Page 44 of Never Kiss a Scot
“This is my study. You may visit me anytime here. Unlike some men, I will not bar any of my home from you. Every room is as much yours as it is mine.” He opened the door, and she followed him into the study. A man sat at the large desk, poring over account books.
“Ah, Tate, there you are. Allow me to introduce you to Joanna, my wife.”
“Wife?” Tate rose from his chair, frowning slightly at Joanna. “You have married, my lord? I received no letter about such a thing.”
Joanna stared at Mr. Tate, shocked that the steward of the estate had taken such a tone with his master.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to inform you.” Brock stared at Tate. “Joanna is Rosalind’s sister-in-law by marriage, and now she is my wife. Joanna, Mr. Tate is the brother to the cook, Mrs. Tate. Mrs. Tate isn’t married, but we’ve always called her missus for as long as I can remember,” he explained to Joanna before turning back to his steward. “Mr. Tate, please make sure Joanna has everything she needs.”
Tate closed the account books and bowed formally to Joanna.
“I apologize, my lady. I was shocked to hear of the sudden wedding, that is all.” He offered her a smile, but it wasn’t as warm as she’d hoped.
“Thank you, Mr. Tate.” Joanna smiled at him, trying to be cordial.
“Why don’t I show you to your rooms,” Brock said, and then they left Mr. Tate to his business in Brock’s study.
They went up the elegant winding staircase and down one of the corridors. Joanna stared at the lovely tapestries lining the walls. One depicted a unicorn trapped in a small circular fence. There was something about the scene, the tranquil immortal creature allowing itself to be captive while flowers bloomed around it and the animals in the woods looked upon the snowy-white beast in fascination and awe.
“My mother loved this tapestry.” Brock’s rich voice rumbled from behind her, pulling her out of the spell of the intricately woven tapestry for a moment.
“It’s beautiful.” Joanna gazed at the almost shimmering strands of the white thread. The unicorn almost seemed to breathe in the light coming from the windows opposite. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt a sudden mix of joy and sorrow at the sight.
Brock placed a hand on her waist, and the comforting touch sent a bolt of excitement through her. She turned so she could see his face. His dark brows arched over his storm cloud–colored eyes. They made her think of the summer storms that swept over fields of bending trees and bursting with lightning. Beautiful, frightening, and yet so full of life and energy.
She reached up, gripping his waistcoat at the neck and tugging his head down to hers. She needed to kiss him. In a strange way, it seemed that she could express herself with small, little things like kisses when words failed her.
He returned the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips as he moved her backward, pressing her against the unicorn tapestry. The sun-warmed cloth heated her back, and she felt cocooned between it and Brock’s body. He mastered her mouth with wicked kisses that flushed her with heat and hunger in equal measure. It never seemed like enough. One kiss from him was a spark inside a tinderbox. She lit up, as though lightning was surging through her in violent, powerful explosions. All from one kiss.
When they broke apart long minutes later, Brock was breathing hard. He closed his eyes as their faces touched. His fingers held on to her hips, digging in as he recovered his breath.
“Is it always like this?” she asked, still clutching his waistcoat collar.
“I…” He hesitated. “I’ve been with a few women before—not many, mind, but a few—and it has never come close to this, lass. Not like it is with you.” His lips softened into a seductive smile that seemed almost boyish in its charm. Her heart skittered in her chest.
“Truly?” She felt foolish for wanting him to reassure her, but she was falling in love with him bit by bit, like sliding down a rain-slicked hill in the spring. Soon she would be hopelessly in love with him, and it terrified her to think she would be the only one who felt that way.
“Aye. You are different from all the rest.” He nuzzled her before stealing another faint kiss, and the ghostly press of his mouth to hers was felt down to her core. It was not a kiss to seduce nor to inflame desire. It was one that expressed affection, to linger like a sweet dream.
“Come.” He led her down the corridor and stopped in front of a closed door.
“These will be your private chambers for when you wish to be alone. I understand that gentle ladies need their private sanctuaries.” He opened the door for her and showed her inside. The room was circular and very unusual. A fireplace was to the right and a four-poster bed to the left. There were two large windows, one close to the fireplace and one closer to the bed.
“Are we in the tower?” she asked, trying to make sense of the large circular space.
“Aye. There are a few large spaces such as these. My mother converted them into guest chambers when she reminded my father that we were no longer fighting the English and had no need for armories and such.”
Joanna gazed at the room in wonder. Perhaps it’d once been a medieval armory, but all she saw now was a place of peace, decorated with feminine touches. The bed coverlet was a pretty shade of emerald with gold fringe, and the vanity was made of a beautiful rosewood with a mirror inlaid into it. Everything in the room was elegant.
“What do you think? Will it do?” Brock asked, his hopeful tone so endearing that she turned to look at him, her fingertips still trailing along the dusty surface of the vanity.
“It’s perfect, but…” She felt a blush rise up in her cheeks.
“But?” He hung up on the word, worry clouding his eyes.
“But I do not share a chamber with you?” she asked. It was well known that most husbands and wives did not share bedchambers, except in rare circumstances. Those couples who were deeply in love often shared one chamber. Joanna desperately wanted that, to feel him beside her each night. She craved that quiet intimacy of two people sleeping close enough to share their dreams in the dark.
“You wish to share a chamber with me?” Brock asked uncertainly.
