“Where is he?”
Evina’s eyes widened at that growl from Conran, and when his gaze landed on her, she pointed to Greer and Alick by the chests. They were the only “hes” in the room. Apparently though, they weren’t the “hes” in question. At least, that was the conclusion she came to when everyone suddenly began to move. Aulay and Geordie strode to the chests, drawing her attention when they opened them and began pulling out the dresses inside. She gaped at them briefly, and then shifted her attention back to Conran just in time to see him fall out of sight. Frowning, she shifted closer to the edge of the bed and peered over to see that he’d dropped to look under the bed.
“What is happening?” she asked as he straightened again.
Rather than answer, Conran glanced to his brothers, one eyebrow raised.
“Nothing,” Aulay said, dropping the gowns back into the chest he’d been searching even as Geordie closed the lid of the second one.
“So, he did get away,” her father said, sounding disappointed.
Evina frowned as she realized that they’d come here looking for her attacker. Obviously, they hadn’t found him in the passages, and she assumed they’d searched the other rooms before this one, so he’d got away. The thought made her reach subconsciously for the dirk she normally wore at her waist, but of course it wasn’t there.
“Yer head’s still bleeding,” Rory said into the silence that had fallen over the room, and Evina saw that he had moved to Conran’s side to examine the bleeding wound on the side of his head. Frowning, the healer headed for the door, muttering, “I’d best go get me medicinals.”
Evina eyed the wound with concern. It looked much worse than the blow she’d given him with her sword, or even from his falling off his horse. Before she could ask if he’d lost consciousness from the injury, Conran said, “We should move everyone from this room to Evina’s chamber so Laird Maclean can do what needs doing here.”
“Aye,” her father agreed. “Better to get it done now ere some distraction or other occurs and it gets overlooked.”
Evina didn’t have to ask what needed doing. She suspected her father would want to lock down the entrances to the hidden passage so that her attacker couldn’t return through them and harm anyone else. In fact, he’d probably done that with the other rooms ere reaching this one. At least, she thought the one in her room must be locked off, since the suggestion was they move there and not—
Her thoughts scattered on a grunt of surprise when Conran suddenly scooped her up off the bed. Evina instinctively grabbed for his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle to hold on as he straightened with her. She noticed the wince that crossed his face when she did, and then became aware of the dampness under the fingers of the hand on his left shoulder and lifted her hand to see warm, sticky blood covering her fingers.
“Ye’re bleeding,” Evina said with dismay.
“Aye,” Conran growled, and explained, “Someone pushed me down in the passage. I hit me head.”
“I’m no’ speaking about yer head. Yer shoulder is bleeding too,” she said, shifting in his arms in an attempt to get a better look at where the bleeding was coming from. Evina managed to glimpse the top of his upper back, but the plaid he wore was dark blue with dark red and dark green running through it and his long hair covered a good portion. Still, she did manage to see a large spreading darkness on his back.
“It’s sore,” he admitted. “I must have scraped it in the fall as well. ’Twill be fine.”
“Rory should look at it,” Evina said with concern as she moved her hand over his back and noted the cloth was sopping wet with blood.
“Rory would look at his head if me brother would stay still long enough for me to do so.”
Evina glanced around at that exasperated comment to see Rory ahead of them in the hall, his medicinal bag under his arm, a pitcher of liquid in one hand and bandages and linens in his other. It reminded her of his announcement that he’d get his medicinals and take care of Conran’s head wound.
“Nay, no’ his head. His back is bleeding something fierce,” Evina said, not hiding her concern.
“Good Lord! She’s right,” Alick said, hurrying up behind them to get a closer look at the back of Conran’s plaid.
“’Tis fine,” Conran growled, moving around Rory to continue up the hall.
“’Tis no’ fine,” Evina countered in a growl of her own. “Ye’re injured and need tending. Put me down. I can walk.”
“We’re almost there,” he argued, rather than do as she asked. When she scowled at him, Conran added, “And I like holding ye.”
Evina blinked, her anger softening at the claim. The words didn’t ease her concern, however, and she glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that Rory was following closely on their heels. His attention was on Conran’s back as he walked and the grim expression on his face told her Conran wasn’t “fine.” But she held her tongue until he had her in her chamber and was setting her down on the bed.
“Ye need to sit down,” she said solemnly, popping back to her feet and grabbing his hand to drag him toward the fireplace.
“Lass,” Conran began wearily as she led him to the table and chairs by the fire.
“Please,” Evina insisted, pulling out the nearest chair for him. “Just sit and let yer brother tend ye.”
Conran scowled, but sat down. However, he also caught the other chair around one leg with his foot and drew it closer. He then used her handhold on him to urge her into it as he added, “Only if ye distract me while he does.”
Evina merely nodded and remained in the seat, her fingers entangled in his.
“Well, I’m glad ye’re finally willing to sit still long enough for me to look after ye,” Rory said dryly. “But I can’t do it through yer plaid and shirt.”
Conran reached up to remove the pin of his plaid. Once it dropped to lie in his lap, he quickly tugged the shirt he wore under it up and off.
Evina remained seated facing him as he did this, her eyes the only thing that moved. They slid over the wide expanse of chest now bare before her with interest. She’d seen the man completely naked when she’d first kidnapped him, but hadn’t taken the time to study him. In fact, while he’d done the most intimate things to her, she’d never been this close to him without his shirt and plaid on while he was conscious. It was a sight to see, she decided. Enough to make her want to reach out and run her hands over all that muscled flesh.
“Ye weren’t punched, ye were stabbed in the back.”
Evina glanced sharply to Rory at that announcement and saw that he was frowning as he pressed clean linens to Conran’s back.
“How bad is it?” Aulay asked, appearing suddenly next to Rory, and Evina glanced around to see that everyone but her father had followed them to her room and were now moving to crowd around Rory to get a look at Conran’s back. Even as she noted that, her father entered the room. His first words proved he’d heard Rory’s announcement as he approached.
“The bastard! Trying to drown me daughter, and then stabbing her betrothed? Who the devil is he and what is he after?”
“I wouldn’t mind finding that out myself,” Conran said grimly. “That and how the hell he got away?”
“He must have got past ye on the stairs after pushing ye down them,” Aulay said quietly.
“Ye were pushed down the stairs?” Evina asked with dismay. All he’d said was he’d been pushed and taken a tumble; he hadn’t mentioned that the tumble was down the stairs in the passage. He was lucky he hadn’t broken his neck.
“I’m fine.” Patting her hand reassuringly, he turned to her father and added, “’Tis lucky I didn’t take ye down them with me . . . which I’ve been wondering about. Ye were in front of me on the stairs—how is it I didn’t knock ye down them?”
“Hmm?” Her father glanced to him with surprise, and then said, “Oh. Well, there are three shallow crevices spaced out in the inner wall between the top and bottom of the stairs. They’re just deep enough for a body to press into them to allow others to slip by. I was close to the first one when I heard ye falling behind me, and I pressed meself into it. I tried to catch ye as ye rolled by. I grabbed at ye, caught yer plaid, but . . .” He shook his head. “Yer plaid ripped, a strip tore free and ye kept going.”
“That’s how he got away,” Conran said into the silence that fell. “He must have pressed himself into one of the crevices while ye were helping me up down at the bottom. Without the torch to light the way, we must have walked right past him in the dark.”
“Damn,” her father growled with apparent surprise. “It ne’er occurred to me that he might ken about the crevices. But then, he should no’ have known about the passage either and he did.”
“Ye sent Donnan down to the clearing,” Evina pointed out. “If my attacker slipped past ye and continues down to the exit in the clearing . . .”
“Hopefully Donnan and the men will catch him,” the Maclean finished, and then he glanced toward the hidden entrance and narrowed his eyes. “Or he may be on his way back up, or simply hiding in the tunnel if he saw the area was flooded with men.”
“All the entrances to the bedchambers are locked now,” Conran pointed out. “If we position someone at the entrance behind the castle so he can’t leave, ye and I could ride down to the other entrance and enter that way. We could trap him and—”
“Ye aren’t doing anything o’ the kind,” Rory said firmly. “Ye’ve lost a good deal of blood with this injury, and I still have to remove the stone from yer head wound. I’m amazed ye’re yet sitting upright, but quite sure ye won’t be for long. Someone else will have to accompany Laird Maclean.”
“I’ll accompany ye, m’laird,” Aulay offered quietly, and when her father hesitated, he added with understanding, “Ye can even blindfold me for the ride out and until we get inside the actual tunnel if ’twould make ye feel better.”
Evina’s eyebrows rose at the offer. But then being a laird with his own castle that probably had its own secret tunnels, Aulay would understand that they were secret for a reason. Still, she wasn’t surprised when her father sighed and shook his head. “Yer brother will soon be me son by marriage. It makes ye family. I guess I can trust ye with the secret. There’s no need for a blindfold.”
Aulay merely nodded his head solemnly in acknowledgment of the trust the man was showing him.
“Ye’ll need to pad yer saddle, Laird Maclean,” Rory announced, tossing aside the cloth he’d been pressing against Conran’s back to stop the bleeding, and picking up an already threaded needle. “Take a length of cloth, roll it up and shape it in a circle, and then set it between ye and the saddle so that it’s around the wound on yer arse and keeps it from hitting the saddle as ye ride.”
“Me arse is fine,” her father muttered, turning to head for the door.
Rory shrugged and turned to begin stitching up Conran’s back. “Ye’re the one who will suffer if ye do no’ listen to me.”
Her father muttered something uncomplimentary about healers being as bad as women, but Evina noticed that rather than heading for the stairs when he left her room, he turned toward his room. Hopefully to fetch a plaid to roll up as Rory had suggested, she thought, and then glanced to Conran when he suddenly squeezed her hand almost painfully.
“Sorry,” he muttered, through tightly ground teeth. There was no mistaking the expression on his face as anything but pain. Rory was sewing now. A lousy thing to have to suffer through, Evina knew, and rubbed Conran’s hand gently to distract him.
There was silence in the room for a minute, and then Saidh suddenly released a soft chuckle.
“What’s so funny, sister?” Conran asked grimly.
“I was just realizing that no’ one of us so far has managed a wedding where the bride, or groom, or both, weren’t healing from wounds, bruises or poisoning.”
“Hmm,” Rory murmured dryly. “Ye have all shown a distressing tendency to pursue rather adventurous courtships so far.”
“Ye make it sound like we each looked around for the most troublesome partner and chose them for that reason,” Saidh said with a scowl.
“Well, ye didn’t pack up and leave when arrows started flying and people started getting stabbed as any sensible person would do, did ye?” he pointed out.
Saidh opened her mouth, looking ready to scald him with a tongue lashing, but then snapped her mouth shut and shook her head before saying, “I hope finding the partner ye marry goes much more smoothly than everyone else’s has so far, Rory. But if it doesn’t, I hope I’m there to remind ye o’ yer words on this day.”
Rory paused briefly, concern flickering across his face, but then went back to sewing up Conran’s back without responding.
Saidh’s words had made Evina curious, however, and she decided she’d have to ask her what they were talking about later. It sounded like there might be an interesting story or two in there somewhere, she thought, and then glanced to the door as Tildy hurried into the room carrying a full tray.
“I passed the laird and Aulay Buchanan on the way up and they said ye were all up in m’lady’s room now, so I brought the food and drink here. But some o’ ye may want to go below. Laird and Lady Carmichael just arrived and Cook has the women serving the nooning meal a little early for them after their journey.”
“Murine and Dougall are here?” Saidh asked with excitement.
“Aye,” Tildy said heavily as she reached the table and set down the tray she carried. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I’m no’ sure where I’ll put them to sleep though. Every room is taken now.”
“Move Conran in here and give them his room,” Greer suggested. “That way we’ll only have to guard one room.”
“And I’ll only have to visit one room to tend them both,” Rory added, apparently liking the idea.
“And Conran can protect Evina if someone gets past the guard at the door,” Saidh put in.
Eyes wide, Evina glanced from person to person as they listed the reasons Conran should stay in her room with her, and then looked to Tildy, expecting her to refuse the idea. After all, she and Conran weren’t married yet and might never be. Evina still hadn’t made up her mind about that. But much to her amazement, the woman considered the suggestion and then nodded. “Aye. If we’re lucky Laird and Lady Drummond will arrive this afternoon and the priest can marry them at dinner. If no’, Lord Conran can sleep on a pallet on the floor, and I could always sleep in here as well to act as chaperone. Aye. A good idea,” she said with satisfaction, and bustled out of the room, apparently to arrange for Conran’s room to be prepared for his brother and sister-in-law.
“I suppose we should go down for the nooning meal and greet Murine and Dougall,” Saidh said once the maid had left. Smiling at Evina, she promised, “But we’ll bring Murine up to meet ye after we eat, won’t we, Jetta?”
“Aye.” The petite woman smiled widely. “I think the two of ye will like each other.”
“Oh,” Evina said weakly, and then watched the two women bustle out of the room with Greer following.
“I suppose we can’t go eat?” Alick asked, looking uncertainly at Geordie. “We have to guard the door once Rory is done, right?”
“Go ahead,” Geordie said easily. “I’ll guard the door until ye’re done and then go down and eat once ye’ve finished and come up.”
“Thanks. I’m hungry,” Alick announced, and hurried from the room as if afraid Geordie might change his mind and retract the offer.
Evina glanced around with bemusement, amazed at how quickly the room had emptied. It had been crowded with people just moments ago, but now there was just Geordie, Rory, herself and Conran.
“Whoa!”
Evina glanced sharply to Rory at that sharp cry, her eyes widening when she saw him grabbing Conran by the arms as he started to topple sideways in the chair. Geordie immediately moved to his side to help hold their brother upright, and Evina shifted her gaze to Conran’s face, only she couldn’t see it. His head was bowed, his hair hanging down and hiding his features from her. Even as she noted that, Rory stepped to the side and caught him under the chin to lift his face, revealing that his eyes were closed and his face slack. He’d lost consciousness.
“Is he all right?” Evina asked with concern.
“Aye.” Rory let Conran’s head lower again and returned to his position behind his back to continue his work. “He lost a lot of blood. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. He just needs rest and some food to build his strength back up and he should be fine . . . so long as infection doesn’t set in,” he added.
Evina nodded and retrieved her hand from Conran’s to lean back in her chair with a sigh. Scents from the food on the tray Tildy had brought up were wafting around them. It smelled delicious, but she wasn’t really hungry. Instead, she was suddenly weary. A lot had seemed to happen this morning, and she was still recovering from her own wound.
“Geordie, help Evina to bed. She’s still recovering and should be resting,” Rory instructed without seeming to even glance her way.
“I can manage on me own,” she said quickly when Geordie started to release the hold he had on Conran. Smiling at the man, she added, “And Rory needs ye to help with Conran.”
When Geordie hesitated, she patted his arm and stood to shuffle to the bed, not leaving him a choice. Evina managed the short walk, but was glad to reach the bed when she did. She was still ridiculously weak. Sitting as she had been, she’d felt fine, but the moment she exerted the least little effort, her strength slid out of her like water out of a tipped bucket. Although she hadn’t seemed to have that problem when she’d urged Conran across the room to the table. She supposed worry and adrenaline had given her strength then.
Sighing, Evina lifted the linens and furs and climbed into bed without removing Saidh’s gown. She hated to do it, but she wasn’t taking it off with Conran and his brothers there. As it was, Evina half expected that she’d be so uncomfortable in the gown that she’d have trouble falling to sleep. She thought she’d lie awake until the two brothers left and she could remove it, but she’d barely slid into her bed, curled up on her side and closed her eyes and she was drifting off to sleep.
Conran woke up abruptly. He wasn’t sure at first what had drawn him from sleep, until something moved against his groin, drawing his attention. Glancing down with confusion, he stared at the furs stacked on top of him and noted that they looked somewhat lumpy. Reaching for the linens and furs, he started to lift them as one and froze as he realized the lump was Evina. She was completely buried under the coverings, even her face hidden where her cheek rested against his chest. The woman was curled around him like a cat, her arm across his chest, and one leg thrown over his hips. She was completely dressed, he saw, but the gown she wore had risen and was tangled around her hips. And while he was in his shirt, which when standing reached past his groin, it too had risen and was presently tangled around his hips as well, leaving his family jewels exposed.
Sighing sleepily, Evina shifted again, her leg sliding across his groin once more, and Conran eased the linen and furs back into place and just laid there. Unmoving. Hardly breathing, as he debated what to do.
He didn’t want to disturb her, but now that he was awake, Conran was becoming aware of several different needs. He was hungry. He was also thirsty, but more importantly, he had a serious need to relieve himself just at that moment. On top of that, the way she kept rubbing up against him was stirring other needs as well.
When Evina murmured sleepily and shifted restlessly against under the coverings, Conran almost groaned, and then couldn’t take it anymore and carefully eased out from under her and the coverings both. He was immediately sorry when the movement sent sharp pain through his shoulder, but didn’t stop until he was out and standing next to the bed.
Conran peered down at the stack of furs then, wondering how Evina could breathe under there. His next thought was to wonder how he had ended up in bed with her. The last thing he recalled was Rory working on the wound on his back at the table by the fire. He had a vague recollection of a discussion about his moving to her room to make way for Dougall and Murine, but thought the suggestion had been for him to sleep on a pallet on the floor. How had he ended up in the bed rather than on a pallet?
Shaking his head over that, Conran turned away from the bed and headed for the door. He needed to use the garderobe quite urgently. Any other questions could be dealt with after that.
Conran found Geordie and Alick outside the door when he opened it. Geordie was sleeping on a pallet across the doorsill, Alick on another in front of him. It made it impossible to get out without stepping on one of them, which he supposed was the point. No one could get in past them either. He was considering retreating into the room to see if there was a chamber pot anywhere when Geordie’s eyes suddenly popped open. Spotting him, his brother immediately sat up.
“Ye’re awake,” Geordie said softly as he got to his feet.
“Aye,” Conran murmured, slipping into the hall and pulling the door closed as Alick rolled over and started to rise as well.
“Ye must be hungry,” Geordie commented. “Ye slept through both the nooning and the sup.”
“Aye,” Conran admitted, but he was already moving past his brothers toward the end of the hall where the garderobe was. “I’ll be right back.”
Leaving them by the door, he hurried away to tend to his needs.
Geordie stood alone outside the door to the bedchamber by the time he returned, and when Conran raised his eyebrows, he explained, “Alick went below to search out some food and drink fer ye.”
Conran grunted at that, and asked, “What happened when Aulay and the Maclean searched the passages again? Did they find the bastard who tried to drown Evina?”
Geordie shook his head. “There was no’ a trace of him in the passage or the clearing.”
“Damn,” Conran breathed with a frown, and then muttered, “Where the hell did he go?”
“The best we could come up with is that he slipped out before the men got to the clearing, or that he managed to hide himself until they gave up and left the area,” Geordie said, and then added, “But Laird Maclean and Aulay went down and locked the outer entrance from inside when they got back. He’ll no’ get back in the keep that way.”
“Well, that’s something anyway,” Conran murmured, and then asked, “Did he have any idea who it might be?”
“They all seem to be going with the idea that ’twas the bandit who got away after attacking ye and Evina outside the bailey,” Geordie said with a shrug.
“Aye, but why?” Conran asked grimly. “Bandits generally stick to attacking travelers or people caught outside the gates. They don’t take the risk of following their victims in the castle. And if they did get in the castle, you’d think they’d steal something and sneak back out, no’ try to drown the lady of the house and leave empty-handed.”
“That’s true,” Geordie agreed, a frown now curving his lips too. “’Tis odd behavior at best.”
“Aye,” Conran murmured. They were both silent for a moment, considering that, and then Conran asked, “How did I end up in Evina’s bed? I thought I was to take a pallet in her room?”
“Ye were awake for that part, were ye?” Geordie asked with amusement, and then explained, “There was no pallet there when Rory finished working on you. No one thought to bring one up. The bed was big, and Evina wasn’t taking up more than a quarter of the one side, so we just put yer shirt back on ye and tucked ye in on the other side.”
Conran arched an eyebrow. “Does Laird Maclean ken?”
“Aye,” Geordie assured him. “He was pleased to ken ye’re in there in case of another attack.”
A footfall caught his ear then and Conran glanced toward the stairs to see Alick just stepping onto the landing carrying a tray of food and drink. It looked to be enough for two, he noted.
As they watched him approach, Geordie murmured, “Aulay said to tell ye that Dougall and Murine arrived today in case ye hadn’t heard that. He also said to tell ye that he expects Niels and Edith to arrive tomorrow, so he hopes ye’ve completed that project ye were working on.”
Conran glanced to him sharply, opened his mouth, closed it again and sighed. He knew exactly what project Aulay was referring to—bedding Evina so she knew it wasn’t the painful ordeal her first time had been. Unfortunately, he hadn’t got that far.
“He also said to tell ye if ye haven’t, then to get to it. He does no’ wish to see ye left at the altar by a runaway bride,” Geordie added.
Conran cursed under his breath, and turned to take the tray from Alick as he reached them.
“I got enough food for Evina too, and I got her mead and, you, ale,” Alick announced as he gave up the tray.
“Thank ye,” Conran said with sincerity, and turned to the door as Geordie opened it for him.
“Good luck, brother,” Geordie said as he pulled the door closed behind him.
Conran took several steps into the room with the food and then stopped, his gaze sliding from the bed to the table by the fire. There was already a tray on the table, he noted, and vaguely recalled Tildy bringing it in while Rory was working on him. It didn’t look like it had been touched and he supposed that meant that Evina hadn’t eaten anything either since his injury. Actually, he realized, while he’d broken his fast, she’d not even done that ere she was attacked. It was probably why she was still sleeping, he thought, and headed for the bed.
Conran set the tray on the bedside table and then eased to sit on the bed next to the pile of furs and considered the mound of coverings briefly before starting to remove them. Once down to just the linen, he paused. Evina was visible now. The linen started just below her chin and draped over her body, outlining her curves. Conran swallowed, and then grimaced as he was recalled to one of the other needs he’d become aware of when he woke. Thirst. Turning, he grabbed the nearest mug off the tray and raised it to his mouth. It was the ale, so he gulped a good amount of it down, and released a little sigh as he set the mug back.
He turned to peer at Evina again. She was quite lovely in sleep, Conran noted. Her stubborn little chin was more relaxed, and there was no sign of anger, impatience or fear shadowing her features. Although a lot of that had eased from her expression this last week since he’d started his wooing anyway. It hadn’t completely left her though. There had still been a hint of wariness about her and the occasional troubled look that had made him suspect she hadn’t quite resigned herself to marrying him.
Although, in truth, Conran didn’t want her resigned to the fact that she had to marry him. The more he got to know her, the more he found he actually wanted to marry Evina, and the more he wanted her to want to marry him. She fired his blood. The few lessons he’d managed regarding the bedding had left him aching and wanting, and he was eager to progress to the actual joining. He knew without a doubt that it would be good this time and that their marriage bed could be a place of pleasure.
But it was more than that. Conran actually liked the woman. He’d enjoyed the talks they’d had while playing games here in her room as she healed, and he’d come to admire her. She was smart, and brave, with a quirky sense of humor that he appreciated, and Conran had quickly concluded that they would deal well together once he got her past the fear of the marriage bed that their first time had created. It had quickly become clear to him that Evina threw herself into everything she did with passion and pleasure. That was part of the reason their first time in the clearing had been such a debacle. She’d been uninhibited, and responded eagerly to him, and he’d assumed that was a result of her experience rather than her nature and gone too quickly. But that passion and eagerness would serve them well in the marriage bed once he proved to her that the pain she’d experienced was just the breaching, a one-time thing. He felt sure her resistance and wariness regarding their marrying would fall away once he showed her that the joining could be as pleasurable as the other lessons he’d taught her.
Conran glanced to the mead Alick had put on the tray and back to Evina, debating whether to wake her with kisses and caresses and seduce her, or to just wake her to eat and drink, and then try to seduce her. The latter option was probably what he should do, he thought, but it would give her a chance to raise her guards again and she looked so soft and open in sleep . . .
Evina sighed sleepily and turned onto her back, her body stretching under the caressing hand moving along her side and down her hip. At first, she thought she was still asleep and dreaming, but then that hand moved back up her body to tug her gown and tunic off one shoulder and down her arm, baring her uninjured breast. When a hand then closed over what had been revealed, the last of sleep’s grip slipped away and Evina opened her eyes on a small gasp, her body instinctively arching upward into the caress.
“Ye’re so damned beautiful.”
She blinked at those softly whispered words and focused on Conran. He was seated next to her on the bed, clad in only his shirt, she noted, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should be. At least her body seemed to think so as it hummed under his attention.
“Are ye thirsty?” he asked softly.
Evina met his gaze, but hesitated to answer. His fingers had found and begun to pluck at her hardening nipple and it was causing complete chaos in her body. Partially a result of the excitement he was stirring, and partly in anticipation of the wild pleasure she knew could follow if this continued. Unfortunately, now that he’d mentioned it, Evina realized she was absolutely parched and, after a moment, she reluctantly nodded.
As she’d feared, Conran immediately stopped his caressing. His hand slid away and then under her shoulder to ease her upright as he quickly rearranged both pillows on the bed so that she could lean against them. He then turned away to reach toward a tray on the bedside table.
Evina glanced down at herself. The lacings of her gown were undone and it, and her tunic, were still hanging off one shoulder, leaving her breast bare. She considered covering it up, but then decided that was rather like closing the stable door after the horse was out and turned her attention to the tray instead. She noted the drinks, but also the food, and felt her stomach stir with interest. But then Conran picked up one of the drinks and offered it to her.
Evina accepted it with a whispered, “Thank ye,” and lifted it to her mouth to drink, her eyes widening when he tugged his shirt up and off over his head. She watched him toss it aside, and then turned her gaze to his naked chest as she drank thirstily. But she nearly choked on her drink in surprise when Conran then suddenly bent his head and claimed the nipple he’d been caressing, his mouth closing over it and drawing on it gently.
Swallowing quickly, Evina watched, mesmerized, as he let it slide free of his lips so that he could lick, nip and suck it back in again. But then he let it slide free once more and straightened to tap the bottom of her mug, silently urging her to drink again. Evina automatically took another swallow of the sweet mead, and then watched as he took the drink and set it back on the tray.
“How is yer wound?” Conran asked as he turned back. His tone was casual, as if they weren’t sitting there, him naked, and her with one breast out.
“Fine,” she said, and then cleared her throat when the word came out a husky whisper.
“Sore?” he asked.
Evina shook her head and he smiled, and then kissed her. It was a sweet, questing kiss at first, his mouth drifting over hers before settling and pressing more firmly as he eased her gown and tunic off her other shoulder. Both of her arms were down at that point, and the material slid down both arms and off her hands too when she lifted them. It left the material to gather around her waist, leaving her bare from there up. She didn’t get to fret over that long before Conran distracted her by sliding his tongue out to rub along the seam between her lips. Evina forgot all about her clothing and opened her mouth to him.
The tone of the kiss immediately altered, becoming more demanding as Conran slanted his mouth over hers and thrust with his tongue. Evina sighed into his mouth and returned that demand as her hands found and smoothed over his chest. Dear God, he was beautiful, she acknowledged as she caressed and felt the muscles of his chest and stomach, before sliding her hands around his neck.
When Conran began to ease her down to lie on her back, Evina clung to him with both hands and lips, and then gasped into his mouth as his hands began to move over her, caressing, tweaking and kneading her eager flesh. Her response became increasingly desperate as his hands moved lower. She felt one drift under the hem of her gown and then glide upward, pushing it and then the tunic too up over her hips. Evina sighed and shifted her legs restlessly, and then gasped and closed her legs when his hand drifted back down to slide between her legs.
Conran responded by breaking their kiss and trailing his mouth across her cheek and down her neck. But his hand continued to press between her legs, his palm moving back and forth against her core, until her legs unlocked and shifted restlessly before settling with her feet flat on the bed so that she could lift her hips into the caress. When his mouth found her breast again, her attention was divided between the two areas of pleasure he was causing, but then his mouth continued down. It drifted over her trembling stomach, and then farther, and in the next moment his hand had stopped pressing against her core and, instead, shifted to one thigh. Then his other hand pressed firmly against the other thigh, urging her legs wide open, Evina stiffened and held her breath and then released it on a soft cry when his mouth descended and he began to lash her damp, eager flesh.
Within moments Evina was a thrashing, frenzied wild thing in the bed, her breath coming in gasps and pants, her head twisting and body writhing under his ministration as she struggled toward the pleasure he offered. And then she stiffened, her body going as hard as a board, with just the faintest tremor before beginning to convulse and shudder as she found her release.