Iliana stared blankly at the door as it closed behind him, his words repeating themselves in her head. A more welcoming bed. Did he intend to seek his pleasure elsewhere? Her eyes narrowed at the very thought, anger welling up within her at the idea of his sharing the passion and intimacy they had experienced with someone else. Teeth snapping together, Iliana pushed the linens aside and got to her feet, only to pause.

She had refused him. Did she wish him back in her bed as he was? Iliana shifted uncomfortably. She did not care for his stench. Could she put up with it to keep him from straying?

The years ahead rolled out in her mind, Duncan coming to her after a day of hard labor, his body slick with sweat, glistening in the firelight. He would shrug his plaid to the floor, then his shirt. Shadows from the fire would dance across his wide chest and strong legs as he moved toward her, took her in his arms, and…she would catch a whiff of him.

Groaning, Iliana crawled unhappily back into bed. While the idea of his seeking his pleasure in another bed was most distressing, the idea of being forced to welcome him into her own when he smelled of the stables was really no better.

“Yer a buxom wench, Kelly.” Duncan addressed the enormous breasts that floated before his eyes. They were bulging out of the top of the low-cut gown that bound them. Thinking they meant to attempt escape at any moment, he reached out to push them down, back into their strappings. But the movement unbalanced him somewhat, and he ended up grabbing one of the massive mammaries through the gown that covered it and holding on as he swayed where he sat.

I’m drunk, he realized with dismay, then decided it didn’t matter and raised the nearly empty pitcher in his other hand to his mouth and gulped the last of the liquid down.

“That’s enough, that is.” Grabbing the pitcher from him, Kelly set it on the small table next to the bed where Duncan sat. When he scowled at the loss, she laughed slightly and took his empty hand, placing it against her other breast. “Ye’ve been a naughty man, me laird, not comin’ to see me fer so long. Kelly’s missed ye.”

“Aye, well, I’ve been busy.” Duncan’s head lolled forward, landing between her generous breasts.

“Aye, with yer English wife.” The woman pouted, but when Duncan did not raise his head to see it, she frowned slightly and tugged his head back. Her lips tightened when she saw that his eyes were closed and he appeared on the verge of sleep. “Yer in yer cups, ye are.”

His eyes opened at that and he grinned, one hand dropping from her breast to slip around and pinch her behind. “Aye, but not so far in it I cannot doin’ me business.”