Her Scottish Groom Read online

  “Oui, milord. Shall I inform Davison of the change in plans?” A hint of laughter hid behind the question.

  “That would be most thoughtful of you.” He grinned as Diantha frowned at his high-handedness. She lightly pushed at his chest.

  “I shall require you to do my hair before dinner, Florette.”

  “Oui, milady. I shall return later.”

  Kieran’s mouth covered hers before she could reply. A few minutes later, however, he lifted his head with a smothered curse.

  “The kitchen doesn’t know we’re dining in here.” After a last hard kiss, he rearranged his neckcloth with the help of the mirror over the tiny washstand. “I think it would be best if we occupied ourselves separately before dinner.” Seeing her disappointed expression, he arched a wicked eyebrow. “Savor the anticipation.”

  Diantha wasn’t sure if he meant the meal or something else.

  After his departure, she tried to write in her journal but could not formulate coherent sentences. Finally, she gave up and dozed in her berth until Florette bustled in.

  In the dressing room, the normally placid maid hummed under her breath as she brushed out the rich brown hair and pinned it up again. She took especial care tonight, even taking part of it down and repinning it until she was satisfied. Supposing she enjoyed having extra time to fuss over the hairstyle, Diantha sat patiently under her ministrations.

  When the maid finished, she regarded her reflection with some surprise. Instead of following the latest fashion plates, the maid had smoothed her hair back into loose waves that looked as if they would fall out of their own accord. When she quizzed her, Florette just shrugged.

  “I thought something different would do for tonight.” A small smile played about the older woman’s mouth as she turned to gather up unused hairpins.

  Hoping the mass would stay in place, she entered the dining room where Kieran waited for her. His look of admiration as he took in her appearance reassured her, although her confidence faltered when the steward opened a bottle of champagne. She had not touched a drop of alcohol since her miserable wedding day.

  As if guessing her thoughts, Kieran poured out a glass and handed it to her. “Don’t be afraid to drink it. You won’t get a hangover from one or two glasses of wine.” She accepted it and took a cautious sip. “Have you ever had champagne before?”

  She shook her head and he lifted his glass. “To firsts, then.” She took another drink from her glass, enjoying the tickle of bubbles over her tongue.

  A knock announced the arrival of the steward with dinner. The ship’s kitchen lacked the capacity to serve multicourse meals, but the quality for firstclass passengers equaled that of the finest hotels. Starting with barley soup, they worked their way through roast pork, stuffing, and haricots.

  The presence of the stewards required their conversation to be general in nature, but Diantha sensed a difference in her husband from their previous dinners in their suite. He focused on her more closely, and his speech lost its formality as he described his travels in Italy. It almost seemed to her that he regarded her as more of a person this evening.

  He even teased her about having a sweet tooth when the steward placed dishes of pale custard speckled with nutmeg in front of them. Naturally he would never behave so intimately while dining with others, but she found herself worrying less about his disapproval. When she stood to withdraw to her own room, she repressed a sigh of regret. Doubtless he would now visit the saloon for his evening brandy.

  Florette waited for her, ready to help her out of her dress. When she saw what the maid had laid out, she emitted a small shriek. “Where on earth did that come from?”

  The maid lifted up a short-sleeved confection with a bodice consisting largely of lace. “It was in your trunk, milady.”

  “My mother would never order something like this.” She looked over her shoulder, half expecting Mama to enter the room in a blaze of outrage.

  “Well, whoever did, it is quite charming. If milady will hold still, I will unbutton your gown.” With Florette’s assistance, she donned the scanty nightgown. It looked even more shameless on. Her aureoles were visible through the fine lace bodice, and the wide neck nearly bared her shoulders. The only thing keeping it in place was a line of three ribbon ties. It had a matching robe of sorts, made of more nearly transparent lace.

  She scurried into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin as soon as Florette bid her good night. Even her berth seemed different tonight. Then she realized why. The maid had pulled out the extension to double its width. She had not noticed earlier thanks to her distraction over her indecent nightwear.

  A light tap sounded on the connecting door to Kieran’s room. “Diantha? May I enter?”

  As her tongue suddenly glued itself to the roof of her mouth, it was fortunate he let himself in. His appearance undid her composure further, for he wore the wine-colored robe and a pair of pyjama trousers, as he had on their wedding night. The corner of his mouth quirked up as she stared at him, clutching the sheets in a death-grip under her chin.

  “Surely you’re not surprised after our earlier encounter?”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be.” She licked dry lips. “But you could have been more specific about your intentions at dinner.”

  “With the stewards in the room? That would have been highly improper.” For some reason, he appeared to find her nerves highly amusing. When he seated himself on the edge of the berth, he grinned as she automatically scooted her legs away from his rear end.

  “You enjoyed our kisses this afternoon.” Kieran placed a light hand on her ankle, rubbing his thumb over the bone. She relaxed marginally at the unthreatening touch, but regarded him warily. “Would you like to start with another?”

  The question of what exactly they were starting leaped to the tip of her tongue. As she opened her mouth to ask, he increased the pressure on her leg and ran his palm firmly up her calf to just above her knee. She gasped at the sensation of warmth from his big hand on the lowest part of her thigh, even through the sheets.

  “You said if you did something in bed I disliked, I should tell you!”

  “Do you dislike this then?” His fingertips gently kneaded her muscles as he slid closer to the head of the bed. An alarming flash of pleasure coursed up to her very core.

  She shook her head. “No, but it scares me.”

  “Because it’s new?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. She nodded. Mercifully his hand left her thigh, although her skin still burned where it had rested.

  He leaned forward. “Then let’s try something we know you like.” His lips skimmed hers once before fastening greedily onto them. Pleasure jolted through her. Forgetting about the sheets, she wrapped her arms around him to pull him closer.

  He cradled her head in one hand as the other slipped around her waist. Eagerly, she opened herself to his searching tongue.

  As their mouths mated over and over again, she stroked the side of his face with her fingertips. Timidly at first, but when he showed no objection, she became bolder. She ran her hands over the high cheekbones, fascinated at the strength of his features.

  Then his mouth moved to her neck, and coherent thought fled. Panting, her heart pounded wildly as he planted open kisses on the tender column, swirling the tip of his tongue against her sensitive skin. She tried to lean back and offer more to his eager onslaught, but was prevented by her position against the headboard.

  Wriggling her hips, she tried to shimmy farther down in the bed. Guessing what she wanted, Kieran’s hand slid to the base of her spine to ease her into a prone position. Shivers ran over her at the pressure of his palm at the top of her buttocks.

  A soft moan escaped her that might have been his name.

  He returned to her mouth, hushing her with another kiss. “Careful, sweetheart, the partitions between berths aren’t terribly thick.” Trying to catch her breath, she stared, dazed, into his darkened eyes and tried to nod her understanding. Lying stretched out beside and
above her, she knew he had full access to her body, but she did not care until she felt the jab of something large and blunt against her thigh.

  Fear of the unknown jangled along her nerves and brought her back to herself. She lay next to a strange man in her bed, with only the bedclothes between their bodies. After a glance down, she realized that the sheets had ridden low on her breasts, exposing a great deal of the lacy bodice and the skin it purportedly covered.

  Kieran followed her glance and his eyes widened. “This is a great deal more attractive than that tent you wore before.”

  She tried to inch away as his fingertip traced the neckline, dipping to the first bow.

  “I had no idea it had been ordered, and I cannot believe Florette would have selected it. It’s indecent!”

  “Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “Let’s have a look, then.”

  “Kieran, really!” She struggled to keep a grip on the sheets, but he tugged them down easily. As he gazed down at her clearly visible breasts, she knew she had to be flushing bright pink all the way to her hairline. When he raised his eyes back to her face, they had darkened almost to green.

  “Definitely indecent.” A muscular thigh draped itself over her legs and he propped his head up on his elbow. “Florette is getting a raise.”

  “You cannot mean to tell me that I should wear things like this on a daily basis—are you even listening to me?” He seemed absorbed in stroking a lace-covered globe, exploring its fullness before circling her nipple with his palm. It puckered of its own accord, pushing its rosy nub against his hand.

  “You have my undivided attention.” He rolled the pink flesh between his finger and thumb. “Certainly I would enjoy seeing you in this on a nightly basis, because it would allow me to do this.”

  Leaning forward, he replaced his hand with his mouth. He lapped at the taut peak with tongue, teasing it through the lace, while his hand moved to her other breast, giving it the same ministrations.

  “Kieran!” She whimpered his name and buried her fingers in the almost black waves of hair as he suddenly suckled the hard nub. His lips and teeth gently abraded the sensitized flesh with the wet material. She arched into his mouth, welcoming the weight of his body as he settled over her.

  As he suckled her other nipple, her hips bucked against his, encountering that mysterious ridge of flesh once more. But this time, it added to the wild delight she experienced in Kieran’s arms. Rubbing against it, the secret place at the apex of her thighs came to life, pulsing with heat.

  “Exquisite breasts,” he murmured, lifting his head to kiss her mouth again. She shuddered as his hands continued the amorous onslaught for a moment before moving to the top bow on her bodice and pulling. His mouth moved down her neck, raining kisses across the top of the creamy mounds as the bodice loosened.

  His hands moved to the second bow. “Skin like warm silk.” He nibbled his way over each full curve, pushing the bodice open wider with his mouth.

  The third bow. He pulled the material completely off her shoulders and breasts, helping her free her arms from the tiny sleeves. Blowing on one moist peak until she writhed, he finally covered it with his warm mouth, licking and sucking. “Nipples like steel.”

  He gave the same treatment to the other one, until Diantha thought she would go up in flames. She grasped at his shoulders, her hands slipping under the embroidered satin to find the thick muscles of his chest.

  Her fingers encountered hair as well. Fascinated by the rough texture, she ran her fingertips over it before flattening her palms against the crisp mass. He lifted himself slightly and she pushed the neck of his robe farther apart.

  Complying with her unspoken demand, he raised himself up and shrugged out of the garment. Letting it fall to the floor, he stretched out beside her once more, inviting her to touch him as she pleased.

  Unsure for a moment, her gaze riveted onto the flat discs of his nipples. She glanced at him for permission before shyly imitating his earlier action, carefully pinching it to hardness with her thumb and fingers. He said nothing, only watched her with glittering eyes. When she leaned forward to swirl her tongue around it, he placed a big hand on the back of her head, pressing her to him, while he whispered his approval. Unfortunately, when she used her teeth, he hissed in pain.

  She drew back, stricken. “I am so sorry! I never meant to hurt you.”

  A smile flashed white in his face. “I know, darling girl, and I’m not angry at all. It’s no more than a lack of experience.” He stroked her arm. “Do you want to try again?”

  She shook her head. “Not if it hurts you.”

  “Start very gently and increase the pressure little by little, that’s all there is to it.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll tell you when it feels right.” After a little more coaxing, she tried again, attentive to his whispered directions.

  “Good girl. Did you like doing that to me?”

  She nodded shyly. “Do men like that done to them? I thought it felt wonderful.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t answer for other men, but I find it somewhat stimulating.” She dropped her eyes, disappointed that she had not pleased him better. As if reading her thoughts, he lifted her chin. “A woman’s nipples are far more sensitive than a man’s, which is why you liked it so much. I am thrilled to have a wife who thought to please me.”

  He eased her down to lay flat on her back and stretched out on his side. His warm hand stroked down her side, following the curve of waist to hip and coming to rest on her leg.

  Instinctively she closed her thighs, looking up at him anxiously.

  “I want to please you too, remember?” His thumb caressed the fragile skin of her inner thigh in small circles that somehow increased the heat higher up in her core.

  His wicked hand moved to her other thigh, fondling and massaging from her knee upward. She thought the fire in her core would scorch her before much longer. Shifting uncertainly she came against the silk-covered protrusion between his legs. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a breath and rubbed it against her.

  Instantly, she fidgeted away from him, but he would have none of that.

  “Open for me, Diantha.” His questing fingers worked at the nest of dark curls, seeking entrance to their hidden seam. One fingertip found its way into the moist folds.

  He muffled her exclamation of shock with his mouth as his hand explored places she herself was scarcely aware of. His finger slowly traced her most intimate opening, inside and out, before sliding up to a throbbing nubbin where all her nerve endings seemed to converge.

  As soon as he touched it, all thought ceased. Her eyes closed tightly at a series of soft upward strokes on the tender swell of flesh. Her hips rocked voluptuously as he circled and teased, wringing even more moisture from her body.

  She shivered as his voice vibrated in her ear, raw with lust. “So wet, darling, so good.” One thick digit slowly slid into her channel, withdrew and returned. “So tight.” A second one joined it, stretching her deliciously.

  Her entire body tightened as though in anticipation of some unknown event. His thumb strummed the sensitive nub while his fingers stroked deep within her, building the tension until she buried her face against Kieran’s neck to stifle her moans.

  Then she shattered. Her pelvis lifted off the sheets to thrust uncontrollably against his hand as she convulsed with pleasure over and over.

  Her universe contracted to their bed and their bodies. His muscular arm held her together as she clutched at the dark mat of hair covering his chest, nearly sobbing for breath. As the tremors subsided, he pulled her closer, stroking her hair. His voice crooned something in her ear, soothing her.

  In spite of his aching cock, Kieran did not move. His untried wife’s intense response astonished him. He had never experienced such a sense of power in bed, even with the most skilled of his mistresses. He grinned at the wall in delight as his free hand ran over her body.

  A twinge of pain struck his chest. He looked down to see her hand fisted in his
curls. Smiling a little, he disengaged it as tenderly as a mother would an infant’s.

  She looked up at him with hazy eyes. “Are you angry with me?” He shook his head, disbelieving the question, as she swallowed. “I don’t think ladies are supposed to behave that way.”

  “I don’t care how ladies are supposed to behave. You were wonderful.”

  Her radiant smile stole his breath away.

  “Thank you.” She shyly explored his torso with her fingertips, and he adjusted himself to give her better access. When she reached his waistband, however, she came to an abrupt halt, looking up at him nervously. “I don’t know what to do.”

  He rose from the berth. Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he slowly, deliberately untied the cord of his pyjamas. Her eyes widened as he lowered them, fully exposing his aching erection to her.

  “Kieran, please—I can’t possibly accommodate all that.” Her blue eyes pleaded with him in the lamplight, but the sight of her near-naked body on the berth only made him harder, if that was possible.

  He returned to the berth, grasping at the nightgown still crumpled around her hips. She pushed at his wrists, but failed to stop him from sliding the material down and off her body. The faint scent of her juices reached his nostrils, and he took a deep breath, fighting for self-control.

  “Do you trust me?” He could barely choke the words out as he fingered the moisture from her climax along her secret cleft, his desire so acute he feared he would go mad if she said no.

  Instead she gave him a small, frightened nod that nearly melted his heart.

  “Stay with me, sweet girl.” He whispered the words against her ear as he settled over her, parting her thighs to receive him fully. He rubbed his length against her engorged nub until she arched against him, arms locked around his waist.

  God, her innocent response to his lovemaking gave him pleasure he had never imagined possible. He could not deny his own need any longer. Reaching between them, he guided himself into her, grimacing with the effort it took not to thrust himself ruthlessly into the tight channel.