'I would have privacy when I do.'
'Why?'
She couldn't believe he needed to ask. 'Because I require it.'
'You're going to freeze to death. Come out. Now.' His hard command didn't leave room for argument.
'I will not get out. I'm not wearing anything. I really must have privacy now.'
He pretended not to notice she'd shouted at him. 'No one's here,' he said.
'You're here, and you're standing right in the moonlight. I cannot come out until you leave.'
His bride had dared to shout at him again. He shook his head over her audacity. 'Don't raise your voice to me.'
He sounded as though he'd run out of patience. She reminded herself she'd vowed to get along and thought that perhaps if she gave him what he wanted, he would naturally reciprocate in kind.
Her lips were getting numb from the frigid water and her teeth were chattering so, she could barely speak at all now. 'All right then. I won't shout. Will you please leave now?'
'No.'
Her husband obviously didn't understand how to reciprocate. She'd have to explain it all to him later, but not now. Her skin was wrinkling like old prunes, and if she didn't get out soon, she really would freeze to death.
Pride was killing her. 'I cannot possibly get out.'
'Why? Are you embarrassed?'
He sounded surprised by the possibility. She closed her eyes, said a fast prayer for endurance, then answered, 'Of course I'm embarrassed.'
'Shyness has no place between us. Do you want me to come in after you?'
'I'll drown you if you do.'
The ridiculous threat made him smile. 'Will it help if I take my clothes off?'
'No.'
She didn't realize he was teasing her, and honest to God, if she shouted at him once more, he thought he just might go in and get her.
'Connor, will you at least turn your back while I get dressed?'
His sigh was strong enough to push her under the water. 'You're being very foolish.'
She didn't mind his criticism. She got what she wanted, after all. He finally turned around. She hurried up the bank and dried herself with all possible haste. Fearing there wouldn't be enough time before her impatient husband turned around, she didn't bother putting on her chemise but slipped the white cotton gown over her head.
Pink ribbons secured the thin undergown from the bottom of her waist to the top of her chin. Her fingers felt as though they were being pricked by a thousand sharp pins now, making the task terribly awkward, and try as she did, she couldn't get the delicate ribbons properly tied.
She gave up on the task for the moment. The heavy tunic she planned to put over the undergown would sufficiently cover her bare chest. The problem was getting to the thing. She'd draped the garment on a low-hanging branch so it wouldn't get dirty, but she'd have to walk around Connor to get to it. She wasn't about to let him see her in such an indecent state and was forced to ask him to please hand it to her.
He turned around instead. She started backing away from him, thinking only to put a little distance between them, but then she felt herself slipping on the wet slope. She would have fallen flat on her face or plunged back into the water, but Connor saved her from disgracing herself by pulling her back to safety.
If he hadn't looked so disgruntled, she would have thanked him for his assistance.
She pulled her gown tight over her breasts and frowned with disapproval.
'I want you to understand you have nothing to fear from me. My duty is to take care of you, not harm you.'
'I don't fear you.'
'You just backed away from me,' he reminded her dryly. 'You were obviously frightened a minute ago.'
She shook her head. The ribbon holding her hair up in a lopsided knot near the top of her crown flew into the water, and the thick mass of curls dropped down around her shoulders.
Looking at her in such a disheveled state gave him a sudden rush of pleasure. She was the most provocative creature he'd ever met. A man could get lost in the magic of those big blue eyes of hers and forget all about his duties while he paused to admire the sensual grace in the way she moved.
What the hell was wrong with him? Brenna wasn't casting a spell on him, yet he was acting as though she were. He quickly became irritated. He wasn't about to let her rob him of his discipline, and damn, but she was a bother.
And a temptress. All he wanted to think about was kissing her frown away and making hard, hot love to her.
She would probably die of fright if she had any idea of his thoughts. She couldn't possibly know how alluring she was, or how his body was reacting to her near nakedness. She wouldn't be frowning up at him with such indignation if she realized how close she was to being tossed onto the nearest blanket.
'Stop shaking your head at me,' he ordered in a gruff voice.
'I was merely letting you know, most emphatically, that I wasn't frightened. It's just that I didn't expect you to turn around, and I was surprised. Your manners do give me grave concerns.'
He smiled. Her eyes widened in disbelief. 'Manners aren't important to you?'
'No.'
'No? But you should think they're important.'
'Why?'
'Why?' she repeated. Her mind went blank. Heaven help her, she couldn't come up with a single reason. The way Connor was looking at her, with such warmth and tenderness in his eyes, made her forget even what they'd been talking about.
She took a step closer to him. 'You are a very confusing man,' she whispered. 'But if I am to keep my sanity, I guess I'll have to try to understand you. You'd better be worth the bother, Connor.'
Almost as an afterthought, she said, 'You may let go of me now.'
He didn't feel like letting go of her, and because he was accustomed to doing exactly what he wanted to do, he ignored her wishes. Her soft skin, as smooth as an angel's and the color of pale gold in the moonlight, felt good against his rough, callused hands.
How had this treasure eluded other men?
'Haven't you ever been courted by other men?'
'I was betrothed to a baron, but he died before I was old enough to marry him. I never actually met the man, or many others for that matter. Father wouldn't allow any men around his daughters, especially Rachel,' she explained. 'She's the pretty one.'
'Did the baron to whom you were pledged die in battle?'
'In bed.'
'He died in bed?'
'It was tragic,' she snapped. 'Not amusing.'
'Only an Englishman would die in his bed.'
She thought his opinion too ignorant to argue about. 'Will you stop squeezing my arms now?'
He lessened his hold. 'Are you still feeling embarrassed?'
'Just a little.'
'I don't want you to be embarrassed at all. You will stop it now.'
She started to laugh before she realized he was perfectly serious. 'Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?'
She didn't wait for him to answer her. 'I'm getting cold again. If you'll let go of me, I'll finish getting dressed.'
'There isn't any need to dress. We're going to bed.'
It wasn't what he said, but how he said it that made her panic.
He reeked with authority and looked as tense as a warrior about to go in for the kill.
She deliberately tried to misunderstand. 'Together?'
'Of course.'
