His Lady Bride (Brothers in Arms) by Shayla Black, Shelley Bradley

desire raging.
    He had to taste her skin. The craving surged within him, possessed him. Aric lifted his mouth from hers and laved her neck with kisses in a blind haze of need. Gwenyth gasped when his teeth found her earlobe and drew it into his mouth for a teasing pull.
    As his appetite for her inciting mouth returned, Aric reached for her again. He found naught but air.
    Slowly, he opened his eyes. His wife stood across the room, her chest heaving, her eyes fearful and accusing at once.
    “I did not tell you to touch me,” she whispered.
    Her stricken expression told Aric his kiss, given in anger, had been a tactical mistake, for it had done little except raise her guard again. Gritting his teeth, he called, “Gwenyth—”
    “Nay! Say nothing. Why keep me here? Make rain and let me be.”
    “We have discussed this. You have nowhere to go. We have spoken vows. I am sorry that displeases you, but it changes naught, Gwenyth. I can change naught. Sir Penley will wed Lady Lyssa and make her a miserable husband. Lady Nellwyn will continue to flaunt her good fortune at every opportunity. But know this: Lyssa will soon seek lovers, and Nellwyn will someday learn of her husband’s bad nature.
    “Do you not see your life could be worse? I have not beaten you, demanded hard labor, or pressed my rights as a husband to share your bed. I have done my best to see to your comfort. Hell, I have even cooked for you! If you can find nothing good in any of that, you are a foolish woman indeed.”
     

CHAPTER SIX
    Gwenyth sat upon the hill behind Aric’s cottage, watching the sun set and the stars rise. The moon appeared, glowing with the brilliance of a hundred candles. Cool wind struck her face, bringing with it the scents of grass and wildflowers, of fresh leaves and the nearby forest.
    She cared for none of nature’s beauty now.
    For hours, Gwenyth had been sitting, thinking of all Aric had said earlier. She came to the ugly, unfortunate conclusion he was right. She had nowhere to go now that Sir Penley had asked Lyssa to wife. Gwenyth also could not deny she and Aric had spoken vows. As for Lyssa’s soon seeking lovers and Nellwyn’s discovering some terrible nature of Sir Rankin’s, Gwenyth could only hope Aric was wrong. Though she envied her cousins, she did want them happy and well settled with the best of men, despite what she might have said in anger.
    The rest of Aric’s angry speech could not be denied, either. He could indeed have been much harder on her, raping her to obtain his husbandly rights, beating her for her lamentable lack of cooking skills. Certainly she had fared well during her teary times. Bardrick had always laughed scornfully at a woman’s tears. Aric, at least, had understood—aye, even been gentle.
    In truth, everything about the man this far had pleased her—except his lack of concern about security and future. And though she did not seek money for itself, she wanted to reclaim her position as a lady. She wanted the kind of life her cousins led, the life that would have been hers had her parents not perished. And she wanted family, secure in both love and home. Raising babes in a dirt cottage, with seemingly few funds and a father giving no thought to the future, was unthinkable.
    Of a sudden, Gwenyth heard footsteps behind her, firm and heavy and unhurried. Aric. She was not surprised when he sat beside her, his knees bent and spread wide, and began plucking at the green grass between his feet.
    “You have been gone a long time, Gwenyth. Night has fallen, and you have not supped.”
    Was he concerned about her, or merely seeing after what he regarded as his? “I do not hunger.”
    He nodded, then gazed up at the moon. “Nellwyn upset you.”
    Pausing, Gwenyth considered his words. “Nay, just her news. Until this morn, I believed for years Uncle Bardrick would see me well wed to a good, kind knight or baron and restored to my rank as a lady, despite the fact he treated me as a servant more