Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

“ A re you waiting until my brother has sired an heir on you to kill him?”

Shock caused Esyllt to swivel round. Matthew was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A smirk was floating on his lips. How had she thought that he would leave her alone after the confrontation with Branwen the day before?

“K-kill him?” she stammered.

“Don’t look so shocked, lady. Connor told me what you did to your first husband. I wasn’t overly surprised, I must say. Except for one thing, that you actually told him.” He tilted his head in what could have passed as respect if she hadn’t known he despised her.

“Oh, you think I should have let him think I was a meek, harmless woman?” she snapped. The man grated on her nerves and she didn’t see why she should spare him from her ire, or tell him the truth about Gwyn’s death.

“It would have been wiser, though I am not sure how long the pretense would have held. You don’t have a meek bone in your body, that much is clear, and I’m not sure you’re harmless.” He nodded as if pondering the matter. “So what will you do to him? Dispose of him once he has given you the son you need to replace him?”

“You are a fool if you think I will discuss this with you.”

But the question made Esyllt think. Evidently, and despite their closeness, Connor had not told his brother that they had yet to consummate their marriage properly. Neither of their scandalous encounters could have led to a pregnancy, but Matthew seemed to believe that she was in a position to fall with child, an assumption she didn’t want to contradict. He would only use it against her, attributing Connor’s failure to consummate the marriage to a fault on her part.

“Fortunately for him, my brother seems incapable of fathering anything other than girls, so you might have to wait a while until you are rid of him.”

Girls.

Esyllt’s heart sank. Jane was the only child he had brought home. She had jested about him bringing his other children to her, not thinking he would actually have any. Now she knew different. Just how many by-blows did Connor have, scattered along the width and breadth of England? She gritted her teeth. This was not a discussion she was prepared to have, least of all with a man who would enjoy her discomfiture. He wanted to hurt her. Why else would he have brought up such a painful topic?

“If you will excuse me, I have other things to do than stay here and listen to your insults.” She made to walk past him, fully expecting him to try and stop her. It did not surprise her therefore when he took hold of her arm. “Kindly let me pass,” she demanded, doing her best not to flare up. Who did he think he was? She was in her own castle, and Connor’s wife, not his. He had no right to detain her.

“My brother is being too soft on you. Your womanly charms cloud his judgment. It is understandable, I suppose, since you are uncommonly pretty.” Matthew leaned in closer. “But I will not make the same mistake. You do not sleep in my bed and therefore are not in a position to lull me into submission with your wiles.”

Connor, submissive! She actually snorted. The man was the epitome of the dominant male. How could his brother doubt it?

“I do no such thing!” Was everyone determined to consider her a fast woman using her body to gain what she wanted? Could they not see she would have no idea where to start, even supposing such an idea had crossed her mind?

“I will be watching you, Lady Sheridan. Very closely. You are bound to make a mistake sooner or later.”

Esyllt felt tears sting her eyes but didn’t want to let him suspect him how much his insults had hurt her. She straightened her spine. “I asked you to release me, I believe.”

“You are?—”

“Matthew. If you do not unhand my wife on the instant, I will make you wish you had stayed in England.”

Esyllt turned in time to see Connor amble into the room. The look on his face was calm but deadly. It was just like it had been with Gruffydd the previous day. How was he always at hand to offer his help? Was it mere coincidence or was he actually spying on her because he was as suspicious of her as his brother? She had never wondered about it before but in that moment she did not care. The important thing was that she would be free from Matthew’s venom.

With obvious reluctance, her brother-in-law released her and took a step backward.

“Forgive me, Brother. But I don’t trust her.”

“I know you don’t.” The smile floating on Connor’s lips proved he had heard the same thing over and over again. “But you are not to manhandle her for all that. She is not only a woman but also my wife. Violence will not solve anything.”

Esyllt worked hard at hiding her surprise. He was taking her defense against a man he had grown up with, a man he loved and respected. That was unexpected. Something flashed in his eyes. She wondered if it was amusement.

“I’m glad to see that you do not believe in resorting to violence to tame your enemies,” she said when it became clear he was expecting an answer from her.

“I did not quite say that. But you are not my enemy.”

“Am I not?”

His lips quivered, and she realized that she had been right. He was amused. “Even if you were, you are a woman. That places you safely out of my reach. And you are my wife. Whatever our disagreements, I will not allow anyone to disrespect you, even my own brother.” His gaze flicked toward Matthew, who did not seem best pleased at this declaration.

She, however, appreciated it at full value.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Esyllt was more confused than ever. He had taken her defense against Gruffydd the day before, but that was understandable. He would have enjoyed using this opportunity to put a man he felt no love toward back in his place. But this intervention was less easily explained. Aside from his daughter, Matthew was the person Connor cared for most in this world. Why would he place her above him?

Matthew seemed to ask himself the same question. He appeared shocked, as if up until then Connor had never disagreed with him. This small victory over a man she disliked pleased her.

“You know,” he said, looking at her and Connor in quick succession. “You both have green eyes. You cannot see it of course but I, who is looking at you at the same time, can see it all too well.”

“What are you blabbering on about?” Connor snapped, clearly as nonplussed as she was by the unexpected comment.

“Yours are clear, almost transparent, and Lady Sheridan’s are a deep emerald, but make no mistake, they are both green.”

With those enigmatic words, he left.

“Does he often say things like that?” Esyllt asked her husband. “He seemed to think there was a point to his declaration.”

“He certainly did, even if I can’t for the life of me see what it could be. And no, he is usually very pragmatic, not at all the type of man to start referring to a lady’s eyes as ‘deep emerald’.”

“Why did you take my defense against him?” she couldn’t help but ask when silence descended between them. “He didn’t seem to like it.”

Connor let out what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, as if the notion pleased him. “He did not. But why would you complain that I did? I did not hear you complain when I defended you against Gruffydd yesterday.”

“I’m not complaining, and you know very well that was different. You don’t like Gruffydd.”

“Are you suggesting that you think I will fulfil my role as a husband only when it suits me, with people I don’t like?”

“No, and you know full well what I mean!” Esyllt shook her head in irritation. Would they ever be able to have a discussion without him trying to confuse her? “I get the impression that you wanted to help me less than you wanted to put him back in his place.”

“Perhaps I did, and can you blame me? The man is every inch the intractable Welshman I was told to expect, without any of the charm that could entail. I can respect a man wanting to protect his people, a man who values his freedom above everything else, but that old goat cares less about his country than he does about his own privileges.”

His mouth twitched and Esyllt knew he had indeed enjoyed putting Gruffydd back in his place. And no, she could not blame him for it because she thought the same thing. Hadn’t she called Gruffydd an old goat in her mind many a time?

“Tell me. Is he telling the truth? Were you two really betrothed?” Connor asked, coming to stand right in front of her.

“No, not to my knowledge.” Esyllt had almost forgotten the outrageous claim. And she didn’t like being reminded of it.

“You sound mighty relieved, I must say.”

“That’s because I am.”

“So an Englishman, a stranger, is preferable to your old Welsh friend as a husband. Be sure that I appreciate the compliment at its full value.” Connor gave a little bow.

“It’s not a compliment,” she said weakly, unsettled by the light flashing in his eyes. His “transparent eyes”, as Matthew had rather aptly called them.

“Indeed it is not. Saying that you chose to marry me rather than a self-centred, hot-headed brute is hardly flattering.”

“And not true either. I had no say in this decision, as you reminded me only the other day. I did not choose you for any qualities you might possess.”

Connor barked a laugh when she had expected him to flare up. “Oh no, I will not fall into that trap, my lady. I will not presume to tell you what you should think of me. I will leave you to decide on your own what my qualities might be.”

“A hazardous decision, as I may not find any.”

Esyllt wondered what was urging her to tease him so, and then she understood. She was enjoying herself. As was her husband, if the twisted lips and glittering eyes were any indication. As unlikely as it was, they were deriving equal pleasure from their verbal jousting.

“I will take that risk. I’m fairly confident that you will find at least one or two redeeming qualities about me. If not, then so be it.”

“So be it. We are married now.”

Or were they? Technically, the marriage had not been consummated yet. To her relief, he did not point that out. Instead, he drew her into his arms. The move was so unexpected that she did nothing to stop him. For a moment he just held her tight and she focused on the beating of her heart.

“No need to sound so glum, dear wife. Being married is not a death sentence. For you, at least,” he murmured in her ear. “I know that I am at your mercy, my little Welsh murderess. I might wake up one morning and find myself tied to the bed with you poised over me, ready to strike, with a candle or with a dagger. If only you agreed to shed your clothes while you do so, I believe I would die a happy man. I might even try to persuade you to delay the execution until I’d had my fill of you.”

Esyllt felt herself grow red to the roots of her hair. His smell was so enticing, his voice so seductive, his words so provocative... It was all too much. She could feel herself becoming soft and pliable, and her will melting way.

She took a step away from him before she could beg him to kiss her, properly this time.

What was happening? Only a moment ago they’d been enjoying some banter and before she knew it, Connor had reverted to talking in the velvety tones of a lover. He was accusing her of wanting to kill him, but he was doing so in a sensual purr, all the while talking into her ear. He was not jesting with her anymore, he was seducing her.

What was she to do? How was she to deal with a man capable of such ambivalence? He was supposed to hate her, not seek her company, he was supposed to enjoy watching her struggle with her enemies, not help her out. And she... She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him, this man who had been forced upon her, who had taken pleasure in humiliating her the very night they’d met, who had still not made their marriage valid and could spurn her at any moment because of it.

What was she doing, being rooted to the spot in front of him? Bantering with him?

She should walk away, not look at him like a prey too transfixed to move in front of its predator.

Behind them a servant coughed. He was hovering by the door, a couple of logs cradled in his arms, not knowing whether he should enter and disturb them or retreat and come back another time. Seeing the confusion on his face gave Esyllt the jolt she needed.

“I will ride into the village and see Branwen,” she muttered. “I know she went to the fair the other week. I daresay she will have news to share.”

The way Connor tilted his head indicated he’d guessed this was just an excuse. They both knew she had seen her friend the day before. Any news of the fair would have been imparted then. “I dare say she will,” he said nonetheless. “Something about having found the people there ridden with boils no doubt. It is bad news, but at least it means that you will be able to converse in Welsh.”

Esyllt almost laughed out loud. He remembered what she’d told Matthew in her fit of rage yesterday. This touched her soul as surely as his seduction had stirred her senses. “Yes. Not to mention that the weather has been awful of late. That should give us plenty to talk about.”

“Ride away, then, wife.” He took her hand and kissed it in a gallant gesture. “As long as you come back to me.”

“You can’t run! I’ll only catch you. And then you’ll be sorry!”

While Esyllt wondered who Connor was threatening with retaliation, Jane and Sian rushed past her, giggling like the two little imps they were. She smiled at the shriek of delight they gave when another roar from Connor reached them. Relief swept through her. A game, that was all. No retribution was coming. She rounded the corner of the keep—and found herself all but catapulted into Connor’s arms.

They almost fell to the floor together, but he steadied her with two hands around her waist, something a less strapping man would have been unable to do.

“Careful here, little wife.”

“What are you doing?” she rasped. The feel of his hands on her body, although it had prevented her from falling flat on her face, had sent her senses all aflutter.

“I was running after the girls. They wanted a game of hide and seek.”

“And you agreed?” She was incredulous.

“Why, yes, why wouldn’t I?” He smiled. That smile reduced her already shaky limbs to jelly. “Surely you don’t believe me so dim-witted so as to not understand how to play the game?”

“I do not think you dim-witted,” she replied, half-amused at the teasing, half-mortified by her inability to hide her turmoil from her voice. She sounded just as affected as she felt. “But perhaps unwilling to join in such childish games.”

“Well.” He was still holding her, which didn’t help her hold on to a sense of composure. “I guess I am a man full of surprises.”

“You certainly are.” A warrior running after two little girls just for the pleasure of hearing them giggle... It was unexpected to say the least.

“I hope to provide you with many more surprises in the weeks to come. It might be that it helps you make peace with this marriage.”

There was no need. She already had made her peace with it. Hearing that Gruffydd had considered her for a bride had only confirmed it.

“I think you should go and get the girls,” she said in a whisper. “Otherwise you could lose them.”

“Oh, I think I already have. They could be halfway to the village by now.” He made a grimace. “I fear it will take me all afternoon to find them.”

“I’m sorry I detained you.”

“I’m not.” His lips quivered. “And it seems to me that I am the one detaining you.” To illustrate his point, his hands tightened around her waist, and he leaned in, his head stopping only inches from her face.

Esyllt bit her lip as realization hit. Here, in the bailey, in full view of everyone, he was going to kiss her.

Finally.

The perfunctory kiss in the church when they’d exchanged vows hardly counted, as did the chaste one given upon his return from England. And the scandalous nibbling at her private parts was an entirely different thing, of course.

She moaned in anticipation, longing to experience a real kiss at last.

Connor almost groaned out loud when Esyllt moaned.

In all his life, the urge to kiss a woman had never crashed over him with such force. It coursed through his whole body, from the top of his skull to the tip of his toes, but he fought it, unsure what Esyllt’s reaction would be if he took her mouth here, in the bailey, for all to see. Because this kiss would be nothing short of scandalous, he already knew it. Everything within him was burning. Never during the weeks of negotiations, when her name had been one amongst dozens of others, had he imagined that he would be attracted with such force to the wife he was choosing with such detachment.

He wasn’t even sure why she appealed to him so.

She was beautiful, but also confrontational enough to test his temper to the limit. With another woman, that would have been enough to dampen his ardor, but with her, it only exacerbated it. He was attracted to her outside the bedroom as much as he was aroused inside of it. It was an unexpected development. Back in February when he had seen her on that dais, he had congratulated himself on having chosen a bride who stirred his senses with her beauty. He had not suspected he would actually have found a wife who also piqued his interest with her sharp wit and utter lack of fear.

His first union had been neither happy nor unhappy, it had simply been. His wife’s death had struck him hard, but not because he had loved her. He had been struck by the loss but his heart had remained intact. Helen had been a quiet woman who had failed to provoke any emotion in him, and barely enough desire to produce children. Bedding her had been as close to a chore as sleeping with a woman could be, and every discussion he’d had with her had ended with him wishing he could be somewhere else.

In short, she’d been the exact opposite of Esyllt.

His hands tightened around her waist. Despite the odd circumstances of their union, he enjoyed being married to her. Because his first marriage had been so uninspiring, he had not balked at the idea of marrying a stranger. His first wife had not been a life companion. There had been no reason to imagine that his second would be any different. But Esyllt was not just his wife, she was a woman in her own right, with abilities and a fiery personality. A very desirable woman who set his loins on fire. He liked to have her in his arms every time he could justify holding her, and he was itching to be allowed back into her bed. Although they had never really made love, he felt more of a sensual connection with her than he had with any woman he’d ever bedded. The night he had licked her to orgasm had given him more pleasure than all his encounters with Helen combined. She had just lain passively under him and never once made a noise, though he’d tried his best to see to her pleasure.

Whatever satisfaction he’d gotten as a married man had not been gained in the marital bed but in his daughters’ company. As for his masculine urges, they had been fulfilled in a perfunctory manner with whatever willing woman was at hand. He had not consciously decided to take mistresses, and he was not particularly proud of the fact that he had made the most of the advances he’d received over the years, but it had seemed the only way not to die of boredom and frustration.

Now, everything was different.

With a wife like Esyllt, he would not be bored or frustrated. The urge to take another woman in his arms would not plague him. She would not lie under him rigidly when he bedded her, she would squirm and writhe and moan and beg. She would pleasure him in turn, he was sure of it, and ride him until he couldn’t think straight. God, the mere thought of everything they could do together made him hard. Yes, the little Welsh hellion would be a reckless lover.

He could not forget the way she had arched her back, rubbed herself against him and moaned, how she had been overwhelmed by his touch, by her desire for him, even while fighting it, even when she’d had no idea who he was.

Before she noticed how hard he had become, he drew away.

Waiting until she was ready before taking her to bed was the only satisfactory solution, but he was only human, and holding her close was just too much of a temptation.

As if she’d seen his inner struggle, she took a step back herself.

“It’s so good to have children running around Castell Esgyrn,” she said rather breathlessly. “Sian has always been somewhat quiet, but I can foresee this will soon change. I’m glad.”

Children. Yes, that was an innocuous topic of conversation, one that might help put lewd images out of his mind and allow his body to cool.

“With Jane around, she might not be as quiet,” he agreed. It was good to see his own daughter happy as well. God knew she deserved it.

“All we need now is for Matthew to bring his by-blows here.”

Connor smiled. “No danger of that. To my knowledge, he has none. In fact, I have never seen him with a woman.”

Esyllt could not hide her shock at that piece of information. Matthew, leading a chaste life, or as near as? She found it impossible to believe. “Really?”

“Yes. That is not to say he doesn’t meet any, of course, but he has never introduced anyone to me or even mentioned anyone special.”

That was surprising. Whatever she thought of his gruff manners toward her, there was no denying that a man as well-favored as he was would appeal to the ladies. Why, she had been struck by his appearance herself, until his golden good looks had been eclipsed by her husband’s brooding intensity. Even Branwen, who never remarked on men’s appearance, had commented on it.

And now she was told that he was, if not exactly a monk, at least discreet enough to hide his conquests from the brother with whom he shared everything. It was unexpected to say the least.

“And do you have by-blows?” she asked, heart in her throat at her own daring. But since Connor had not thought it relevant to inform her that he was a widower, she had no choice but to ask directly if she wanted to know—and she dearly did.

There might be dark secrets lurking everywhere with this man who was still a near stranger.

Green eyes pinned her in place. He had not liked the question or what it implied, but after a while seemed to conclude that it was only fair of her to ask the question and that he owed her an answer. His expression softened. “No. I do not.”

His sincerity could not be doubted. Esyllt nodded in relief. But then... “Wait. I’m sure Matthew said you?—”

“What the hell did he tell you?” Connor cut in with a snarl.

She recoiled at the violence of the outburst and did not have the courage to reveal what his brother had said. “N-nothing,” she stammered.

But it was not nothing. Matthew had definitely told her that Connor could only father girls . Plural. Perhaps she had read too much into it. Perhaps he’d only meant to unnerve her by alluding to possible illegitimate offspring, or even lied outright. She wouldn’t put it past him. Stirring trouble between his brother and his unsuitable Welsh wife would have been Matthew’s intention all along and she would allow him to win.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, cursing herself for having spoilt the moment. They had been physically and emotionally close, they had almost kissed, they had rejoiced in their daughters’ happiness. Why couldn’t she have left it at that?

Something flashed in Connor’s eyes. Anger? Wariness?

“As long as it is nothing. I will not have you casting aspersions on my character—or Matthew’s. We do not go around taking our pleasure with women and then leave them to deal on their own with the bastards we have fathered, do you hear?”

His voice had acquired a rough edge Esyllt had never heard before. Apparently the topic of children was a sensitive one with the Hunter men. She gulped, now convinced that there was indeed a dark secret somewhere. Nevertheless, she knew she would never have the courage to ask now, or perhaps ever.

“I have to go and find the girls,” he told her, eyes still glittering.

“Yes.”

Good luck to him. The two giggling friends were probably safety holed away in a dark corner by now. It would take him forever to unearth them.

When Connor left, Esyllt realized that she had completely forgotten why she had been making her way to the great hall, so she stayed where she was. Her legs were too weak to support her anyway.

A moment later she heard Sian’s shriek, betraying the fact that the girls had been found out. The sound pierced at her heart. Her daughter had never sounded happier, or more carefree. A rush of gratitude toward Connor washed through her. He had done that, by bringing Jane to Castell Esgyrn and being the benevolent, mischievous father figure her child had never had.

And then it struck her.

If she let him, he could also be the fiery, sensual husband she had never had.

The rest of the day was spent in a haze. The scene in the bailey kept playing in her mind. The moment she had thought Connor would kiss her, the anger in his eyes when she had mentioned possible children, her daughter’s shrieks of laughter. Everything melted in a confused mess. What did she feel for him? What did she want to do now? Was it even her choice to make?

Before going to bed, as was her custom, she went to say good night to Sian. More than ever, she needed to see that her daughter was safe and well before settling for the night. It might bring peace to her soul.

The door opened just as Esyllt was reaching out for the handle. She froze. Connor stood in the frame, gilded in the light of the candle she was holding. As he was one step above her, she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. Intimidated by his looming presence, she flattened herself against the stone wall.

“I came to say good night to Sian,” she said unnecessarily. Why else would she be here? Her daughter was the only one sleeping in that room. Or... Was she? She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to say good night to Jane.”

“Jane? But she... She’s not sleeping here.”

Connor sighed. “I know she was given her own room, but she insisted she would sleep with her new best friend from now on. I did not have the heart to refuse her, so I agreed. I found the two girls asleep in each other’s arms just now.”

Esyllt did not know what to answer. She bit her bottom lip.

“You disapprove,” Connor said, misinterpreting her reaction.

“No, of course not.” She did not disapprove, but she was unsettled all the same. The notion of the two children sleeping in each other’s arms had brought an image to her mind of her and Connor lying entwined in bed together. It was not an image made to help her keep hold of her composure. “If that’s what they want, I see no reason to deny them.”

“Thank you.” He sounded so sincere, so grateful, that she could not help but wonder why it was so important to him.

“Let me go and see Sian.”

He smiled. “I fear she’s already asleep, exhausted by all the running.”

She smiled back. “I can imagine. But I like to see her settled before I go to bed. I sleep better that way.”

He nodded as if he understood the sentiment and moved to let her through. The door frame was so narrow and Connor so big that she had to brush past him to get in. The contact of his chest against her breasts made her heartbeat go faster and her nipples harden. Without thinking about it, she stopped in front of him. The flame of the candle she held sent shadows over the left side of his face while placing the right into sharp relief, as if to illustrate the fact that her husband was a man of many facets. A fierce knight eating from the palms of seven-year-old children. A warrior and an enemy who had never caused her a moment of alarm, a husband who had not yet bedded her, a fiery lover who was keeping his urges in check, and a man who would be the perfect protector the day he came to trust her.

Right now he was watching her with an enigmatic look on his face. Would she ever understand the workings of his mind? He was tender when she expected him to be angry, whimsical when other men would take offense. Yet he did not lack passion or fire. None of it made sense.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” She looked at him from under her lashes. “I mean, in my bed. I m-mean?—”

“Do you want me to?” he asked softly, putting an end to her stammering.

“Yes,” she admitted in a low voice. “Even if we had a disagreement earlier in the bailey.”

He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture she hesitated to identify. Then he averted his gaze and she could not fool herself any longer. He was embarrassed. Connor Hunter, Lord Sheridan, the mighty Englishman, was embarrassed. And... Was he about to apologize to her?

She stilled, waiting.

“It wasn’t really a disagreement, and I’m sorry about my reaction. I was angry but it wasn’t your fault.” He gave a sigh. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It is only natural that you should want to know if the man you married has other children.”

She decided to put him out of his misery. “I swear I was not suggesting... I do not think for a moment that you would be so dishonorable as to abandon any child you might have fathered or that you had imposed yourself on unwilling women, only—” It was her turn to be embarrassed.

And his turn to interrupt her.

“Yes. I know. Please. I’m sorry. Do you think we could just forget the whole thing? I don’t think it reflects too well on either of us.”

Esyllt frowned at the odd comment. It could have sounded like a rebuke if he had not berated himself as well as her. But one thing was clear, children were a touchy subject where he was concerned, she could not ignore it any longer. “Of course. Let us put the whole thing behind us.”

“Thank you. I will be waiting in your bedchamber. Come and find me when you’ve finished with the girls.”

He made it sound so evocative that for a moment she wondered if he would not bed her tonight, like a husband should. The prospect sent her heart aflutter. Was that the real reason she had asked he resumed his sleeping in her bed? Because she wanted him to finally consummate their marriage? It wouldn’t surprise her if she had.

Well, in any case, now was not the time to think about it.

Without a word, she stepped into the room.

The sight meeting her eyes made her heart melt. Jane had her arms around Sian, and her face buried in her hair. Her daughter was holding her tight, and a smile was floating on her lips. It was such a touching picture that Esyllt felt tears well up in her eyes. It seemed that Wales and England could be at peace with one another. There was no question of domination here, just pure love. After blowing a kiss to each of the little girls, she retreated to the staircase.

On the way to her bedchamber, her heart began to beat unbearably fast. What if Connor really was expecting an invitation to do more than sleep? She had banished him from her bed after his return from England and he had respected her wishes when another husband might well have asserted his authority over his wife. It seemed obvious that he was waiting for her to be comfortable with the idea of them becoming intimate before he attempted anything. Whether it was because he did not want to force a woman who had made her opinion clear about bedding him or for a reason she was ignorant of wasn’t clear. Still, she was grateful, all the more so that she knew he was aroused by her proximity and ready to make her his.

You do not live next to a man without noticing certain things about his body.

Only today when he had taken her into his arms, she had felt how hard he was.

She flushed. What would she do if he pressed his advances on her? If he decided that her request that he join her meant that she was finally ready to accept his touch, then he would have no reason to hold back. And she wasn’t sure she would have the will to resist.

In the end, she could have spared herself all the worry because when she entered the room, Connor was already asleep.

Esyllt knew from the disappointment crashing through her that she had indeed been ready to accept his touch and would have welcomed him if he had reached out for her. But it seemed that passive acceptance would not be enough.

If she wanted him to finally make love to her, she was going to have to beg for it.