Yet she couldn’t force the smile from her
face the rest of the day.
And now the day was ending as it often did,
with them sitting against a thick oak a few feet away from the
lake’s edge while Nissa read. Today’s selection was love sonnets at
Benton’s request, the eloquent, sometimes naughty verses stoking
Nissa’s longing for the man whose head now lay in her lap.
One hand held the book while the other
stroked his thick, dark hair. As she finished reading the last
sonnet, she closed the book but couldn’t quite bring herself to
stop this allowable touch. “Benton?”
He looked up at her, and for one unguarded
moment his eyes shone from within with a fierce, hungry light. A
shiver – part warning, part longing – snaked over her skin and left
raw, exposed nerves in its wake. “Benton?”
With lightning movements, he turned and rose
to his feet, careful to keep both his gaze and his body away from
her. “Sorry.”
Her first instinct was to ask him what he was
sorry for, but she caught those words behind her teeth, forbidding
them to escape. Benton had been acting strange for the last two
months, alternating between uncomfortable intensity and an even
deeper anti-social streak than what she’d experienced from him even
in those first days of their acquaintance. Instincts warned her
that finding out
why
would change everything, and while part
of her yearned for some form of change, experience shouted change
hurt, and what she desired wasn’t guaranteed. She was no Pandora.
She’d hold off opening that box a little longer.
Nissa stood. “I should be getting back. I
told Joseph I would work at the tavern tonight.”
Benton frowned, finally looking at her again.
“It’s rowdy.”
“Sometimes,” she agreed, keeping her face and
tone light and agreeable. “I know you worry about me, but I owe
Joseph and Marie more than I could ever repay, and with Marie only
six weeks away from delivering the baby Joseph needs my help. Which
reminds me, he needs you to start stockpiling his woodshed for
winter. Will you start tomorrow?”
“Tell him this season is free if he stops
relying on you.”
Her hands came to her hips then, and
light
and
agreeable
were abandoned in favor of
determined
and
don’t even try that
. “I will do no
such thing. I am helping Joseph, and you are going to be paid for
the hard work you do. And you don’t even want to know the
consequences if you try to talk to Joseph behind my back.”
He held up his hands as if in agreement, but
his jaw hadn’t relaxed, which meant Nissa would have to have her
own talk with Joseph to not let Benton intimidate him.
Stubborn man – can’t talk sense into him,
and can’t kiss him senseless
.
“I’m going in with you.” Nissa’s eyes
narrowed the moment the words passed his lips, and Benton could
almost see her mind rewind to their earlier conversation.
They stood outside the tavern Nissa had been
working evenings at for the last few months. As soon as Marie had
announced her pregnancy, Nissa had banded with Marie’s husband
Joseph in waging a campaign where Marie would work no more than the
average toddler. Marie had been Nissa’s first friend when she
arrived at the village over three years ago, and there was nothing
Nissa would not do for the diminutive tavern keeper.
A year ago it would have been a non-issue,
but over these last months the village had become popular, both as
a destination on its own and as a traveling stopover. This brought
money into the town, and wherever money landed, trouble followed.
Bandits and pickpockets were becoming common, and a lone woman
working the only tavern in the area would be easy pickings.
Nissa clucked her tongue at him, a sure sign
of her annoyance. “You are only going in if you are ordering a
pint.”
“You know I don’t drink.”
Her lips tightened in a small grin that told
him she thought she had just won this argument. “That’s why you are
not going in.”
Further words on his part were left unspoken
when Nissa looked past him, smiled wider, and called out “Marco!”
She waved to the young man sweeping outside the tavern, and then
turned her gaze back to Benton. “There, no more worries. Marco is
here.”
And that fact did not make the situation
better. Marco was a young man angry at the world and at a
crossroads in his life. Nissa only saw him as the sweet orphan boy
she taught to read and count, and those blinders kept her from
seeing the avarice on his face when confronted by money or the
hatred when the village’s “sterling” citizens shunned Marco over
his lack of family or connections.
Young men in Marco’s situation were easily
swayed to the seedy side of life. Benton could see Marco becoming
an accomplice to a gang, perhaps clearing the way for them to get
money or valuables from the tavern.
No, the fact Marco was there did not ease
Benton’s mind in the least.
Nissa would be protected, her own
stubbornness be damned. He would talk to Joseph. No matter the
incentive or the threat he had to use, at the end of the
conversation Nissa would not be working at the tavern anymore.
She reached up and placed her hand on his
scarred cheek, the only human being who ever voluntarily touched
his scars. “I’m going to be with Madam Pierce tomorrow to finalize
this year’s curriculum, but I’ll visit the day after next. Does
that suit?”
He nodded, but he knew she was coming over
tomorrow. She’d be pounding at his door right after Joseph told her
she couldn’t work at the tavern anymore.
Benton was a sick, sick man, because the
image of an angry Nissa made his temperature soar in a way that had
nothing to do with the mild warmth of the day.
Without Nissa, he had no need to slow his
pace, so the trip back to his cabin was quick and uneventful. It
was growing close to twilight, the time where the sun still shone
and the air still held warmth, but both were fading fast. He
shrugged out of his clothes and waded into the lake to take
advantage of these last few moments. Winter was not long away, and
this would soon be impossible to do until next year.
The water soothed and relaxed him in a way
nothing other than Nissa could.
Nissa.
She would be an amazing sight,
naked and glistening in the lake water, her playful smile taking on
a seductive cast as she splashed water at him before she jumped
into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. There would be
no place on her body wetter than the damp heat she’d push against
him, grinding into him, making him hard for her…
Benton groaned before he pulled himself tight
and dove deep into the lake, where the water was only steps above
freezing.
Only when his lungs were fit to burst and
threatened to start breathing again – air availability be damned –
did he surge to the surface with strong, sure strokes.
“Yoo-hoo!”
Shock cut through him, making him pause as he
pushed his hair back from his face as his gaze took in the
surrounding area in quick sweeps. What in the nine hells was
that
?
“I’m up here, dear.”
His eyes went up to the trees. Sitting amid
the branches of Nissa’s oak was an old woman, cherub-cheeked and
gray hair, smiling beatifically at him. “So tell me, dear, did the
cold water help?”
Born to the pothole-ridden streets of
Pittsburgh, PA, Danielle Monsch started writing in a time long ago,
a time when there were not enough vampire stories to read and she
had to write her own to fill the void. Yes, such a time of darkness
did indeed exist.
Danielle writes stories full of fantastical
goodness and plenty of action, but always with lots of romance (and
a bit of woo-hoo!) mixed in. Vampires and Werewolves and Demons and
Angels, Sword & Sorcery, Fairy Tales, Updated Mythologies and
the like – if it's out of the ordinary, it's fair game for her
stories.
When not writing, Danielle reads comic books
and watches cartoons (though she says she reads manga and watches
anime, because saying it in another language makes all the
difference). She listens to music, plays D&D, follows XKCD,
watches movies with the Rifftrax on, and is mom to two amazing
little girls and wife to her favorite guy in the world.
Contact Danielle by emailing her at
[email protected]
,
see her tweets on twitter at
www.twitter.com/Danielle_Monsch
,
and like her on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/DanielleMonsch
.
Also, feel free to check out her various
websites:
www.DanielleMonsch.com
(with all info about current and upcoming books),
www.SeleneDaniels.com
(for books written by Danielle’s erotic-yet-still-nerdy alter-ego,
Selene Daniels) and her blog for fun and not profit
www.RomanticGeekGirl.com
(Geekiness & Romance! Two great tastes that taste great
together.)