The Scottish Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 6)

He managed, finally, to bring himself up just a bit, and he kissed her mouth. “Mary Rose,” he said between light, nipping kisses, “can you feel me inside you?” He started moving slowly, easily, and the pleasure made him want to shout and sing, perhaps even dance.

“Yes,” she said, leaned up and kissed his shoulder and moved beneath him. “Yes, I can. It is a wondrous feeling, Tysen. Thank you for showing me what was what.”

He saw their two bodies together, and he realized that it was the first time in his life that he had ever had a woman’s body pressed against his. “Are you sore?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. I rather like this, Tysen.”

And he laughed again and kissed her, still laughing, and then he wanted very much to touch her again, to feel her tense and go wild when she gained her climax, and it just happened. He slid his hand between them and found her and watched her eyes go vacant. He was, he thought, a man who was very happy. Surely that wasn’t bad, a husband who enjoyed his wife. Surely.

There was a knock on the door.

Tysen opened an eye but didn’t move. He said, “I don’t care what is going on, even if Erickson MacPhail is back intending to steal you away again, I don’t want to move. Don’t you move, either. You’ve got to be safe from him since you’re lying beneath me.”

She laughed, squeezed him hard, and called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Meggie.”

Tysen opened an eye. “I have a daughter. I also have two sons. At the moment I can’t remember their names.” He smiled a bit at that. “At least Meggie knocked.”

They’d just managed to pull apart when the door opened and Meggie stuck her head in. “Good morning. It is nearly eight o’clock, you know. Shall I bring you breakfast, Papa? Mary Rose, are you all right? Are you still talking to Papa? Telling him things? Do you still like Papa?”

Tysen sighed deeply and said, “She adores me, Meggie, and yes, we would love some breakfast.”

“Yes, Meggie, I still like your papa.”

The door closed and Tysen turned to face her. He pulled her hard against him, felt her breasts, her belly, the length of her smooth legs. “So what do you think of being married to me so far?”

“I lied to Meggie,” she said, and pushed back the covers. “I more than like her papa. Being married to you so far is splendid. I had never in my life imagined feeling such things.” She started to get out of bed, remembered that she was naked, and stopped cold. She turned quickly to see her new husband, the covers at his ankles, also quite naked, and he was staring at her as if he didn’t know what to do either.

She didn’t move, just kept staring. He didn’t move either, and he also just kept staring. She swallowed, and her hand fluttered, then fell back to the sheet. “Tysen, we are unclothed.”

She was staring at him, not at his face but at his sex, and he felt pinned. It was the first time a woman had ever seen him naked, and this woman seemed to be very interested in him. Melinda Beatrice had always averted her eyes whenever he’d chanced, by accident, to be naked with her anywhere near. “Mary Rose?”

“You are a beautiful man, Tysen,” she said, and stood. She started to cross her arms over her breasts, then, almost defiantly, she dropped her arms back to her sides. “I suppose it is ridiculous for me to be embarrassed, since you saw me while I was so ill.”

“That’s right,” he heard himself say, as if from a great distance, and then he took his own turn looking at her. “It’s different now, though,” he said. “You see, now you’re smiling at me, and you’re moving about and you are very alive and warm and your face is a bit flushed and your hair is incredible, Mary Rose.”

She squeaked and dashed to pick up her nightgown from the floor near the washbasin. She pulled it over her head, then chanced to look at the basin. “Tysen, oh, my God.”

Her voice was a thin, wispy sound that had him out of bed in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

He was at her side in a minute.

She could only point to the bloody water in the basin.

“It’s from your maidenhead,” he said, vastly relieved. “It’s nothing to worry about, I promise you.”

She turned then, looked him up and down, mainly down, her look very interested, and he flushed, couldn’t seem to help himself. He reached for her and pulled her close, both, he supposed, to preserve his modesty and because in truth he wanted her against him again. He breathed in the scent of her, the light rose smell of her hair, the smell of himself, and the smell of sex.

“Do you forgive me now, Mary Rose?”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, feeling him against her, and she couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened. “Oh, yes. I think you are the finest husband in the world.” She pulled back more and looked down at him. “And the most beautiful. A man—you are so very different from me. I think you are incredible, Tysen.” And she reached down and touched him. He moaned and jerked, but he didn’t pull away, just kept holding her against him, wishing she would touch him again, and knowing it was best if she didn’t.

He didn’t say a thing. He couldn’t think of a thing to say, in any case. She thought he was beautiful? That male part of him? He held her even more tightly. He was hard, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Luckily for him, there was a knock on the door. He slowly separated from her, sighed, and fetched his own dressing gown.

“You have a letter from Douglas,” Sinjun called out when Tysen and Mary Rose, holding hands now, both smiling like loons and trying not to look self-conscious, came down the front staircase.