Silence reigned as all looked upon Warrick’s dark eyes filled with such rage that many took quick steps back, though they were a distance away from him. His hands were fisted at his sides, his knuckles white, as if he was ready to deliver a deadly blow. His muscled chest heaved with a laborious breath and made one wonder if he had not already used his powerful fists on someone.

Adara saw none of that. She saw only her husband, the man whose arms she longed to be in.

She jumped up off the bench, the poultice falling off her injured hand, and ran to him.

Warrick caught her around the waist with his one arm, his eyes darkening even more when he caught sight of her bruised hand, she kept rested against her chest. He lowered his head as she stretched up on her toes to give his lips a quick kiss and her whispered words that followed shocked him, though he let no one see it.

“I have missed you so very much, husband.”

Her heartfelt words wrapped around him and squeezed his heart and his worry had him saying, “You are injured. And the bairn?”

She was pleased to hear concern in his voice and see that he was unable to keep it from his eyes. “The bairn is safe and I suffered no more than a bruise that will heal. Unlike others who suffered far worse.”

“My warriors did what they were trained to do and I in turn will see those responsible suffer for it.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Know that I have missed you too, wife, and as soon as I can I will show you just how much.”

Happiness hugged Adara while desire tickled at her. This had to be love she felt for her husband and the concern in his eyes at least let her know he cared for her.

Warrick ushered her over to the table where Espy and Craven sat, Craven standing at his approach.

Adara missed her husband’s arm as soon as he released her to sit. She had been too long without his touch, without the feel of his strong hand in hers, and the strength of him wrapped around her.

Wynn returned the poultice to her injured hand and as she listened to her husband speak to Craven, fear creeped up to jab at her.

“I need your help. I need the Beast,” Warrick said. “False words were given to me as a ruse to carry out this attack. How the fool ever thought to win against me, I do not know. But he will learn not only what his lies have cost him, but what happens when you attack my home.”

“Whatever you need, Warrick,” Craven said.

“We leave now. Slain is on his way to join us.”

“I will gather my men,” Craven said and turned to take his wife in his arms.

Warrick turned to Adara, leaning down over her.

“You will stay safe, husband,” she said, feeling as if her heart was being torn from her chest. She did not want him to go. He had been gone far too long from her and what if he did not return? Fear crept up to poke at her.

“Heaven does not want me and either does the devil.”

Adara rested her hand on his cheek. “I want you, husband, and that is all that matters.”

“You are all that matters,” he whispered and his kissed proved it.

She stared after him as he left the Great Hall, Craven walking alongside him and she prayed that both men returned safe and unharmed.

After Warrick and Craven had been gone three days, Espy took her leave.

“I would not leave if this birth was not a difficult one, but Edrea has lost two bairns in childbirth years ago and when no bairns followed for many years she thought herself cursed or barren. This bairn is a miracle to her and her husband. I must be there to make sure all goes well.”

“You are needed. You must go. I am good and all is well here,” Adara said, not at all upset with her friend’s necessary departure.

Espy took hold of Adara’s uninjured hand. “I see good changes in you. Your fear has subsided and I am happy for you.”

“In some ways I have changed, and though my fears still linger, I fight them. I never did that before. Never thought I had the strength to do it. You showed me that I did.”

Espy smiled. “I gave you a taste of your strength. You are the one who drank fully of it.”

The two women hugged and parted with promises of visiting soon and assurances that it would not be long before their husbands returned home.

Six of Warrick’s warriors escorted Espy home and Adara went to keep herself busy and keep fear at bay.

She made a point of visiting those wounded in the attack, seeing if they needed anything and sitting and talking with those who were confined to bed. It was no chore to her. She actually looked forward to it each day. It helped greatly talking with Warrick’s warriors. She was less fearful when she saw them in their black shrouds pulled down low over their faces.

Evening snuck up on her and she was glad for the day passing quickly. She took the evening meal alone in her room, not purposely avoiding those who supped in the Great Hall but unable to resist the urge for some time alone. She wondered if it was from years of spending more time alone than with others. She also wondered if Warrick were here would she feel the same.

She gave herself a quick wash, a difficult task with her injured hand, but she refused help from Wynn or any of the servants. She did not want them to see her scars. She knew they would talk, and talk spread, and her scars were personal, not for others to see and discuss.

She tried to hurry into her nightdress, the room holding a chill even with a strong fire burning in the hearth. Unfortunately, she got tangled in her nightdress, her injured hand paining her more today than usual and she got so frustrated, with her one good hand, she ripped the nightdress off from around her neck and one shoulder and tossed it to the ground.

The door swung open and Adara froze fearful of who would see her.

Warrick stood in the doorway, smudges of dirt and dried blood on his clothes, blood staining his knuckles and spots of grime on his handsome face. He had come straight from battle to her and the urgency on his face had her rushing forward in fear.

“Is everything all right? Is Craven—” She turned her head for a moment, fear and sorrow for Espy tightening her throat. When she turned to him again, she saw that her fright had seen it all wrong. He had rushed from the battlefield for one thing… her.

His chest heaved more rapidly than when he had first entered and his eyes sparked with passion. He wanted her with an urgency she had never seen before.

Adara reached out to touch him and he startled her when he backed away.

“Do not touch me,” he warned.

She shook her head, not understanding and took a step toward him.

“I am warning you, Adara, if you touch me now—” A growl rumbled deep in his chest.

“But you came to me,” she said confused.

“Too soon. Too soon from battle.” He turned to go, turned so he would no longer see her body, slim, petit, and with a swell to her stomach, their child nestled safely there, and the soft triangle of blonde hair between her legs where he desperately ached to be. But it was too soon after battle, he would not be gentle, did not want to be gentle. He wanted to throw her down on the bed and plunge into her over and over and over.

He forced himself to step out of the room and it took all his willpower to walk to the stairs.

“I missed you, husband,” he heard her say and he thought his rock-hard manhood would explode. He shut his eyes for a moment then forced himself to take step after step down the stairs. He would not treat her so wickedly. She was his wife. She deserved respect.

It had always been easy to assuage his need after battle. There were more than enough willing women in the camp who would spread their legs for him and his warriors. But his wedding night had changed everything. To his surprise, he found more pleasure with her than he ever had with any woman. Since that night he had thought of no other woman, wanted no other woman but his wife.

He stopped on the stairs, fisting his hands at his sides. Good Lord, but he ached for her. Had the whole ride here and when he swung the door open to their bedchamber and saw her standing there naked, he almost rushed at her so anxious was he to be inside her.

A glance at her injured hand and the swell of her belly reminded him he could not treat her like that. He could not. It would not be right.

I missed you, husband.

Her words rang in his head and in his heart. She missed him as much as he missed her. And had he not seen a want for him in her dark blue eyes, a want as strong as his?

I missed you, husband.

“No!” he commanded himself and went to resume his steps down to the Great Hall where he would drink until he passed out, making sure he did not disturb her tonight.

I missed you, husband.

Her words were like a sea siren’s call and he fought against them. But there was a demon inside him and when he made himself known there was no stopping him. The Demon never wavered, never tired in battle, and always took what he wanted. And he wanted…

He turned and vaulted up the stairs, a rumbling growl in his chest growing ever stronger. He burst into the room, went straight to his wife, fumbling with her nightdress, ripped it out of her hand, threw it aside, scooped her up, carried her to the bed to drop her bottom down on the edge, grabbed her legs and placed them over his shoulder, lifted his plaid and with one hard thrust entered her.

Adara’s gasp filled the room, but it was not one of alarm, it was one of relief and pleasure. She had been devastated when she had told him she missed him and he had left her, walked away as if it mattered not to him. She almost followed him, then realized she was naked and tried once again to slip on her nightdress to no avail. She was giving it another try, fighting back tears as she did when he had entered the room again.

She groaned aloud as he drove in and out of her, grateful he had not waited, her need too great. All she wanted was him inside her, filling her with endless pleasure, joining with him as one, and… the satisfying moan burst from her lips as her husband gave her everything she ached for.

Warrick exploded with a roar, his climax ripping through him with a satisfaction like never before. What made it even more perfect was that he watched his wife toss her head back and yell out his name for the second time in a short few minutes.

He did not pull out of her until both their pleasures had faded, then he dropped on the bed beside her. He reached out and took her hand and released it with a curse when she yelped. He sat up. “Forgive me, I forgot about your injury.”

Adara brought her bruised hand to rest on her chest. “It heals, though pains me at times.”

“I never even—” He shook his head angry with himself.

“And glad I am you did not,” she said softly and rested her good hand to his chest. “We ached for each other and I am grateful you let nothing interfere with that.”

“He brushed off the grime that had fallen from his plaid onto her rounded stomach, then rested his hand upon the mound. “The bairn does well?”

“He is a busy one in there, forever moving, kicking, as if impatient to get out.”

“While his da much prefers to be inside his mum.”

Adara laughed softly. “A place his da is always welcome and where she prefers him to be.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently. “We will do well together, wife.”

“So you will keep me?” she asked playfully.

She might tease, but Warrick watched her smile falter and a hint of worry fill her eyes. “I told you, you are stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I like it,” she confirmed quickly.

“Good, for you are mine forever. I will let no one take you from me.”

Adara pressed a finger to his lips. “I want no other. I want only your arms around me, your lips upon mine, your touch alone, and only you inside me.”

Warrick kissed her finger, teasing the top of it with a nibble. “As I said, you are stuck with me… only me.”

“A chore I favor,” she chuckled.

“A chore am I?”

She caught the smile that tried to escape the one corner of his mouth. Soon, very soon he would smile. He would not be able to stop it. “Aye, a chore that needs tending. You need a bath and food.”

“I could do with both,” Warrick agreed. “And you will join me in the tub.” He gave her no time to argue, he stood and disappeared out the door and Adara, fearing he would return with someone, rushed the blanket around her.

Warrick was not alone when he returned, Wynn followed on his heels along with two young lasses. They moved furniture around and when they finished two men carried a large round wooden tub into the room. Wynn instructed the two young lasses in how to drape the linen inside the tub and what seemed like an endless parade of servants began entering the room with buckets of steaming water.

Warrick began to disrobe, shedding his shirt and boots.

Wynn sat a small stool beside the tub and placed towels and soap on it and when the tub was filled to her satisfaction, she shooed the servants out and shut the door behind her.

Warrick hurried out of his plaid and went and scooped his wife up for the second time that night and lowered her gently into the water.

Adara couldn’t stop the ‘ahhhh’ that left her lips.

Warrick joined her, splashing the water over the side in his attempt to situate them both in the tub. It was good she was small or they would have never fit. She settled back against him where he had tucked her between his bent legs. She lay there enjoying the comfortably hot water, its heat soaking into the depths of her bones and warming her.

She knew from preparing baths for others that the heat would not last and she had no wont to feel chilled water after having enjoyed the delicious heat. With the soap on her right, she could not use her injured hand to fetch it.

“Please reach the soap for me, Warrick,” she said and he did, though he did not give it to her.

“Your hand. You cannot do this yourself.” He grabbed one of the buckets of water to the left of the tub and poured half of the water over her head, soaking her hair, then did the same to his. He lathered up her hair with soap and did the same to his hair.

Adara managed to turn around with her husband’s help and with a smile she reached out with her good hand and began to scrub his hair and he did the same for her, though he used two hands.

“So tell me, wife, did you think on things that Maia told you?” he asked, forcing his thoughts anywhere but on her breasts that bobbed just above the surface of the water, tempting him. And he was glad the night was still young.

“I did,” Adara said, trying to concentrate on her words but finding it extremely difficult. Never had someone ever washed her hair and it felt absolutely divine. His fingers dug firm against her scalp over and over and she did not want him to stop.

She fumbled with her words. Until finally she said, “The water will grow cold soon enough. We should wash and talk when we are done.”

Warrick almost chuckled and it surprised him how often his wife almost had him smiling. He intended to stop her when she went to wash him. It had to be difficult for her using only one hand, but then she ran her soapy hand over his shoulder, scrubbing at a patch of grime settled there, and gently rinsed it with a handful of water and caressed it to make sure the spot was clean.

He enjoyed her touch far too much to stop her.

It was pleasure and torment they both suffered as they washed each other, Warrick finally snatching up another bucket of water to dump on each of their heads to rinse the soap from their hair.

A rap sounded at the door shortly after Warrick lifted her out of the tub and draped a towel around her and one around his waist.

He bid the person to enter and Wynn walked in.

“I have food and drink, my lord,” Wynn said and Warrick gave a nod.

Soon the room smelled with the most delicious scents and Adara realized she was hungry.

Wynn hurried the servants through their task and out of the room.

Adara went straight for the food almost tripping in her haste to get to it, her husband righting her with the strength of his hand.

“I am suddenly famished,” she said, reaching for a piece of succulent meat.

“Just as you were on our wedding night,” Warrick reminded.

“I remember, but then I had been too fearful of what lay ahead for me that night to eat any of the food that had been offered.”

Warrick filled their tankards with wine. “No more fear of me, wife?”

“I cannot say I never fear you, for there are times I feel not fearing you would be foolish, but there are other times,” —she smiled— “fear is the furthest thing from my mind.”

Warrick turned his head toward the door with a scowl and Adara was not surprised when a knock was heard.

Roark entered after Warrick demanded to know who disturbed him.

“We caught the man who attempted to take your life.”