“That is, if I survive this week.” He stroked her knee and up over her thigh as hunger began to flicker in his eyes. “I confess that the temptation is driving me insane.”
His gaze settled on her lips, and the sensitive skin tingled, warming beneath the attention of those dark orbs. She wanted to taste his kiss, wanted to have it combine with the sweet taste of the French wine …
“You should go … now.” Bridget looked away and drained the remaining wine in one, long swallow. The sweet elixir burned a path down her throat and pooled in her belly like liquid fire, but it was nothing compared to the need licking at her.
The hand resting on her thigh squeezed. “I want to stay …”
Her body liked that response. Excitement flared up, burning away at her resolve to refuse to celebrate their union. Once she had lain with him, Lord Oswald would reject her.
She liked the sound of his words, full well, and the firm grip on her thigh told her that Curan enjoyed it, too. She lifted her face to make eye contact. She felt it right down to her toes. His dark stare was piercing and consuming, making it impossible to ignore how much she wanted exactly what he craved, too.
He growled and pushed up to his feet. His lips pressed into a hard line while his grip around the silver wine chalice threatened to destroy its delicate shape.
“You are being more logical than I am, and yet I am not sorry I came to this chamber tonight.” He moved over to the table and refilled his goblet. This time he tossed the wine into his mouth, draining the liquid in two quick swallows. He paused for a long moment before leaning over to blow out the candle.
She instantly felt alone, yet watched. A shiver raced along her back as she strained to hear his steps in the dark room. Instead she felt his fingers sliding along her hot cheek.
“You tempt me beyond measure, Bridget, yet that is nothing to lament.”
He pressed a warm, wine-flavored kiss against her lips that she eagerly returned. But he pulled away, leaving her with only the sound of his breathing to know that he still remained near.
“Are you quite certain you will not take your place beside me in my bed tonight?”
Her fingers gripped the bedding. “There is no doubt.”
No doubt that her parents had forbidden her this man.
She heard him sigh, a soft sound that betrayed his disappointment. It wasn’t arrogant or demanding such as she expected from him. But it cut her deeper than any words he had spoken.
“Until dawn, sweet Bridget.”
She heard the door softly open and close behind him. The scent of candle wax drifted into the bed curtains, making her eyes burn with unshed tears for what was not to be.
“So, you’re the bride Curan spent so much effort contracting.”
Bridget turned in surprise but more so for the way her temper flared. Before she even turned around she knew who was in the chamber now. A small lantern hung from the woman’s gloved fingers, casting a welcoming glow through its costly glass sides.
Lady Justina was even lovelier up close. Her complexion was flawless and her eyes the blue of a summer day. Her lips looked like new spring berries, and she knew how to carry herself well. She looked down her nose, clearly judging Bridget.
“Yes, I am.”
Justina blew out a little snort. “You needn’t take such a tone, Bridget. After all, I have traveled a great distance to assist you.”
“What do you mean?”
Justina sighed. “Your father was most concerned when he heard that Lord Ryppon had left court with his full contingent of men. He made no secret of the fact that he intended to claim you on his way north. Since you had not arrived yet at court, your father feared that you might be caught before you could obey his summons.”
So her mother was correct. Her father had changed his mind about her match with Curan. The walls suddenly felt thicker and even more impossible to escape, while her need to do exactly that grew.
“I fail to understand what manner of help you bring me.” Bridget lifted her hands to indicate the walls around them both. “You are as much a prisoner as I, now that the gate is lowered for the night.”
Justina’s eyebrows rose slightly. She pressed her hand against the door to make sure it was closed before moving closer. Her voice lowered when she spoke once again.
“I know Amber Hill. There are two escape routes built into the walls in case of the castle being overrun. Your father sent me here to make sure you do not celebrate your wedding. Lord Oswald is not a man to disappoint. Thank God you sent Curan away even if you had to lie to do so.”
Bridget felt her gaze lower for being caught. “How did you know I wasn’t suffering my courses?”
“You did not ask the housekeeper for more linen. She will report such a suspicious thing by tomorrow, for Curan is her lord.”
Bridget snorted with frustration. “I am not accustomed to being dishonest.”
She slapped at the bedding but suddenly looked up at Justina.
“Did you say escape routes? Ones that would lead outside the curtain wall?” She should have considered such. A border castle would be exactly the place for such a consideration to be built into it, under the strictest of silences,
