Bride of Dunloch (Highland Loyalties) Read Free Page B

around her waist. She then drew her knees to her chin, wrapping her arms tightly around them as if they were a barrier—a barrier through which no man could cross to violate her.
    In the hallway beyond her closed chamber door, heavy footsteps resounded on the stone floor. Shortly after, a second pair of footsteps joined them.
    “Night then, Reg,” she heard a gruff voice call in a northern English accent. “We’ll be off in the morning. Enjoy your bride. She’s a bonnie one, isn’t she?”
    “I suppose so,” Lord Reginald’s voice responded. “Though her sister is by far the prettier of the pair. I daresay next to that lass, the girl is rather unappealing.”
    “Why did you not negotiate for the sister’s hand then?” inquired his companion.
    Lord Reginald snorted. “Not a chance. That one’s been plucked and plucked again. Besides, I’ve no time for a beautiful and silly wife. I require a serious and dutiful girl I can shape and mould as I see fit. Between the two sisters their looks were the only differing factor—the dowry was equally as large, and a marriage to either one brought the same familial alliance.”
    “Oh, I think she’s pretty enough,” responded the unidentified voice. “She’s a fine figure, to be sure. And let us be honest, Reg, that’s all that truly matters when you’re between her legs, is it not?”
    Lord Reginald guffawed appreciatively, and Jane listened to their footsteps as the two men parted company.
    Ah—now it was perfectly clear why the baron had pursued her hand and not Amelia’s. He had been after a practical wife, one with connections and a sizeable dowry. And one who was not spoiled ... in more than one sense of the word.
    Her sensibilities told her she should be affronted by this revelation. And yet ... and yet she could not bring herself to care one way or another. Even as Lord Reginald entered the bedchamber and saw her watching him—even as he regarded her without apology though it was obvious his exchange had been overheard—she couldn’t find it within herself to feel the slightest of offense. At least now she had her answer to the enigma of his pursuit of her.
    With this new understanding, she watched nervously, assessing his appearance, as Lord Reginald undressed himself and laid his finery on her dressing table. His hair was a deep grey with streaks of silver through it; much of what had been on top in his youth was gone, but what remained was neatly trimmed. He wore a closely cropped beard, and though his features were rather non-descript, they were far from ugly. From what outline she could see beneath his fine linen shirt, his body was not repulsive—neither too slim nor too fat. He had been strong once, she thought, and likely still was to a degree, but his belly did show signs of his advancing age; a small protrusion was visible beneath his shirt and his hips looked a little wider than would have been attractive.
    Her assessment of him was cut short when, dressed only in his shirt, he approached the side of the bed. Evidence of his arousal immediately snared her attention—his rigid member tented the loose fabric that hung to his knees. She recoiled at the thought of it, for she had never before seen a naked man—much less one afflicted by the heat of his desire for a woman.
    As if reading her virgin naivety like words on parchment, Lord Reginald suppressed a grin. With his eyes riveted on her, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, dropping it carelessly to the braided rug beneath his bare feet.
    Jane’s hands moved automatically, pulling the covers closer to her chin, and her eyes widened in horror at what she saw. His member was much larger, much thicker , than she’d ever imagined a man’s member could be. It jutted boldly, like a weapon, from beneath the curling mass of silver hair between his thighs. She stifled a cry of terror—surely such a protuberance would tear her apart.
    Her terror seemed only to excite him further. His eyes