“Or what?” She screamed back as she pounded him one more time.
“Or this.” He took his free hand and swatted her backside.
“Ouch!” She doubled her efforts, squirming and thrashing.
“Annabelle, I’m goin’ to drop—” He slipped and couldn’t regain his balance with her struggling to be free. He twisted, taking her full weight as he went down.
She’d knocked the wind out of him and he couldn’t speak. Inches from him, he stared at her stunned expression. Then her features changed and her gaze caressed him with something almost akin to affection, but that couldn’t be. This was Annabelle, the woman loathed him and he her. Only his body was having a difficult time remembering the arrangement.
She lifted her hand and stroked his face, her eyes searching his. Awareness of how her body felt pressed against him filled his every pore. Her gaze lingered on his lips and the tip of her tongue traced hers. He closed his eyes on a moan.
“Keldon, are you all right?”
No, he wasn’t all right. She tormented him more now than when she had her memory. He buried his fingers in the wet tangles of her hair. She couldn’t look at him with want and expect him to restrain. She was his wife and he’d take what was his. He opened his eyes, ready to plunder, but her innocent gaze threw him off guard.
“Keldon?”
Her eyes pleaded, but for what?
He was many things, but he wasn’t such a blackheart to make her pay for sins she didn’t remember. He pushed her to the side. On his feet, he offered his hand to her. She stared at the offer then up at him as the rain continued to soak them. He expected her to refuse, but she clasped his hand and he pulled her to her feet.
They reached the porch and to some semblance of cover from the rain. She sulked, her lips pouting as she rubbed her tender bottom. “You hurt me.”
The dark wings of his eyebrows lifted. That was all she was going to say, no tantrum, no slapping, no screaming. Now he was thoroughly convinced she’d lost her mind. “What did ye think yer fists beatin’ my back was doin’?”
“I hurt you?” Her eyes grew large.
Of course, she hadn’t hurt him.
“I’m sorry.” She placed her hand on his chest.
He lifted a brow. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched him with kindness.
Her long drawn out sigh, attracted his attention. “I know you don’t understand, but I needed this. It seemed so important. A memory or something like one was on the verge of coming to me… I remember jumping in puddles, my mom and dad laughing and joining in.”
“Annabelle.”
Something in his tone must have made her pause. She stopped her babbling and looked at him.
“Ye dinnae recover a memory. Yer mother died givin’ birth to ye, and frankly, ye wouldnae have danced in the rain. Ye are ever fussy of yer appearance.”
She stepped back and her hand fell away from him. He already missed the warmth.
“I never knew my mother?” She shook her head. “You have to be wrong. I sense it. My mother loved me.” Her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze dropped to her hands as if they might hold the answers that plagued her. Different emotion flickered across her face, making her appear vulnerable.
Keldon took a step toward her, only to stop dead in his tracks. His gaze had drifted from her face to her flimsy nightdress, clinging to her slim body. He swallowed the thick lump forming in the back of his throat. Seconds before his common sense skittered into the shadows, he tore his gaze away from her breasts. He concentrated on her face, regarding her sullen expression with curiosity. For the life of him, he couldn’t detect any dishonesty.
She clasped her arms, trembling.
He sighed. “Come inside, Annabelle.”
She looked up at him with defiance.
He knew she was ready to argue with him again. “Please.” It was the magic word.
She nodded, letting him guide her over the threshold and into the warmth of the house. She followed him into the study where she stood, watching him throw a few pieces of wood into the fireplace. Once the flames took life, he turned his attention back to her.
She shivered again.
“Let me remove yer clothes.”
Her gaze riveted to his, a vaguely sensuous light passed between them. God, he wanted her.
“I mean…” His word trailed off to silence. He didn’t know what he meant anymore. His hands seemed to have a will of their own as they encircled her waist and drew her near. He untied the ribbon holding her garment in place. Over the fabric, he drew his fingertips up the side of her breast. Heat spiked hitting him low in the gut as an arrow of liquid heat spiraled straight to his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he desired her so.
“Keldon?”
Her voice jolted him. What was he doing? He stepped back his hands shaking. His gaze fixed on her. She looked like Annabelle, but…
He forced himself to remember her cold heart. His eyes narrowed as distrust darkened the mood. Annabelle’s cold words from the past resurfaced.
“You disgust me with your brutal touch.”
“Annabelle, ye are my wife.”
She laughed. “Only in name, love. I find my pleasures elsewhere.”
“Keldon, what’s wrong?”
She brought him back to the present, but the old Annabelle’s words laid buried deep inside him, festering.
She reached for him and he could almost believe she’d changed, that this time, she’d welcome him into her arms. Her large blue eyes were vivid and questioning, as her gaze lingered on his lips.
Had she wanted him to continue, or was she simply toying with him, wanting him to beg for her, so she could push him away.
What did it matter? He had no intentions of finding out. “Stand by the fire,” he ordered. “I’ll go and find ye some dry clothes.”
He turned and fled from the room.
He made his way through the house with the candleholder gripped in his hand. He must distance himself from Annabelle and fast. If the situation weren’t so desperate, he’d have laughed. He was married to the woman for God's sake and he had every right to do as he pleased with her. She practically invited him to touch her, standing there with wet clothes clinging to her body, revealing every wondrous curve. He was only human, and it had been a lifetime since he touched her. So what was stopping him from taking what was rightfully his to sample?
He knew damn well, what was wrong. That woman he just left down stairs with her wanting glances and almost childish naiveté wasn’t his wife. That is, she didn’t behave according to her character. Not that he wanted her to be the cold embittered woman again, but at least he would know how to handle her. “What are ye up to, dear Annabelle? What game do ye play?”
“That is what I was wonderin’? What is all that noise ye two are carryin’ on aboot?” Leighton had stepped into the hall in his nightclothes and holding a candle of his own.
“It is nothin’ I cannae handle,” Keldon answered hoping Leighton would go back to bed. Unfortunately, the man seemed determined to question him.
“It sounded as though ye were outside.” Leighton chuckled, but he sobered as his gaze traveled over Keldon. Obviously taking in his damp hair and clothes. “Ye were outside.”
“Aye. That is where I found her.”
Leighton’s brows shot up. “It’s pourin’ rain.”
“Ye doonae need to be tellin’ me, but the fool lassie seemed no’ to care.”
“What is she up to?” Leighton rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“I havenae a clue. The oddest thing is I detect nay trickery from her.”
“She wasnae meetin’ someone?”
“I watched her from the window. There was nay one to be seen.”
“If she wasnae meetin’ anyone, what was she doin’?”
“Dancin’ in the rain,” Keldon answered. Just the thought of how she looked, as she spun around, letting the water wet every inch of her made his groin ache with want.
>
“Bah!” Leighton snorted, drawing Keldon’s attention. “She’s a clever one. I’ll grant her that. She’s tryin’ to throw us off balance.”
Keldon frowned. “What by pretendin’ she’s lost her mind?”
“What a better plan than that. This way she can spy on us because we’d think her harmless.”
“I doonae know aboot that. She…” He wasn’t sure what he could say to explain his feelings. “We’ll be extra careful until we know for sure what she is aboot.”
“Aye.” Leighton nodded in agreement.
“She’s expectin’ me to bring her some dry clothes. I must go before she becomes suspicious.”
“I’ll bid ye goodnight or what is left of it. Ye best be gettin’ yerself warm. Ye look a wee bit wet yerself.”
Keldon nodded and entered Annabelle’s room. Leighton’s suggestion for warmth was the last thing he wanted. His blood scorched through his veins and he needed to contain his emotions before he went downstairs to face her again. He had no idea what had gotten into him. He despised her, but if this were true, then why the dull ache of desire? He turned toward the door.
She waited for him downstairs. All he had to do is take her.
“Ach!” He looked away and yanked a drawer open. He came across another nightdress. His hand caressed the softness of the fabric. For a fleeting moment he thought of how her skin felt beneath his hands. “Stop it!” He scolded himself and slammed the dresser drawer shut.
When he made it back downstairs and entered the study, he fumbled to keep the candleholder in his grip. Arianna had discarded her wet garments, draping a small knit blanket around her, her long legs exposed to his view. His mind was a crazy mixture of hope, desire… panic. He swallowed the lump formed in his throat and tried to look anywhere but at her smooth visible skin.
“Here, put this on.” He thrust the clothing at her.
“I hope you don’t mind that I used the blanket to dry off with.”
He didn’t meet her gaze.
“I was beginning to get chilled waiting for you.”
“Why would I mind then?” he said, though he did mind. He walked over to his desk. He needed a distraction, but his pretense wasn’t working. Dear God, she’s naked under the blanket. How did she expect him to remain aloof, when she purposely exposed herself? He had a mind to teach her lesson and take her. She couldn’t play with his emotions like this.
“Keldon?”
Was she dressed? A part of him hoped not.
“Keldon?”
Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he answered her. “Aye. I am listenin’.”
“How did we meet?” Her voice floated over him like a soft caress.
What did she expect him to say? All he knew, he couldn’t remain in the same room with her much longer, and still keep his pride. “It’s late,” he ignored her question. “We best be gettin’ some sleep before the sun rises.” He turned to face her. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. She wore the nightgown he’d given her. “Go to bed, Annabelle. I’ll take care of the fire.”
She looked like she was about to protest, but in the end she nodded, leaving him to his misery.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Over her breakfast of warm oatmeal, toast and tea, Arianna studied Keldon’s face, feature by feature, reacquainting herself with the man she had chosen to marry. She loved the way his dark hair waved right below his ears, and how dark thick lashes framed his cat-like green eyes. His muscles stretched beneath his white cotton shirt while his sun-bronzed skin peeked out from the collar and the cuffs.
Last night, she felt the undercurrent of attraction between them. She didn’t understand why Keldon denied them. She couldn’t sleep last night as she thought about the way his strong hands had touched her with such gentleness, and yet Keldon ordered her to bed as if he felt nothing. She knew his indifference to be a lie.
Had he always pushed her away? Was this why she took Nicholas Sherborn to her bed?
Keldon could feel her intent gaze upon him, and he fought the temptation to look at her. He found himself raging against a war of emotions that both confused, as well as excited him. With his heart, he despised Annabelle, but his traitorous body obviously didn’t give a damn.
Half in anticipation, half in dread, he lifted his head to look at her. Their gazes touched. All the loneliness and hurt welded together in one upsurge of devoured yearning. He fought his desperation to scoop her up into his arms and carry her upstairs. As if his own reaction wasn’t enough, he witnessed the same desire mirrored in the blue depths of her eyes.
A deep flush spread across her face, but she didn’t shy away. "Do we always eat in silence?” She broke his train of thought.
Perhaps he misread the meaning in her eyes. He sighed. Silence didn’t describe their relationship. Explosive would be more of the word he’d use.
"No’ verra often," he finally answered hoping it would suffice her.
Arianna put her spoon down with a clatter. “Just what do we talk about?”
Innocence surrounded her like a halo of beauty, angering him. He wanted to shake her into remembering what they had meant to each other, which had been nothing. They argued, they screamed, but they never had a civil conversation. He opened his mouth to tell her how she destroyed the promise of their love snuffing it out before it had the chance to flourish, but the hateful words choked in his throat. She waited, chewing on her lower lip as if she were afraid of what he’d say. He cursed. For a moment, he would have sworn he looked upon a stranger.
Leighton entered the room. He must have heard Arianna’s question and since Keldon couldn’t find his tongue, Leighton took it upon himself to lend a hand. "Ye speak of many things, the two of ye do.” Leighton sat down.
Keldon lifted his brow and pursed his mouth together in annoyance. What was Leighton up to?
"Like what?" Arianna persisted.
"Like what yer plans are for the day," Leighton answered as he dished out a large helping of oatmeal for himself.
Keldon’s eyes bore down on Leighton with a warning.
Arianna knew the look said keep quiet. Well, she didn’t want Leighton to hush up. She wanted to know more about her life and unfortunately, since she couldn’t remember any of it for herself, she had to rely on them. "What do we do all day? Do I work?”
Both Keldon and Leighton wore identical expressions. One would think she’d asked a humorous question. Well, she hadn’t. She folded her hands and waited.
Keldon cleared his throat. "Nay, ye have never worked a day in yer life."
She didn’t believe him. For heaven’s sake, she had to do something with her time. She felt the screams of frustration at the back of her throat, but she willed herself to remain calm. In a defensive gesture, she folded her arms across her chest, never taking her eyes off either one of them. "Please tell me then, what do I do?”
"Ye call on yer friends and they call on ye," Keldon said, as though she should know this.
Visiting friends, all day couldn’t be very fulfilling. “That’s all?”
"Aye.” Keldon nodded.
Arianna’s eyebrows came together as she absorbed this information. She wasn’t sure if she should believe him, but for the moment, she supposed she had no choice. "And what do you, two do?” She could barely wait to hear the story, for she knew they wouldn’t tell her they were pirates. She leaned forward in eager anticipation, watching the two men exchange worried glances.
"We take care of the plantation.” Her husband didn’t quite meet her gaze.
"I thought you had slaves for that," she countered thoroughly enjoying the man’s discomfort.
"Aye, but there are other things which require my attention.” Keldon squirmed in his seat.
"Oh.” She was silent for a moment and she was sure the men thought her curiosity had been satisfied. They were wrong. "Can I hang out with you, Keldon?”
Again, the two men exchanged bewildered glances. Leighton shrugged his shoulders indicatin
g he had no idea what she was asking.
"What do ye mean by hang out?” Keldon braved to inquire.
She sighed. One would think she spoke another language. "You know hang out. Let me see what you do all day. Get reacquainted with each other. Maybe being with you will spark some kind of memory.” She leaned forward and lightly ran her fingers across Keldon’s arm.
He jumped out of his seat and the chair flew back, toppling to the ground.
“Are ye all right?” Leighton looked at Keldon then to Arianna.
No, he wasn’t all right. Keldon thought. What did Annabelle think she was doing? Touching him, asking to spend the day with him. Who was this woman? “Nay.” He couldn’t have her with him all day, especially with how he reacted to her last night and how she was looking at him now. Those looks were dangerous. “I have errands to run.” He wasn’t lying exactly. He planned to check on the heifer that was about to give birth. The poor beast was small and far too young to have an offspring. He anticipated a problem. When the heifer’s time came, he needed to be there to help.
Then Keldon knew of a way to be free of her. "This is yer day to visit the women in town. Ye do yer stitchin’."
"Oh.” Arianna sucked in a shallow breath and looked away. "I suppose I should follow my same routines."
"Aye, that would be best.” Keldon bent down and righted the chair, leaning against the back of it for support.
When Arianna finally went upstairs to gather up what she needed for her excursion, Keldon turned on Leighton. “What was with yer misleadin’ questions? Ye encouraged her to interrogate us.”
"Annabelle is far better no’ rememberin' how she once was. She’d be verra dangerous to us if she were her auld self. If she doesnae have her auld memories, then ye invent ones to serve our purpose."
"Ye want me to lie to her?” Keldon sat back down in his chair, not believing what he heard. He may not like or trust his wife, but he refused to stoop to falsehoods.
Leighton smiled, oblivious to how Keldon felt about his suggestion. "Aye. Ye ken me well. She’s yer wife. Ye must take care of her, so she doesnae trouble us."
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