The Shadow 0f Her Smile (Highlander Heroes Book 3)

by Rebecca Ruger

  “You’ve probably already lain with him?” Katherine shocked her again. Reading Ada’s blush with a sly grin, she added, “I knew it. It was the way he was watching you, all heated glares, undressing you with his eyes.”

  “Oh, my.” Ada had no other words for Katherine’s assumptions and opinions, but somehow was still not put off, but rather entertained.

  “You probably wouldn’t share him?”

  No longer entertained, Ada’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped for the second time in this woman’s company. She managed only a very firm, “I would not.” And then wondered at the vehemence in her own voice.

  “I would not either, were I you.”

  Admittedly, Ada was thankful when Jamie showed himself only a few minutes later. She jumped up from the plush chair, but Jamie only asked if she needed anything from her bundled belongings.

  Katherine answered. “She will not. I’ve the perfect wedding gown in mind.”

  Jamie looked to Ada, who tried to convey with her eyes that she was beginning to think the woman was batty. But he seemed not to understand and only announced that he and Roger were for the village, to find the priest.

  “You can be ready by sundown?” He asked.

  “Aye,” Ada said with a sigh, for his lack of help.

  Jamie stepped fully into the room and stood before Ada, having misread her meaningful look. “Almost too late for second thoughts, lass.”

  Ada shook her head. “No such thing,” she assured him. Movement next to her showed that Katherine had come to her feet and now stood very close to Jamie and Ada, watching them. Jamie considered her, with only a fleeting curious frown before he was off, with a promise to see Ada next before the priest.

  AS GOOD AS HIS WORD, Jamie stood with the collected cleric—Father Edmund, a man who struck Jamie as being ill-at-ease in the long black robes—and waited while Wallace fetched Ada.

  He felt they’d been successful and had swayed the MacBriar to their cause earlier. The oversized and sickly man, who hadn’t risen from his bed in months, he’d told them, had not ever declared for England, but neither had he necessarily supported Scotland’s want of freedom. But he might do so now, Jamie and Wallace believed, and was kind enough to allow them to stay the night—“but not no more, dear sirs,” he’d said after some wracking cough, “lest you put a target on my own head as well”—and had been agreeable to their request to see the wedding performed at Hawick House, with little ceremony.

  Jamie looked down upon his person, double-checking the pleats in his fresh plaid, aligning one fold with more care. He swiped at the sleeve of his blue tunic, the best he owned, and then ran his fingers through his newly-shorn hair. Roger had assisted him, as there was no barber to be found in town, chopping away at the length, and then—as Wallace had laughed—saying, “Aye, shite, and now I’ll needing to hack off more to even it out.” So it was, that his fingers barely found any hair to run through, which felt unfamiliar to him; however, he couldn’t say he did not appreciate the lightness of it, even as he suspected his ears might often be cold going forward.

  And then all thoughts of his own person and appearance were forgotten as Wallace stepped out onto the landing, his raised hand bringing Ada into view.

  Next to him, Will stood, and his tail wagged.

  Jamie nearly gasped, and shifted on his feet, settling his hand onto the hilt of his sword.

  “Would you look at her...” Roger sighed next to him, no small admiration in his tone.

  The Lady MacBriar had seen to it that the unkempt hall was at least lighted well for the nuptials, which cast the entire room into shades of gold. So here came Ada, dressed in a provocative kirtle of white, with some gold threads shimmering in the glow of a dozen tapers. The gown was nearly indecently low but oh, so alluring, rendering Jamie breathless for the space of a second. He swallowed as Wallace led her down the stairs, embracing the role of proud patriarch. She tipped her head, to watch her footfalls, showing him the circlet of flowers that adorned her otherwise unarranged hair, save that the sides seemed to be held away from her face. But Jamie’s eyes were drawn again to the gown, being so close-fitting it might have been made only for her, the sleeves long and hugging her lean arms, the bodice snug and low. While Jamie welcomed wholly the display of cleavage offered to him, and while he knew in loftier circles, this would not at all be construed as daring, he was surprised that Ada had been willing to show so much of her scarring. The swell of her breast above the pinched seam of the gown showed to one and all much of the abuse she’d suffered. But Jamie saw only those breasts, pictured them once again in his hands, naked to his gaze.

  He’d never thought much of the simpering fools who showed such weakness as to allow their fondness written so plainly on their faces, but felt a slow smile crease his face just as William guided Ada to his side. He met her gaze and was sure that every bride’s hope was found in her eyes, and it was no hardship to answer her unspoken question. “You have taken my breath away.”

  All at once, she seemed to breathe, and relax. Her gaze lifted to his hair, that Jamie found himself now holding his breath until she smiled, with her own appreciation. “You clean up right nice, sir.”

  The priest began the ceremony, his monotone words intimating he might rather be home, in front of a warm fire, mayhap with his own hound at his heels, but Jamie did not care. And he allowed only a passing recollection of his first wedding, so very different from this, elaborate and false, promising himself he’d not make the same mistakes he had with his first wife.

  He took Ada to wife to protect her, because he was indebted to her. And, as he’d said to her, there was much more he wanted to know and to enjoy of her body. But he would go away again, he would revisit the war, and he was unlikely to return to Aviemore so very many times, if at all. He wouldn’t allow himself to become attached to her, no matter that he was utterly intrigued by her person, and enormously fascinated by her body. Their marriage would likely be of a short duration; they needn’t wrap themselves up in it, or worse, get lost in it.

  FOR THE THIRD TIME that day, Ada tried to coax the immoral bodice of her borrowed gown up over her breasts. She caught Katherine’s sly eye across the table and dropped her hands at the woman’s impatient shaking of her head. She hadn’t actually agreed to wear the gown but had been rather shimmied into it by an eager Katherine after a bath in perfumed and heated water. Of course, she’d been appalled first at the amount of skin it showed and then at the quantity of scars it displayed. But she was a woman, and she could not ever recall a dress this fine, the fabric sumptuous, the bodice embroidered with golden threads. And with Katherine’s insistence that it was certainly not in poor taste, Ada had acquiesced. If she’d had any idea how often she would be in jeopardy of spilling out of the thing, she’d have refused it outright.

  Just as she fussed with her daring décolletage once again, Jamie leaned over to her and whispered, “It’s perfect. Leave it be.”

  Ada tilted her head up to him and in an equally quiet voice responded, “I thought the dress exquisite, but the display questionable. Katherine insisted you would not be put off by my disfigurement being so openly—” Ada stopped, actually going pale at the darkness that entered his gaze. ”

  With his face very close to her and his voice given so that only she could hear, he said with a scowl, “My wife is no disfigured. Dinna say that ever again.”

  Ada did not know what purpose compelled his words. They were fierce, as if the slight had come from another. As he did not move, appeared only to await a response, she nodded briefly and removed her eyes from him. She knew it was silly, she’d chided herself about this very thing many times over the past year; just because she took her gaze away from a person didn’t mean they also removed their gaze from her face, from her scars. Not seeing them look at her didn’t mean they did not look at her. Her cheeks pinkened under his continued heated perusal.

  My wife.

  Ada sighed. She glanced around the table, that earlier-n
oted broken one, which William Wallace himself had put to rights. Only she and Jamie and Wallace and Roger, and naturally, their host, Lady Katherine, sat round the linen topped trestle table. Whoever it was in the kitchen who’d had a hand in those perfectly moist sweet breads Ada had sampled upon their arrival, had by some miracle managed to put out a feast after all. The table was laden with three kinds of game and fish, more of those sweet breads, a mouthwatering pottage amazingly loaded with vegetables, and cups of wine that seemed to magically always be full.

  William Wallace was jovial, livelier than Ada had ever seen him, actually flirting with Katherine, whom Ada realized was not immune to either the giant’s smooth words or his overfriendly hands.

  From his seat next to Wallace, Roger met Ada’s gaze, now removed from the unlikely pair, giving a humored grin at this happenstance. He then engaged Jamie in some debate over a weapon he called a falchion, which Roger explained to Ada combined the weight and power of an ax with the versatility of a sword.

  “Has no reach,” Jamie scoffed, defending his use of a broadsword.

  “But the power!” Roger exclaimed, and added, “And a useful tool outside of battles.”

  Jamie shrugged. “They’re generally cheaply made, and you’ll find the power is impractical when the blade snaps off inside your enemy.”

  Strangely, Roger guffawed at this, and then wondered at Jamie’s views on the stiletto knife, whose thin pointed blade, he was sure, might wreak havoc against the English’s liking of chain mail.

  Ada was happy to sit back and listen, letting the warmth of the bitter wine soothe her nerves, happy to steal glances at her husband.

  Her husband.

  She was wed now to Jamie MacKenna. And wasn’t he so brilliantly handsome today, with his fresh cut hair and clean shaven face? He wore a blue tunic, one she hadn’t noticed before, which brightened the magnetic blue of his eyes, even within the dimness of the hall.

  She listened to his voice, hypnotized by the deep cadence of his words, and blinked several times, guessing the wine must surely be more potent than the usual ale. After a while, Jamie, who was still in conversation with the very affable Roger, slid his arm behind her, along the back of her chair. Ada smiled sleepily and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

  It was a very good day.

  She hadn’t realized she’d said any words aloud, until her husband ducked his head at the sound and asked her to repeat herself.

  But she could only smile, hardly recalling what she might have said, and lifted a hand to his smooth cheek. Her smile widened. “I have a very handsome husband.”

  Laughter followed this pronouncement and Ada swung her gaze around to the blurry wedding guests. “Oh my.”

  “Oh my, indeed,” said Jamie, standing from his chair. “And I have a very intoxicated bride,” he surmised, inspiring more chuckles, and used both his hands to pull Ada to her feet.

  She stood, weightless and airy, smiling still, hoping Jamie might kiss her again. He did not, instead scooped her into his arms, as if she weighed no more than a sack of grain, holding her close against his chest, with one arm around her back and another tucked under her knees.

  As Jamie called a cheery good night to the others, Ada waved a hand over her head, having some idea now that he took them up those narrow steps and into the chambers they’d been given for the night.

  He laid her on the bed, the very spot where hours ago she’d sat to don the delicate silk hose Katherine had gifted her.

  “I like wine,” she cooed, flopping her hands onto her belly.

  “Aye, I can see that.” Oh, but she loved the sound of Jamie’s chuckle.

  “I feel very safe.”

  “’Tis good.” Ada couldn’t be sure if she heard laughter still in his voice. He was removing his sword, she knew that sound, was used to it by now. She liked the familiarity of it. When next she was aware of Jamie, he was lifting the hem of her gown up over her knees and untying the thin garters that held up her hose. Tilting her head on the very thick pillow, Ada looked down at Jamie, just as he stripped the smooth silk from one leg, being very leisurely in this endeavor. Ada’s gaze was rooted to his hands, his fingers gliding along down her thigh and over her knee. Her gaze adjusted, beyond her own legs, and realized Jamie had removed his own clothing already.

  “My husband hasn’t any clothes.”

  “My wife is about to lose hers.” He removed the hose from her other leg in much the same manner, slowly and tantalizingly. The sleepiness and slight drunkenness evaporated swiftly, her eyes widening and her body reacting already to his hands so adoringly upon her.

  Jamie stood and collected her hands, pulling her to her feet. He cupped her face and kissed her soundly, delving into her wetness with his tongue. His hands slid downward, across her throat and over her breast. Ada shivered. Those hands moved further still, pulling at the ribbons tied about her gown, pushing the kirtle off her shoulders, leaving it suspended at her waist. Pulling back, he glanced down, and Ada suspected she heard something akin to a groan escape him as he lifted both breasts, pushing their fullness together, while only her thin chemise remained to separate their flesh. He lowered his head, his mouth landing atop the mounds, his hands then lifting to slide the chemise straps off her shoulders. Ada watched him, her hands coursing through his short hair as he kissed the bare flesh of the top of her bosom. When his lips touched her nipple through the fabric of her sheer chemise, Ada tipped her head back, her mouth forming a silent O. He suckled her nipple, first one and then the other and Ada thought she might die a gorgeous death right then and there.

  Inserting his thumbs between her hips and the gowns, he pushed them lower and soon the garments slid off her slim body, his hands easing them down over her hips. They pooled about her feet. Having followed with his body the descent of her gown, Jamie was now on one knee. He lifted her foot and swept the fabrics out from under her while Ada kept one hand on his wide shoulders to steady herself. He pressed moist kisses on her shin and her knee and her thigh and higher, upon her belly and again her breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, and suckling then that Ada was quite sure she couldn’t have recalled her name had someone asked.

  He steered her backward as he kissed her, until her legs touched the bed frame. But he didn’t lay her down, only separated again, as if just now desirous only of looking at her. While his hands remained on her hips, Ada reached out to take his hardness in her grasp. Seemingly absorbed by her inquisitiveness, he allowed her slow moving fingers to touch him, making him even harder.

  “Jesus,” he rasped, a jagged sound undoing the silence.

  She looked up at him, but his eyes were closed. When he opened them, his gaze was bright and heated. She took him more firmly, circling him after a moment of exploration about the head. The corners of his mouth lifted as he did now move her backward, so that she sat down. He tipped his head toward the headboard and Ada released him and slid back on the soft mattress. Jamie came over her, his hands on the bed on either side of her, pushing her onto her back as he joined his lips to hers. He delved deep with his tongue, teasing and tasting, while his body settled fully atop her.

  Ada whimpered in delight at the feel of his hot skin touching so many parts of her. She wrapped her arms around him, accustomed now to that whirling sensation inside her that made her want to move against him, move certain parts against him. She flexed her hips experimentally. His approving groan, delivered into her mouth, told her the action was good indeed and so she began to do it with a rhythm her body craved, against that ever growing part of him.

  Jamie’s lips left her own, trailing kisses about and around her neck, suckling and licking, his teeth nibbling at her ear. He shifted upon her, lowering himself to reach her breasts, flicking the hardened peaks with his tongue before taking one nipple fully into his mouth, drawing it harder, eliciting a moan from her. Moving ever so slightly off her, their bodies still touching from top to bottom, one hand moved along the outline of her, tracing a delicious pat
tern along her shoulder, over the well-loved breast, across her belly and hip, to rest lightly on her mound. This simple touch alone, barely set upon the curly dark hair, sent Ada nearly off the mattress.

  Of their own accord, her legs fell open to him, and those masterful fingers moved further, to the very center of her. Completely bereft now of any faculties, Ada writhed against his hand, her eyes closed to such blissful torment as this, and she began to move her hips and bottom in a relation suited to his motion. She was aware, and then not, of a building force inside her, begging for relief, making her dance in time to him, making her cry out softly, making her arch her back for more.

  One finger slid inside her, bringing out a larger cry, opening her eyes to find him watching her face. In his eyes, she sensed a hunger about him, the same longing she grappled with now, and reached for him, cupping his face, drawing him near, kissing him wildly, wanting more.

  Jamie covered her again, settling between her legs, rubbing that hardness against her while he kissed her senseless yet more. She felt his erection touch her where only seconds ago his deft fingers had, but he did not go further. Instinctively, she moved her hips against him, her heightened awareness telling her that she wanted this above all else.

  “Inside me,” she begged, her voice sounding unfamiliar to her own ears.

  He nodded, kissing her again, and said against her lips, “But slowly.”

  Her head moved back and forth. She didn’t want slow, she wanted whatever his touch made her crave more than breath right at this moment.

  Her husband chuckled hoarsely. “Slowly, lass, to make it last.”

  Finally, he began to enter her.

  “Oh, bless you,” she breathed against his lips, the fullness inside her allowing for only short gasps, her words provoking another chuckle from Jamie.

  She moaned aloud as he slid deeper.

  Jamie crooned, his mouth against hers, “I like your passion, lass.”