Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3) (9 page)

She lifted herself off him, to the brink of separation. On the way down, she squeezed her inner muscles around his shaft. At the base, she made a little circle, driving him mad. He could not begin to guess where a beginner learned such an advanced technique. He only knew she felt sublime. She repeated the motion again and again, pushing him to the edge of ecstasy each time she completed the cycle.

Up, down, around. Up, down, around. The feeling was exquisite.

He held back until he felt her nearing her own climax, then worked her clitoris until she broke. As he drove into her like a demon, she tensed, shuddered, and threw back her head. The rhapsodic sound she emitted was as thrilling to his ears as a battle cry. His body countered with a euphoric barrage of cannon blasts.

She fell down on top of him. Putting his arms around her, he ran his fingers through her silky tresses. “Your hair is the loveliest color. Like the woods in October.”

The reminder of October provoked a sharp pang. Samhain, the night the tithe was due to Lord Morfryn, was only a month away.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said.

He tightened his grip on her. “I like everything about you, Jenna.”

“I like everything about you, too.” A smile stole across her deliciously kissable mouth. “What I know so far, anyway, which isn’t much. I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Lochlann, the Scottish name for the Vikings who settled among them.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “Your parents were Vikings?”

When she spoke, her words vibrated against his chest. He felt comfortable with her. Too comfortable for both their goods.

“No, but my grandparents were. My mother and grandmother were
vitkis
—and my father and grandfather were berserkers. Both of my parents passed down their knowledge and secrets to me.”

She lifted her head and turned her eyes on him. “What’s a berserker?”

Unable to keep from touching her, he ran a hand over one of her white shoulders. “An elite class of warrior who can induce an altered state of consciousness in the heat of battle.”

“What kind of altered state?”

“In Gaelic, it’s called
mire-catha
. In English, battle madness.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you actually go…berserk?”

“It’s more complicated than that, but aye. The word
berserk
derived from the practice of berserking.”

She slid off him and set her head on his shoulder. “You don’t go berserk off the battlefield, do you?”

“No, lass. It’s a skill that takes practice and discipline, though it does sometimes come on spontaneously in the heat of combat.”

“Couldn’t you go berserk on Queen Morgan and break your bonds of enslavement?”

“No, Jenna. As long as I wear the knight’s torque, all of my powers are useless against her.”

She fingered the necklace. “Why can’t you just take it off?”

“Because it’s enchanted. Queen Morgan would know—and kill me in some horrible way—if I dared try.”

* * * *

When Jenna awoke sometime later, she was pleased to find Axel still there, snuggled against her. All masculine beauty and virile strength, he was a knight right out of a faerytale. His arms were around her, and the steadiness of his breathing told her he was asleep. Apart from the soreness between her legs, she was cozy and comfortable.

How she would love to stay like this forever. Rather than being repelled by her, like William always seemed to be, Axel had given her pleasure and made her feel good about herself. He had never once rejected her, not even in his sleep.

She wanted nothing more than to lie here in blissful grogginess, reveling in his warmth and closeness. Unfortunately, her full bladder rendered that wish impossible.

Doing her best to slip out of his arms and the bed without waking him, she tiptoed into the adjoining lavatory. After relieving herself, she grabbed a wad of tissue and wiped, wincing at the tenderness. They probably shouldn’t have had sex twice, but there was no going back now. She could only march onward and hope for the best.

Returning to the bedroom, she crept to the closet and opened the door as quietly as possible. There, on a padded satin hanger was the pretty white peignoir set she’d bought for her honeymoon. It was sexy without being trampy and by far the prettiest nightgown she’d ever owned.

Would Axel like it as much as she’d hoped William would? There was only one way to find out. She pulled the set off the hanger and hurriedly slipped on the full-length silk-and-lace negligee before putting the robe back in the closet.

Her knight was still asleep. She got back into bed and positioned herself so she was facing him. His left arm was stretched out under her pillow. As she rested her head on it, he muttered something incoherent. His moonlit hair formed a tousled frame around his handsome face.

She closed her eyes against the urge to wake him and harkened back to the moment he’d removed her knickers. How vulnerable she had felt being exposed to his gaze. But he had looked upon her with the heat of desire, not the coldness of judgment. When he kissed and touched her, she detected no hint of contempt or reluctance. And afterward, he’d said, “Do you know how beautiful you are, Jenna?”

Never once in five years had William complimented her appearance or said anything else to make her feel attractive. He’d only ever made her feel self-conscious, flawed, and insecure.

Forcibly evicting William from her thoughts, she warmly invited Axel back in. Standing before her, bare but for his torque, he had looked magnificent. Even that part of him that intimidated her had looked appealing. It was like the rest of him, hard and soft at the same time. And every magical inch of it had filled and thrilled her in ways she’d only dreamed about.

He stirred beside her. “Is it sunup yet?”

“No, not yet.”

But it would be all too soon. Outside the window, the sky had lightened to a soft charcoal gray. Axel’s imminent departure filled her with dread. Would she ever have a night like this again? Though she hoped so, she couldn’t be sure. She only knew she did not look forward to this one’s ending.

Eyes still closed, he ran a hand along her side, over her nightgown. “What are you wearing?”

“A nightgown I bought for my wedding night.” In a way, this night had been just as special—and better in many ways.

“Did you feel too unprotected without it?”

A blush warmed her face and neck. “If you must know, it makes me feel like a bride.”

Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her body against his. “If it were in my power, I would make you my bride.”

Jenna kissed his lips. He was groggy and didn’t know what he was saying, but his declaration nevertheless breathed new fire into the ashes of hope in her heart.

Chapter 7

Axel was sitting in the chair he had made, carving a ring for Jenna from a stick of ash he had picked up on his way back to the cave earlier that morning. Everything was just as he had left it, suggesting his dereliction of duty had gone undetected. Could he risk another night away from his post? Probably not, but the thrilling thought of her was too compelling to resist.

She had brought him back from the dead, had given his life meaning and purpose. She was his Valkyrie, his savior. He would give her a ring inscribed with runes of protection and partnership, and would fashion another larger talisman to hang over her bed on a string made of flax, the sacred plant of Freya, Odin’s goddess wife. Around the cottage’s foundation, he would place staves made from the nine sacred woods into which he had carved chains of glyphs to keep out all not invited to enter.

Aye, crafting these objects would take effort and time—almost all the time that remained until the new moon—but he could think of no better way to pass his daylight hours. When he returned from his quest, he would marry Jenna in a handfasting ceremony only the two of them knew about.

By day, he would carry on as the queen’s portal guardian, and by night, he would go to his secret wife. Except for the nights he was required to spend in Morgan’s bed, of course. He just hoped Jenna would not be too hurt over the adulteries he was powerless to refuse.

They could only be together if Queen Morgan believed all was as before. If she caught wind of the truth, she would make him do to Jenna what she had made Sir Leith do to Belphoebe, the faery scout with whom his friend had broken his vows. Though the queen had granted Axel license to bed other women, she had also made it clear he still belonged to her—body and soul. Only his heart and mind were still his to control. Well, his mind was, leastwise. His heart, it would seem, had a will all its own.

* * * *

When Jenna awakened next, it was morning and Axel was no longer in her bed—or anywhere else in the cottage, she discovered after a quick look around. Not that she’d expected to find him making breakfast, assuming he even ate human food.

She took a moment to muse over what sort of food a faery knight might consume. Did he hunt rabbits in the glen? Did he gather nuts and berries? Maybe she could bake him something or make him dinner sometime. She’d have to remember to ask him what he liked when he returned to her that evening.

The thought provoked a stab of worry. What if he didn’t come back like he’d promised? No, she would not entertain such negative contemplations. Last night had been wonderful. They had parted on good terms. She had no reason to doubt his assurances. Not yet, anyway. Besides, she didn’t have time to tie herself up in knots. There were things to do, places to go, and people to see—starting with Mr. MacGregor.

While she was out in the glen with Axel, someone from the garage had left a message on the answering machine. Her car was ready to be picked up. The problem turned out to be minor, thank God—only a clogged fuel line—and the repair would cost less than she’d feared.

This was excellent news, not only because she was broke and needed her car back, but also because she wanted to ask Mr. MacGregor more about the story he’d mentioned. For obvious reasons, she was eager to hear how things turned out for Tam Lin and Janet. Something—call it a hunch—told her the end of the story might prove illuminating.

As she put on the kettle and waited for the whistle, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the night she’d first seen Axel, naked in the moonlit pool of the falls. How magnificent and god-like he’d looked. Almost as good as he’d looked standing over her last night.

Now, she knew that beautiful body of his intimately—and was coming to know and admire the person he was inside as well. Yes, he was a faery knight, but he was also a person. He was strong and magical, but not invincible. Just like her, he’d been passively living the life someone else had dictated. Hiding his true self, his true power, to please another. Enduring his existence rather than living his life to the fullest. They might be from different worlds and eras, but she connected with Axel better than she ever had with William.

Unfortunately, her perfect knight was still enslaved. She was free to live her life, but he was still under the control of an evil queen. And, if he failed in his quest, he would be sacrificed to the Dark Lord of the Thitherworld. As unbelievable as it seemed, the threat was as real as the loss of her virginity, the proof of which still throbbed between her legs.

When the kettle sounded, she made herself a cup of tea and took it with her back to the bedroom. It seemed lonelier without Axel there. She went into the bathroom, set her teacup on the counter, and turned on the shower. As she stood under the hot spray, scenes from the night before replayed in her mind, filling her with a dizzying mixture of satisfaction and longing.

Do you know how beautiful you are, Jenna?

Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and dried her skin and hair. As she combed out the tangles and applied her make-up, she drank her tea. That done, she returned to the bedroom and put on a long-sleeved T-shirt, ankle-length floral skirt, and a cute but comfortable pair of boots. Now ready, she set her cup in the kitchen sink, grabbed her purse, and headed out.

She drove purposefully toward the garage, passing along the way a quaint-looking stone pub, an old-fashioned druggist, and the market where she’d bought her provisions the day before.

Had it been just a day? It seemed like so much longer.

When she reached the garage, she saw her Mini parked off to the side, but no sign of Mr. MacGregor or the tow truck. She parked the Volvo and stepped into the office to settle her bill. Motor oil, gasoline, cigarettes, and exhaust assaulted her nostrils as she entered. Disappointment bit into her heart. There was only one person inside: a young man with shaggy dark hair and heavily tattooed arms.

He did not look up as she approached the counter. She cleared her throat, calling him from his paperwork. As he met her stare, she gave him her most genial smile.

“Where is Mr. MacGregor this morning?”

“Out on a call,” the lad grumbled.

“What a shame. I was hoping to speak with him.”

“What about? Maybe I can help.”

“I wanted to ask him if there’s a library nearby.” She omitted the part about Tam Lin. “I’m thinking of settling here…and thought I might look for a job.”