His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

depth of his anger, but his words infuriated her too much to exercise any caution. "You bastard!" She leapt to her feet and stood upon the bed. "Just who do ye think ye are to talk to me so, to make such accusations?"

"I am the fool that stood watching ye cuddle and plot with that cursed Adonis."

"Cuddle and plot? Cuddle and plot?" She stomped across the bed to glare at him. "I was doing no such thing, ye great fool."

"Nay? Did he nay ask ye to come and stay at his keep?"

"Aye, he asked me." Storm hopped off the bed, moved to the table that served as her vanity and began to brush her hair, an action she favored when she was in a temper. "He asked and I said nay, thank ye very much. There is your plot."

Making a mocking noise, Tavis sat on the bed. "And of course ye gave it nay a thought."

"Oh, aye, I fancy a change," she snapped, furious over his distrust. " 'Tis my aim in life to hop from bed to bed. I have decided to follow in my stepmother's footsteps. After all, what is a little whoring to a woman already dishonored? I think I will see if I can outdo Lady Mary in number and variety. There is a fine goal to set for myself."

"God's teeth, dinnae act the offended one with me," he snarled, sent further into rage by the way she was talking. "Everyone there saw how he couldnae keep his hands off ye and how ye didnae stop him."

"He kissed my palm. I have had my hand kissed before. It means naught and well ye know it."

"And touched your hair as weel as caressed your face. There is nay a common practice."

"Nay, 'tis the act of a practiced seducer. Do not tell me ye did not recognize it," she sneered.

"Aye, I recognized it and I recognized how ye were melting for the rogue as weel. I saw the glaze in your eyes as if ye had been knocked half conscious. Sitting so close and listening to all his pretty lies. Staring into each other's eyes like a pair o' mooncalves. 'Tis nay love he offers ye, lass. The man just wants atween your legs," he snapped. "He wants to ride ye as he has half the lasses in Scotland."

"Do ye think I do not know that?" she asked calmly. "I am not stupid. I know exactly what he wanted."

As Tavis had ranted, Storm had felt her anger leave her. Recalling the story Alex had told her of Tavis's first love, she began to understand his distrust. She also began to see something behind all his anger. For a brief instant, when she had caught his eye in the mirror, she had seen a vulnerable boy.

It was almost laughable to her that Tavis MacLagan, a man as important to her as breathing, was unsure of his ability to hold on to a woman. As she thought on it, she realized that his first love's falseness had probably only been the start, that women had pursued him not just as a man but as the heir of Caraidland. There had always been some motive of greed behind their attentions. It was now perhaps a little difficult for him to believe that a woman could want him only for his worth as a man and be satisfied.

Her problem would be to convince him that such was the case with her without revealing all that she felt for him. Storm saw his vulnerability as a result of wounded pride and a crippled sense of self-worth, but nothing concerning her personally, or the fact that she talked with Alex. Her love for him made her want to help him, but her own pride kept her not wanting him to discover why she wanted only him. She decided physical need was the route to follow.

That brought her to the intricate problem of how to accomplish that. Although she had made no attempts to hide her pleasure in their lovemaking, she was always the relatively passive partner. Her contribution to the act was the gift of her passion. He initiated the loving, directed and controlled it. Mayhaps the only way to prove to him that he was all she desired was to take the lead, to be bold for a change and to make love to him.

Still new at the game, she was unsure of how to do that. Suddenly she felt she knew how. She would simply do to him as he did to her. She would caress him, be as thorough in her explorations as he was. For once she would not let modesty and maidenly shyness hold her back. She was either going to thoroughly disgust him or convince him that it was him alone she appreciated and who could stir her passions.

"The same thing ye wanted quick enough," he groused. "I could see weel enough that ye wanted him."

Moving to stand before him, she said quietly, "Alexander MacDubh is a man to stir any woman's blood."

Tavis scowled, so caught up in his anger that he paid no attention to the way she was undoing his tunic. "Did ye fancy spending the night romping with the lad?"

"There is no denying that he is one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen." She unlaced his shirt.

He frowned absently as he watched her. "Would ye have me believe ye felt naught for him?"

"Nay. Ye would not believe me an I said so." She felt him tense beneath her hands. "That man is so perfectly beautiful that he stuns a person. Everything about him is perfectly suited for the seduction of a woman. Soft, beguiling eyes, perfection of face and form, a voice that caresses like the most skillful hands."

"What are ye about?" he snapped as she bent to remove his shoes, piqued at the way she spoke so fulsomely of Alex.

"I am undressing ye, you silly man," she said calmly.

Grabbing her by