faded away and Bram’s eyes were dry, staring into the grey morning light. Whether he’d fallen asleep or simply been caught up by the memory, he couldn’t be sure. His eyes ached and his muscles were rigid and sore.
Beside him, Nairna was fast asleep, her long hair covering one shoulder. For a long time he watched her sleeping. Despite their awkward living arrangements, he was grateful to have her near.
Slowly, he eased closer until her shoulders were pressed against his chest. She stirred slightly, but then snuggled back against him. The softness of her body made a tightness gather in his chest. Simply feeling the warmth of a human touch was something he hadn’t had in so long. He held her gently, for fear of waking her.
She hadn’t touched him with repulsion, as he’d thought she would. Nor had she shied away from lying with him—instead, she’d held him. He breathed in the soft scent of her skin, as if drawing strength from her.
But his mind taunted him for even thinking he could have a woman like Nairna. You don’t deserve a normal life. Or a wife and family. Not after what you did to Callum.
With reluctance, he let Nairna go and rose from his bed. Though it wasn’t yet dawn, he knew he wouldn’t find sleep again.
Nairna hardly saw Bram all that following morning and afternoon. She’d overheard him speaking to Alex about plans to rescue Callum, but she didn’t know when they would leave.
Did they honestly believe Bram could fight the English so soon? He hadn’t recovered from his imprisonment, and though there was muscle beneath his thin frame, he wasn’t strong enough to defeat his enemy.
Last night, she’d slept poorly, worrying about him. He’d seemed eager to make love with her, only to stop without any explanation of why. She didn’t know if she’d humiliated him with her unintended laughter. Or, worse, if she’d done something else wrong.
For a long time, she’d lain awake, her body needing his. She remembered the touch of his hands between her legs and the thought only conjured up more restless desire.
In the middle of the night, she’d awakened, only to find that Bram’s eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling.
How could anyone endure a life with so little sleep? It was no wonder his mind was still imprisoned.
She was a woman accustomed to taking care of people. At Ballaloch and Callendon, she’d ensured that everyone had enough to eat and everyone’s needs were met. No one went hungry if she could help it.
But Bram’s needs went beyond hunger and rest. He wasn’t a man she could fix with food or a soft mattress.
He needs you, a voice inside her reminded. Bram’s rough features hid a man she wanted to know. The scarring revealed his courage to survive. If she’d suffered the same imprisonment, she’d have given up within the first year.
But he hadn’t. He’d endured more than any man should have. And though the expression on his face was grim, holding years of fatigue, there was also determination.
He loved his brother and he wouldn’t fail him. She understood that sort of loyalty and respected it.
But would he hold the same loyalty towards their marriage when he discovered her childlessness? It already bothered him to no end that she was not a virgin. She could see the tension in his body, the hidden jealousy in his eyes.
And Bram was nothing like Iver. He tempted her, breaking down her resolves with his mind-stealing kisses and his rough hands. Even last night when she’d