She moved back on the bed, rag still in hand, and lay on her side facing him. Genevieve pulled the hide up and under her breasts and stared at the intricate markings that covered the entire width of his shoulders and moved down his spine. The design that covered the broad expanse was a cross of intricate detail, one that looked like it must have been painful, but then again, her husband was a man of power and strength.
Her heart was pounding hard and fast, but she still found herself reaching out and running the pads of her fingers along the four points of the cross. The dark lines covered him from shoulder to shoulder and dipped all the way down to his lower back. It was a massive design, with a Celtic pattern inside the cross that mesmerized her.
But it was the massively huge raised line of a battle scar woven between those Celtic knots that hypnotized her. She moved her finger down the scar that lined his side. It had to be from a sword, judging by the length of it, and the puckered flesh made her realize this man was lucky to even be alive. But then again, he didn’t have a reputation for being weak.
“Lass, if ye keep touchin’ me, I won’t be able tae stop myself from takin’ ye again,” Bronson said in a sleepy, husky voice that had her instantly stilling. She held her hand close to her chest and felt her cheeks heat again. He turned around so he was now on his back with his head turned toward her. His dark hair was mussed around his head, and for a moment, she could picture him as only a man looking at his wife. It seemed so silly to think something like that, because that was what he was. But he wasn’t just any man. He looked at the wet rag she still held. “Ye were gonna’ clean me, lass?”
She nodded and glanced down at the material. “Aye, if that would be okay?”
He reached out, took the rag, and cleaned himself before tossing the rag aside. “Ye’re not a servant, love. Yer my wife.”
She nodded and felt slightly uncomfortable and embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I dinna mean tae touch ye when ye were sleeping.” She felt her face get even hotter and went to turn away, but Bronson reached out and cupped her cheek in his big hand.
“Lass, ye donna need tae apologize. I liked that ye touched me.” He grinned, but it was only the corner of his mouth that lifted. “I just donna want ye tae have tae clean me.” Seeing him smile changed his entire face. With the only light coming from the fireplace, the slashes of golden color moved along his face and upper body. “No need to be embarrassed, lass.” He grinned fully this time, and the flash of his straight white teeth brightened his hardened exterior.
“This whole life is new tae me,” she said softly.
He shifted so he was on his back once more, lifted his arm above his head. She went back to touching him. He used his other hand to point to the scar she was now running her finger along. “I got this one when I was defeating Clan Klandine over on the Leelanni Lock.” He glanced down at the scar and stopped when the end of it reached his navel. “Their leader, Glandoff, got me with his sword. It was a clean cut, and he was aiming tae cut me in half, I’d assume.”
“That must have been verra painful and frightening.”
“Aye, verra painful, but frightening?” He stared right in her eyes and then lifted up, so he braced himself on an elbow now. He was only an inch from her mouth, and his warm breath teased her lips. “Nay, I am never frightened, lass.”
“But how can ye not be?” She glanced down at his scar again and lifted her hand to run her finger over it once more. She felt this power come from him, this intensity that said Bronson truly didn’t fear pain or death or the things that could happen out on the battlefield. He was still so close to her mouth, and in the next second, without even answering her question, he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her. It wasn’t a kiss that stole her breath or one that made her heart beat frantically. It was a kiss that was slow, sweet, and almost like he was saying for her not to worry about anything.
He pulled back but only an inch. “Why fear what we canna control?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Life is about give and take. Ye have tae take it by the bollocks, live it tae the fullest, and have no regrets.”
He spoke so passionately that Genevieve couldn’t help but feel the power behind it right to her bones. “I guess I would just have tae live the life ye lead in order tae understand it all,” she said.