Page 10 of The Handfasting
She handed the cup back to No?l. He clasped his hands over hers to drink. His callused palms were warm on her knuckles. She felt that warmth travel along her arms, up her throat, into her face.
Perhaps the wine was stronger than she thought.
He gazed at her as he swallowed. His midnight blue eyes sparkled with delight.
After he lowered the cup, a droplet of red wine lingered on his lips. Ysenda fought a wild urge to steal it with a kiss. Thankfully, he lapped it up before she could do something so reckless.
His hands were still wrapped around hers on the cup. And she was in no hurry to cast them off.
“Do ye like it?” he murmured, lowering his smoky gaze to her lips.
She gulped. “Aye.”
His lip quirked up into a wry smile. “Would ye like more?”
Oh, aye, she thought, gazing at his delicious mouth. She’d like much more. More of his smiles… More of his kisses… More…
“Cathalin?” he prompted.
She blinked, then nodded, startled by the strange name and by how quickly astray her thoughts had gone.
But she didn’t dare let them wander. This was her sister Cathalin’s husband, not hers, no matter what vows they’d exchanged. She’d do well to remember that.
Silently toasting her serious intentions, she downed the second cup all at once.
No?l chuckled in amazement. “Yedolike it.” Then he curved a brow in warning. “But beware, lass, ’tis a wee bit stronger than what ye’re used to.”
She licked her lips. Itdidseem as if her skin was growing rather hot.
He refilled her cup a third time, giving her a coy wink that made her heart race.
Her sister was damned lucky. She hoped Cathalin realized how lucky she was.
Ysenda glanced over at her. Somehow, despite the haughty lift of Cathalin’s brow and the knowing smirk on her lips, she was still beautiful. Ysenda wondered if she ever looked ugly.
Sighing, she lowered her eyes to her wine. Her father was right about one thing. One of his daughters was probably going to wed a grizzled old sheepherder. And it wouldn’t be Cathalin.
“Are ye not pleased,cherie?” No?l asked.
Cherie.He’d called hercherie.And the concern in his furrowed brows was sincere.
Damn! It wasn’t fair that demanding Cathalin was going to win such a prize. Men like him should be loved and adored, not scorned. She felt sorry for the sweet and noble knight.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, instinctively touching his chest in pity. When she realized what she’d done, she tried to pull her hand back. But he caught it and clasped it against his chest, over his heart.
“I am yours,cherie,heart and soul, from this day forward.”
Maybe it was just the wine, but his words made tears gather in her eyes. How she wished that could be true. And how she wished she could hold on to that promise forever.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I want nothin’ more than to keep ye happy.”
Her heart melted. Bloody hell. Her sister was going to make mince out of the poor man.
It startled No?l to realize that what he’d said was true. He wanted to please his new wife. He wanted to watch her lovely gray eyes light up with joy and see her pretty pink mouth widen in a smile.
He wasn’t the sort of man to believe in love at first glance. But there was something about his bride that bewitched him.
Meanwhile, she was draining her third cup of wine with astonishing haste, like a warrior bracing for battle. He feared the wee lass would drink herself into oblivion if she wasn’t careful.
