"Gabriel?"

His hand moved up higher on her thigh. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about important decisions I'd made."

"You may tell me later, Johanna."

She nodded. "Are there wolves here?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he replied.

"You don't seem concerned."

"The horses will give us sufficient warning. Your skin feels like silk."

She leaned back just a little so she could kiss his chin. His hand moved to the junction of her thighs. She instinctively parted them. He cupped her softness and began to stroke her while his kiss turned wet and hot.

Disrobing was awkward and frustrating as well because it took so long, and the ties holding her skirts together knotted when she tugged on them. Gabriel took over the task. He was just as inept, but stronger. He tore the satin slip apart.

Gabriel suddenly became impatient. He couldn't wait any longer. He forced her to straddle his hips, lifted her up, and then made himself stop.

"Take me inside," he commanded, his voice a hoarse whisper. He wanted to shout now but said instead, "When you're ready, wife."

She gripped her husband's shoulders with her hands and slowly lowered herself on top of him. They stared into each other's eyes until Gabriel was fully imbedded inside her.

The pleasure was almost unbearable. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a little whimper. When she moved forward to kiss him, she felt a hot rush of ecstasy. She deliberately moved again.

God, her slow, teasing motions drove him wild. He grabbed hold of her hips and showed her what he wanted her to do. Their lovemaking became frantic. Both lost control. Gabriel found fulfillment before she did but helped her gain her own when he slipped his hand down between their joined bodies and stroked her. She tightened all around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She whispered his name with a sob as her orgasm consumed her.

Gabriel held her close for several minutes, then nudged her chin up and kissed her hard. His tongue mated with hers in a lazy fashion. And then he pulled away.

He didn't give her much time to recover. He kissed her once again and told her to get dressed. The day, he declared, was wasting away.

She tried not to be hurt by his attitude. She wanted to linger but knew his duties still waited for him.

They washed in the stream, dressed, and walked side by side to their mounts.

"You will not go out alone again, Johanna. I forbid it."

She didn't agree or disagree with that instruction. He gave her a hard look before lifting her onto her horse. Johanna adjusted the strap of her carrier on her shoulders, slipped the bow over her arm, and then took the reins from his hands.

"When we return to the holding, you will rest."

"Why?"

"Because I have told you to," he countered.

She wasn't in the mood to argue with him. She wasn't about to let him leave in such a brittle mood either. "Gabriel?"

"Yes?"

"Did you enjoy our time together?"

"Why do you ask me such a question? It should be obvious to you I enjoyed touching you."

After giving her that backhanded bit of praise, he walked over to his mount and gained the saddle.

"It isn't obvious," she blurted out.

"It should be," he countered.

She wanted compliments, he supposed. His mind immediately went blank. He wasn't any good at small talk or wooing. Still, the forlorn look on her face told him she was in need of more praise. He didn't want their interlude to end with her looking dejected.

"You made me forget my duties."

There, that statement of fact would surely convince her how tempting she was to him.

It sounded like an accusation to her. "I apologize, Gabriel. It won't happen again."

"I was giving you a compliment, you daft woman."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You were?"

Apparently she didn't believe him. "Of course it was a compliment. A laird doesn't often forget his duties. Such ill discipline would cause havoc, and so, you see, I was indeed giving you a compliment."

"Most compliments aren't given in a roar, m'lord. That may have been the reason I didn't understand."

He grunted. She didn't know what that rude sound was supposed to mean. The discussion was over, however. Gabriel slapped her horse's left flank to get her moving.

He didn't speak to her again until they reached the stables. Then he reminded her he wanted her to rest. "Why must I rest? I'm not decrepit, m'lord."

"I don't wish you to become ill." The set of his jaw told her it was pointless to argue with him. She was too irritated to let the topic go, however. "You're being unreasonable. I don't wish to stay in bed all day. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night."

Gabriel lifted her to the ground, then took hold of her hand and dragged her back toward the keep. "I would allow you to sit by the fire in the hall. You may even sew if you're so inclined."

The picture he painted in his mind appealed to him. He smiled just thinking about Johanna doing such feminine things.

She was glaring up at him. He was so surprised by her reaction to his suggestion, he laughed.

"You have very specific ideas about how I should spend my days, m'lord. I wonder where you came up with them. Did your mother often sit by the fire and sew?"

"No."

"Then how did she fill her days?"

"With backbreaking work. She died when I was very young."

The look on his face and his tone of voice told her he didn't want her to pursue the topic. He was obviously sensitive about his childhood. The simple comment had told her quite a bit about how his mind worked, however. Backbreaking work had killed his mother… and wasn't that the reason Gabriel wanted her to rest her days away?

She knew she shouldn't question him further, but curiosity overrode caution. "Did you love your mother?"

He didn't answer her. She tried a different question. "Who raised you after she died?"

"No one and everyone."

"I don't understand."

He'd increased his stride as though trying to run away from her inquisition. He stopped suddenly and turned to her.

"You don't need to understand. Go inside, Johanna."

Her husband could be very rude when he wanted to be. He dismissed her from his thoughts without a single glance back to see if she was going to obey his orders.

Johanna stood on the steps for several minutes thinking about her husband. She wanted to understand him. She was his wife now, and it was therefore important that she know what made him happy and what pricked his temper. Once she'd established those facts, she would know how to respond.

"What has you frowning so, m'lady?"

Johanna jumped a foot, then turned to smile at Keith. "You startled me," she admitted, stating the obvious.

"I didn't mean to," the Maclaurin warrior replied. "I noticed you looked upset, and I wondered if I could do something to improve your mood."

"I was just thinking about your laird," she answered. "He's a complicated man."

"Aye, he is," Keith agreed.

"I would like to understand how his mind works."

"Why?"

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Direct questions don't work," she remarked. "Still, there's more than one way into a castle."

Keith misunderstood. "Aye, there are two entrances, three if you count the pathway through the cellar."

"I wasn't referring to this holding," she explained. "I meant that there is always more than one way to get what you want. Do you see?"

"But there are still just two entrances to the keep, m'lady," Keith stubbornly insisted.

She let out a sigh. "Never mind, Keith."

The soldier turned the topic. "Will you go walking with Auggie this afternoon?"

"Perhaps," she replied. She hurried up the steps to go inside. Keith rushed ahead of her to pull the doors open.