Читать книгу Taming the Highland Rogue - Terri Brisbin, Terri Brisbin - Страница 6

Chapter Two

The noise woke him.

The scraping of something along the stone floor dragged him awake and Connor reached for the sword always by the bedside. Reaching out to draw Jocelyn closer, protecting her if necessary, he felt an empty bed. Pushing out of the bed, he gripped the sword before him and moved silently toward the sound. He heard her breathing before he saw her walking toward him from the shadow of the alcove.

“Jocelyn? What are you doing?” he asked, sliding the sword back in its scabbard. He took a candle over and lit it from the embers of the hearth, holding it up to brighten the chamber.

“I could not sleep,” she said, gathering a bed robe closer around her. “I thought to walk but there are too many visitors within the keep.” She looked back toward the darkened corner. “Then I decided to sit over there where I would not disturb your sleep.”

Something was not right.

He walked closer and saw the chair she’d dragged across the floor, waking him…and the strongbox not three feet from there. An unlit candle sat next to the box.

“Is aught wrong, Jocelyn?” he asked, watching her face in the flickering shadows thrown by the candle. He stepped closer and took her hand. “Is there something that is worrying you?”

Jocelyn looked as though she would answer, but then she shook her head, denying what he suspected.

“Is it the bairns?” he asked, waiting for some sign in her eyes of the matter at issue. Though she liked to believe she could bluff, he could read everything in her expressive eyes and on her face.

Their children were long since infants but ’twas their habit to call them such when speaking of them together. He thought Jocelyn tried to stave off the time when they would leave her side and have their own families. If it were so, he would not argue, for he knew she had the softest of hearts when it came to her—their—children. He even delayed speaking to her of his plans to send their youngest son, Adhamh, to foster with the Robertsons, their allies and Marian’s family, in Dunalastair for fear of causing her heartache.

“All is well, Connor,” she said, smiling at him. “Truly.”

She approached him, glancing down and making him realize he stood naked before her. He stepped back, but she followed, her hand outstretched now, reaching toward his chest. “I worry that all the arrangements will go well.” She did touch him then, sliding her fingers across his own nipples and making him hiss at such a caress.

“I worry about Ailsa and Angus and if their wedding day will be uneventful.”

“Do you mean unlike our own?” he asked, trying to lighten the seriousness in her voice now. Connor thought she must be concerned over all the preparations and how they would reflect on his honor as laird and earl. Jocelyn always put him first, ever since their marriage, and it would seem she did so now.

“Ours ended well,” she assured him, still teasing his skin with the tips of her fingers and acting as though she did not do it. His cock responded even as his skin tingled beneath her touch.

“If you consider your falling asleep and then calling me by another man’s name when I did bed you ending well, then…”

He laughed then, for she looked insulted at his words until the true memories of those first nights came back to her.