Page 29 of I’ve Grown Accustomed to My Scot

Rory raised his eyebrows. “I will pay. You should no’ feel you have to ask, Grace. That is no’ something you should be worrying about.”

“But you have already done so much. I’m not sure I will be able to repay you . . .”

He made an impatient sound. “You dinna have to. We are married. I would no’ expect you to scrimp and save on my account. I will see that you have pin money when you need it.”

“Thank you then,” she said rather stiffly.

With a sigh, he came inside the room and closed the door, moving toward her. The way he walked, prowled, so sure and confident of himself. It made her heartbeat pick up as if she wasn’t sure whether to run to him. Or run away from him.

“You are my wife, Grace, and as such, you are welcome to all that is mine. You do no’ have to ask.”

She blinked at this sudden change of heart. “That wasn’t what you said before we were married.”

He picked up her pen and put it down again. “Things have changed.”

“Have they?” She gave him a keen look.

“You caused them to change,” he said flatly and raised his auburn brows. “We are linked together now, married in truth. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

It was, of course it was. She was safe now. Or was she? Being together physically meant her feelings were engaged, they couldn’t help but be. And that meant that he could hurt her in ways he would not have been able to before.

“You were going to find me somewhere to live,” she heard herself say. “A place I can invite my sisters to stay.”

“I was. There’s no hurry.”

Again, Grace marveled at the change in him. When they married, he had assured her he would plan for her future, and now there was no hurry? She swallowed and asked the question she did not want to ask. “Aren’t you returning to Scotland soon?”

“There’s no hurry for that either,” he said.

He reached out and took her hand in his. Her fingers fluttered and he lifted them to his lips, sucking on the tip of first one and then another. She watched him wide-eyed. The sensation of his warm mouth on her skin was stirring those feelings inside her as well as that ache between her thighs, and he must know it because he smiled.

“Did Buckingham do this?” he asked softly. When she shook her head, he looked pleased. “It seems that Buckingham knew very little when it came to what women enjoy.” He sounded arrogant, but again, she liked it.

Grace moved closer, resting one hand on his shoulder. “Is that why you are here?” she said, her voice low. “To find out what Bolton did?”

He caught her around the waist and bent his head, his warm breath against her lips. “I think you know why I am here, wife.”

And she did. Her mouth brushed his and her eyelids closed.

“You have awoken the wolf in me,” he growled. “Are you sorry?”

Her eyelids lifted, they were very heavy. “No,” she breathed, “I am not sorry at all.”

*

Rory smiled as he claimed her mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. There was something about her taste that had lodged in him, as if he recognized it. He knew now what he had been running from when he went riding so early. It was this. Somehow Grace had wangled her way inside him until he wanted her every minute of the day.

He wanted her now, desperately.

She was as desperate for him too, pressing close. He lifted her onto the edge of the desk, and she clasped him with her legs. She reached down at the same time as him, fumbling with the fastenings on his pantaloons. He groaned with relief when his cock was free, and nudged against her warm, slick entrance.

He hesitated, fighting the urge to thrust deep, his voice a husky rasp, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she squeaked. “Yes, Rory.”

“Thank God,” he said, and holding her hips drove inside her. Her eyes widened as they looked into his. It felt so good he couldn’t speak for a moment, and neither could she. He nuzzled against her cheek, his lips sliding to her mouth. The kiss was deep and passionate, and for a moment he forgot where he was. He may even have forgotten who he was.

Suddenly she asked him, breathless, “Is the door locked?”