gown, and her nipples pebbled against the rough material, reminding her of yesterday. The way he had taken her from behind, how he had filled her so completely. He had come inside her too, not withdrawing as he had before. No doubt his intention was to get her pregnant so he could return her to Annabelle’s father. She’d been on birth control pills for years, but it had been nearly a week now since she’d taken the last one…which meant she could very well be pregnant.
Elliott had never wanted kids, and she had never pushed the point, hoping that one day he would change his mind. Thank goodness they didn’t have children. It would have made his betrayal even harder.
But now she had Brochan.
His long hair had been pulled back, drawing emphasis tohis finely sculptured features, the sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, and full lips.
Her stomach did a little flip.
Fill and inflame me again, Brochan .
His gaze shifted abruptly to the brunette. “What is amiss?”
Eva stood, putting a hand on Brochan’s arm. Her fingers curled around a large bicep. “She spilled the ale intentionally. Look at my skirts.”
Sure enough, the ale had left a large, wet spot on the front of Eva’s skirt. Terri bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
“Ye are not to touch this woman again, do ye hear me?” Brochan said to Eva, his eyes as hard as ice.
When she didn’t answer immediately he put his hands on his narrow hips.
The woman’s cheeks turned red, and Terri was surprised she didn’t stomp her foot as she had done the night before in Brochan’s chamber.
To Terri’s dismay, the entire hall had gone quiet.
She had always disliked being the center of attention, and now she stood in a room full of people who hated her, watching and waiting for Brochan to deliver punishment. He was not in an enviable position, as his people would expect her to be reprimanded.
She was their hated enemy, and though initially she had thought being in this time would be fun, she realized it would never be the thrill she had thought it would be.
Not when everyone here wanted her dead.
Especially the brunette who stood seething, her eyes full of hatred.
“Perhaps I should return to the kitchen,” Terri said, dropping her gaze to the floor. No doubt everyone knew she had slept with Brochan.
“Mayhap you are right,” Brochan said, pulling away from Eva. “I shall walk you to your quarters.”
She walked ahead of him, feeling his gaze on her the entire way. Snickers followed them all the way out the hall, and to her surprise tears burned the backs of her eyes.
What was wrong with her? She had thought this time-travel would be so much fun, but the enormity of possibly never seeing her home again came crashing down on her.
The minute she stepped out into the bailey, she cried.
Brochan’s hand encircled her wrist and he pulled her toward him. “Come,” he said, walking toward the armory. Inside, armor and swords lined the walls.
Shutting the door behind them, Brochan turned. “Why do ye cry, Annabelle?”
How she yearned to hear him call her by her name, and not Annabelle. “I don’t know.”
He lifted her chin. “Are ye hurt?” He turned her face to look at her cheek. Gentle fingers probed her tender skin.
“No, it doesn’t hurt.”
“She will never touch ye again. I swear it.”
Brochan’s insides twisted as he looked down into Annabelle’s upturned face. Her cheek still bore the outline of Eva’s fingers where she had slapped her.
In truth, he had not known Annabelle had been in the hall until the sound had alerted him to her presence.
He knew that Annabelle had been roused early to help in the kitchen, but he had not expected her to appear in the hall.
Especially wearing that thin gown, wet with perspiration. Her hair had been pulled up high on the back of her head, the blond tresses hanging about her shoulders, some of the strands wet from sweat.
The kitchens were hot.
Mayhap too hot.
“I don’t