Desired (55 page)

In one corner, marble steps led down to the room below where a rectangular bathing pool ran its entire length. The room was open-ended so that the pool flowed outside into a small private garden. Beyond the pool, a turquoise tile fountain sprayed crystal drops of water ten feet into the air. The entire house was lighted by huge scented candles in round glass bowls. The effect was almost mystical and decidedly romantic.

Christian Hawksblood, however, looked anything but romantic. His clothes were soiled with the sweat and blood of his labors of the past eighteen hours, and he stank of horseflesh. He wanted a bath, but he was damned if he was going to bathe alone when Brianna was right here in this enchanting palace he had provided for her.

He pushed away his tiredness, then allowed all his annoyances to drain away. He cocked an eyebrow at Paddy. “Milady’s chamber?”

His squire told him where he could find his wife, muttering, “I’ll bid ye good night, I cannot stand the sight o’ blood.”

Hawksblood climbed the curving staircase and came to a halt outside his wife’s door. In a quiet but firm voice he said, “Brianna, I welcome you to your new home. I expect you to greet me as your lord. I need bathing, feeding, and bedding, in that order. Come to me, now.”

Secure inside the pink chamber with the key firmly
gripped in her palm, Brianna at last had an outlet for her fury. “You Arabian swine! I don’t know how you have the unmitigated gall to even speak my name. I shall never bathe you, I shall never feed you, and I shall certainly never bed you again! I suggest you bathe yourself, ask the servants to feed you, and allow your French harlot to bed you. You have no need for a wife whatsoever, and I shall cease to be your wife until that creature is removed from my home, permanently! Is that perfectly clear, Prince Bloody Drakkar?”

It was clear to Christian that Brianna wanted a knock-down-drag-out fight. She wanted him to smash the door down and manhandle her until her teeth rattled. Christian refused to accommodate her. He took his heavy dagger from its sheath, pried the hinges from the door, and quietly opened it.

Brianna stared in disbelief at what he had done with so little effort.

His eyes glittered in his dark face. His look was so intense, a finger of fear touched her. In a voice so quiet, it was almost a threat, he said, “Since the baroness has been removed from your home, permanently, I take it you are ready to resume your role as my wife … or do you have more demands, madam?”

He had taken away all her arguments. Her defiance fled. She could find no more words to fling at him.

“Do you, madam?” he repeated.

Brianna shook her head.

“Then come. Now.”

She looked helplessly at her boxes and trunks piled about her and knew she must obey him. He was in no mood to be trifled with.

As they emerged onto the well-lit balcony, she saw that he was covered with blood. “Are you hurt?” she asked with alarm.

“Nay. Don’t touch me. It will all wash off.”

She walked beside him through the house, past the bathing pool and out to the garden. In silence she watched him strip and step into the fountain. He took up a cake of soap and began to scrub himself. Immediately her feelings toward him began to thaw. He was not going to force her to
bathe him. Suddenly, that was exactly what she wanted to do. She was the only woman who had the right to bathe him, feed him, and bed him, and it dawned on her that she wanted to guard that right jealously. She removed her outer garment and standing in her filmy underdress, held out her hand. “Give me the soap.”

“I thank you for the wifely gesture, but you were right, I can bathe myself. However, since you are willing to get wet, will you come into the pool with me after I eat?”

Brianna blushed. “I … I cannot swim.”

He smiled at her. “Good, then we won’t swim … we’ll play.”

“I’ll go and see about food,” Brianna said vaguely.

“The kitchens are all the way to the back of the house. We have a superb chef, if I recall from the last time I was here. The beauty of this warm climate is the food tastes better cold than hot.”

When Brianna returned with a servant in tow, Christian had set up a table in the fragrant garden. He was sitting on a double-wide chair called a loveseat, wearing only a towel, which emphasized his swarthy skin. He had lit small candles inside huge white blossoms and set them on the table. The effect was exotically romantic.

The servant emptied his tray, covering the table with platters of cold meat, soft cheese, and crusty bread, along with such a variety of fruit and nuts, Brianna could name only half. He took a stone jug of wine from a cooling pool and deftly removed the cork seal.

Brianna waited until he withdrew before she slipped into the chair beside Hawksblood. To keep her eyes from his iron-hard body, she pretended a great interest in the food. Christian named each one for her. “Figs, dates, tangerines, almonds, filberts.” He dipped a crust into melted Brie and lifted it to her lips. She was pleasantly surprised at its delicious taste and helped herself liberally to the food.

“You are hungry,” he said, wondering why she hadn’t eaten.

She read his thoughts. “I was too angry to eat,” she explained.

He exulted at her words. If she was jealous of him, her emotions ran much deeper than she admitted. He longed
to hear her say she loved him, but she was such a stubborn wench, she wasn’t even ready to admit it to herself, let alone to him. He wondered if he would live long enough to hear her say the words.

Christian received deep pleasure from simply looking at her. As she nibbled the fruit and sipped the wine, she seemed unconscious of her beauty. Her hair fell about her in a golden nimbus, the candleglow making it shimmer. He could see the rose tips of her breasts through the fine material of her underdress, and as she ran her tongue over her top lip to taste the sweetness of the wine, his long-simmering desire exploded into molten hot passion. He wanted her in the bed. He saw their bodies entwine, then couple, as he slid deep inside her. His loins were hot and hard and ready.

His hands moved swiftly to remove her underdress, but the moment she was naked she fled to the shadowed end of the bathing pool. He took the exotic flowers from the table with the lighted candles inside their petals, then bent down and floated them on the water. The effect was mesmerizing. As they glided toward her, she suddenly wanted them to reveal her naked beauty to him.

Brianna stepped from the shadows to the pool’s edge, then she arched her body, first thrusting out her breasts, then her pelvis. She raised her arms beneath her long hair and let its golden tendrils cascade about her shoulders and down her back to her feet. Christian slipped into the pool and glided slowly toward her. The light of the floating candles filled her vision, but excitement built inside her because she knew he was coming for her, knew he was somewhere in the shadowed water.

When she looked down, Brianna realized there were steps leading into the water. Hesitantly, she took the first step down toward him. She could not see him, could not even hear him make the smallest splash. Boldly, she took the next step and felt the warm scented water swirl about her knees. Then his hands were on her ankles, slipping up her legs, his hot mouth trailing up the insides of her thighs, finally showering her pretty mons with teasing kisses.

It held him enthralled for long minutes, and Brianna, unable to resist his insistent mouth, again arched her pelvis.
His tongue licked her with long strokes until she was hot and wet. When she moaned her need and moved down toward him, he stayed her and came up out of the pool. With his lips against her ear he whispered, “I don’t want your hair wet. I want to play with it. I want to take you up to bed.”

She expected him to pick her up and carry her, but she did not anticipate the way he did it! He lifted her high and let her slide down his wet, sleek body. He slipped his hand between them to open the petals of her woman’s center, then guided the throbbing head of his rigid shaft up inside her. Brianna wrapped her arms about his neck, and he murmured hoarsely, “Wrap your legs about me too.”

As she raised her legs to wrap them about his waist, he slid deeper than he had ever been before. With his hands supporting her bottom cheeks, he walked slowly toward the stairs that led up to their bedchamber. Dear God, this man could arouse her against her will. The feel of him inside her was so potent, she could think of nothing but the pleasurable sensations like waves that built and receded, built and receded; ever higher, ever stronger. As he began to climb the stairs the sleek friction of engorged male muscle inside love-swollen female flesh became so exquisite that by the time he reached the top step she experienced a powerful orgasm that made her arch backward as she cried out her pleasure.

Her new position intensified the pure sensuality of their coupling and Christian felt the entire length of his shaft being squeezed by the pulsations of her tight, hot sheath. He stood absolutely still so they could both enjoy her climax, then when the last tremor and flicker of her swollen bud stilled, he carried her to the bed and set about arousing her all over again. Slowly, beautifully, as if they had forever.

Indeed, it seemed as if an eternity passed while she writhed and arched and gasped, then finally erupted with him. It was like a volcanic explosion, bathing each other in molten lava. His possessive arms enfolded her like bands of iron, and deep down, Brianna knew that such intensity was rare. Few lovers could possibly experience coitus as they did.

Moonlight spilled across the bed. “Christian, I was so jealous, I wanted to kill her,” Brianna whispered. “I … I’m beginning to understand the dark evil that drove you to kill Robert.”

He withdrew his arms from her, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed to sit up. She caught a glimpse of blazing eyes in a face turned to stone. He turned away from her. She saw his hard profile in the moonlight, then he was gone, swallowed by the shadows.

B
rianna lay staring up at the silk canopy that enveloped the bed. She knew she must learn to control her tongue. She must not utter Robert’s name again. And yet she knew they would never banish the dark shadow of his ghost that stood between them unless they talked it all out. She was covered with guilt and knew that Christian must be also. If he would confide in her, admit what he had done, even if he told her it was for love of her, Brianna felt she might be able to forgive him. At least she would be understanding and compassionate.

If they could talk it out so that nothing ugly and evil was hidden between them, they could make a new beginning. She heard a nightingale and its song was so poignantly beautiful, a heavy lump formed in her throat and the tears slipped down her cheeks.

The next morning Brianna was surprised by a visit from Prince Edward. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, Hawksblood isn’t here.”

Edward was amused. “Is that what you call him? Poor devil! He’s been drilling men-at-arms since dawn. I came to tell you that Joan’s ship is about to dock. Would you go down to meet her and bring her here so our reunion can be private?”

Brianna’s heart lifted with joy. “Oh, I have missed her so much! Adele, Joan’s ship has arrived,” she called gaily.

“We’ll go immediately. The servants will look after you, Sire. Please make yourself at home.”

“It will be my pleasure to do so. This is a beautiful house, like a palace from a fairy tale!” he said, bemused.

The moment the vessel was secured at dockside, Brianna rushed aboard. When she saw Joan, she gasped, “Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t be traveling. Your baby must be ready to be born!”

“Brianna, all I could think of was getting to Bordeaux. I wouldn’t let her be born until I got here.”

Brianna lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s at my house, awaiting you.”

A look of alarm crossed Joan’s pretty face. “I can’t let him see me like this, he will fall out of love with me! I have heard Bordeaux overflows with beautiful, cultured ladies.”

“We’ve only been here a few days. The Court hasn’t held any receptions yet. Besides, Glynis and Adele here will back me up. You are absolutely blooming with loveliness.”

Adele looked concerned. “I don’t think she should walk.”

Brianna said, “I’ll get a carriage. They are pulled by donkeys, Joan. You’ll just love a donkey ride.”

As Brianna climbed to the deck, Sir John Holland excused himself from the ship’s captain to hail her. It galled him that this beautiful, haughty bitch was privy to Joan and Edward’s relationship. Whenever he saw her, he always had the urge to strike her. She made him feel less than a man. Someday he would like to have her at his mercy, then he would show her that he was far more man than she could ever handle.

“You are now Lady de Beauchamp, I assume?”

Brianna paled. “Welcome to Bordeaux, my lord. I am taking Joan to my house until her … I mean, until your apartments are ready.”

“I shall come myself for her when all is in readiness. I have business with your husband, Robert.”

Color rushed back into her cheeks. “Sir John, I am sorry to inform you that Robert de Beauchamp was killed at the tournament.”