Epilogue
Come hither, my love, my bonnie love...
— Iain Montgomerie Ogilvie
Noel held up a finger to his lips to stop Jenna from greeting him, as he noiselessly entered the lord’s chamber. Skena’s back was to the door and the maidservant was soaping her shoulders with a cloth. Jenna smiled dreamily as she spotted him. He winked at her and then flicked two fingers toward the door in a silent dismissal. Giving a nod, she passed him the rag, and then tiptoed from the room. At the doorway the young woman paused, a wistful smile molded her face, before she gently closed the door.
“The lavender and the heat be relaxing,” Skena murmured and then sighed, as he trailed the cloth over her beautiful shoulders and neck. “I could stay here all night, I fear, but help me out of the water before Noel returns.”
“Noel has returned,” he whispered against her ear, then laughed as she jumped.
Her face alight, Skena turned partially around and gave him a drowsy smile. “Noel.”
“I checked on Muriel and the children. All sleep soundly.” Leaning forward, he kissed the back of her neck, then grinned as it raised gooseflesh. “You are giving me that come hither smile, hoping I will forget I promised to beat you once I got you back to Craigendan.”
She rotated even more and then fluttered her eyelashes. “Come hither, Noel de Servian.”
“Oh, you live dangerously, my lady.” He dropped the rag and reached backward to tug his sark off over his head. He dropped it on the bench and sat down beside it to unlace his boots.
Skena watched him with hungry eyes, as he stood and undid the front of his chausses and then push them off along with his braies. “Ah, my braw husband.”
“Braw? Just braw?” He arched his brow. “Not beautiful?”
Her bare shoulder gave a small shrug. “Mayhap...hmm...a wee bit bonnie.”
“Bonnie? But not beautiful?” he taunted.
“’Tis spake that men do no’ like being called beautiful.” Skena tried to play innocent.
“Well, this one loves it.” Pushing her forward in the tub, he started to step into the hot water behind her.
“Och, what are you doing?” she gasped.
He gave a low throaty chuckle. “Well, I am coming…hither, wife.”
Scooting forward to give him a bit more room, her laughter bubbled forth as water splashed over the edge. “I am no’ sure we will both fit. As Muriel spake, there be so much of you.”
“Trust me. We will fit...perfectly.” He slid his legs carefully on either side of hers, and once settled, pulled her back against his chest. “Not too cramped, eh?”
“Mmmm.” Skena almost purred as his arm encircled her. “I agree...it might be nigh perfect. Such a clever husband have I.”
Noel nipped at her ear lobe, as his arms flexed to pull her tighter to him. “Shall you proclaim how clever I am after I beat you?”
“You will no’ beat me. You bray such nonsense―”
“Bray? How dare you compare me to a fool jackass, wench!” He flipped her in the tub, so she was half-draped across him, her right hip exposed above water. Feeling devilish, he planted his palm against her backside.
“Och, that stings,” she complained, but playfully, telling him that it did not sting too much. “Why did you do that?”
“To prove I am a man of my word. I said I would beat you―so consider yourself properly beaten, wife. Now you will obey me, not run off and scare me out of ten years of my life. I am not a young man. Never again should you trouble me in such a fashion.”
“Me? Trouble?” she spluttered as she rotated in the tub to face him.
“Aye, trouble. You go dashing about in snowstorms―” He started to rail at her, but she moved her thigh between his, rocking gently against his groin. “Ah, that is…distracting.”
“Merely trying to help you come…hither.” Skena pressed her breasts against his chest and then nipped his chin. “Seems to me that I was dashing about in the snow when I found one snowy knight. Where would you be if I had not been out causing trouble?”
Rolling his eyes, he pretended to think upon the question. “Hmm...I suppose instead of the wolf being in my belly, I would have been in his―”
Skena made a mournful face and thumped his chest. “How horrid! Never say such things. You do no’ ken how scared I was that night.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Aye, I do. I remember most of it. My valiant lady warrior. No one ever fought for me before you.” He stroked the back of his hand against her cheek. “I also recall how you faced the pack another time, to protect and provide for the people of Craigendan―another instance of you running about. I will not have it, Skena. Do not scare me like that ever again.”
“De Servian, do hush. Give me those kissing lessons to make me call you Noel again.”
Skena brushed her lips against his. “I love you, more than words can ever tell.”
He hefted Skena so she was sitting astride him, his hands gripping the firm globes of her derrière, torn between the driving physical desire clamoring within his blood to rule, and the need to make her understand all these wonderful emotions new to him. Emotions won. “Words mean a lot. I am not sure I will ever tire of hearing I...love...you―or saying it. I do love you, Skena. It scares me how much. ’Tis not an easy thing for a warrior to feel or admit. I have stood before the mouth of Hell unleashed, killed to keep from being killed, saw the vile brutality and ugliness that man can conjure. None of it terrified me with the same depth as the fear of losing you.”
She rubbed her thumb slowly over his lower lip, totally mesmerized by the small caress. “I understand, my love. The moments I stood and watched you fight Darach were the longest of my life. Every breath, I feared one slip and I wouldst lose you. So, I know the fear. I suppose in time, when we are old and grey, mayhap the fear will ease.”
“I would not wager anything of value on that.” He took her mouth in such tenderness, that Skena’s shaky hand reached up, her fingers brushing his cheek that proclaimed her awe at the profound bond they shared. Only, his blood could be held at bay so long. A naked, wet Skena pressed against his body saw his reason melting and his passion taking control. His groin nearly cramped from the blood flooding his flesh. Yanking Skena against him he relished in the feel of her body, her woman’s heat.
“I wanted so to tell you of my love, what you bring to me. Will you be angry with me if other parts of my body rule?” he said against her lips.
Her eyes flashing she slowly shook her head no. “I was wondering when we would get to the come hither part.” She shifted so her body was open to him. “Use those other ways to warm me, de Servian.”
“Noel,” he corrected, and he bore down on her derrière with his palms, impaling her with a single thrust.
Skena nearly purred. “Noel. My snowy knight with the name of Christmas.”