The Gorgon (29 page)

She tore her gaze from his mouth,
lifting a delicate eyebrow at his arrogant statement. "My, my, how
confident we are in God's Master Plan. T-Tell me, if you would, how we are to
explain our introduction to our children? Do we tell them that God and Fate
brought us together by magic?"

He stared at her a moment, his
smile vanishing with unnatural speed. Summer could see the faltering of
expression, the flash of pain, or mayhap panic, in his eyes and it puzzled her.
Both hands to his cheeks, she endeavored to force him to meet her eye.

"W-What's the matter? What
did I say?"

He shook his head, unwilling to
elaborate on the apprehension that filled his veins the moment she mentioned
their prospective children. God's Beard, their entire introduction and
courtship had been such a whirlwind of emotion and activity that he had never
truly been given the chance to linger on the potential of offspring. And given
a moment to reflect, he realized the very thought scared him witless.

"Nothing, love," he
replied. “Nothing at all.”

Struggling to distract both her
and himself, he kissed her firmly on the lips. But the effort wasn't hard
fought; the moment she responded to his seeking mouth, he forgot about
everything but his growing feelings for her.

Genisa's scarlet and gold gown
was coming off. Summer felt the stays as they loosened, the silken material as
it slid over her shoulders and down her torso. Bose's warm, calloused palms
were against her breasts, bare flesh to bare flesh, and she again groaned
softly with the wonder of it. When his lips left hers and moved tenderly to a
swollen nipple, Summer did not protest the action.

An afternoon of private touches
and awesome discovery had done well enough to prepare her for the event of his
mouth upon her breast. He had fondled her a great deal beneath Grandfather's
Oak, stroking her through the confining material of her gown and listening to
her soft grunts of pleasure. But he hadn't merely touched her breasts; his
seeking, curious hands had moved about her entire body, snaking up her skirt
and caressing the silken flesh of her thighs. The true jewel of his search,
however, had remained untouched during the course of their time together.

A looming discovery that caused
his hands to shake with anticipation as his scarred, course fingers danced
underneath her skirts. Suckling her breasts, his hands skimmed her shapely
legs, moving beyond her knees and lingering in the moist warmth between her
thighs. Pushing her legs apart gently, he continued to blaze a trail up her
silken thigh until the delicate brush of kinked hair tickled the tips of his
fingers.

Beneath him, Summer lurched with
surprise and Bose's head came up from her beautiful breasts, his eyes glazed
with desire. She met his gaze, her half-lidded expression fearful and curious
at the same time. He smiled faintly.

"Do not be afraid, love.
I'll be gentle."

She blinked as if pondering his
statement. "I-I... I-I am not. But you did n-not touch me... earlier,
b-beneath the tree, y-you did not...."

He shushed her softly, stroking
her cheek with infinite tenderness. "There is no need to be nervous, love.
Relax and take a deep breath. That's my good girl."

A faint flush mottled Summer's
cheeks as she did as she was told, calming the severe stammer that always
accompanied an attack of nerves. After a moment, her half-lidded gaze of desire
transformed into a more lucid, serious expression.

"There is so much I do not
know," she said softly, her fingers toying with his hair. "The ways
of men and women... I know the physical aspects of coupling, but that is where
my knowledge ends. You've been married before and...."

"And I fully intend to teach
you everything I have learned if you will allow me," he interrupted her
quietly. After a moment, he removed her fidgeting hand from his hair and kissed
the palm gently. "I will not continue if you do not want me to. I
apologize if you believe my actions bold, for certainly, my sole intention was
to demonstrate my feelings for you and nothing more. I never meant to frighten
you."

She watched him as he nibbled on
her hand. "I am not frightened," she said softly, a half-truth.
"B-But this is all happening so fast that I can scarcely comprehend all of
it."

He smiled, reading her
uncertainty and deciding not to force himself on her this night. If all went
according to plan, they would be wed shortly and he could spend the rest of his
life teaching her the finer arts of lovemaking. Until then, however, he was
perfectly content to wait. At least, he would make an attempt to maintain a
proper patience. But, God's Beard, the wait would be a difficult one.

Pulling her skirts down, he
shifted his massive frame so that he was looming over her, well removed from
the temptation of her forbidden zone. Summer met his gaze, seeing the beads of
sweat upon his brow and not unaware they were the results of a passionate fire
raging wildly out of control.

"Forgive me for spoiling
your passion," she said softly. "I certainly did not mean to."

He shook his head, kissing her
delicious lips. "You did not," he whispered against her mouth.
"'Tis proper that we should wait for the marriage bed, of course. If your
brothers demand bloodied sheets that I am unable to supply, I suspect you will
be a widow before your next birthday."

She giggled softly, returning his
gentle kisses. "You may continue to touch my breasts if that will help
control your lust."

He cocked an eyebrow, passing a
lingering glance at her beautifully full breasts pressed against his chest.
"I... I do not believe that to be a wise action, but I thank you for the
invitation."

"B-But why?" she was
genuinely puzzled by his rejection. "I thought you wanted to touch them.
This afternoon, your hands scarcely touched anything else."

He sighed, scratching his chin as
he pondered the proper words to explain himself. "Believe me when I tell
you that touching your breasts will not bank my passions, love. Touching them
will only stoke the fires."

Her brow furrowed. "I do not
understand."

He sighed again, clearing his
throat for good measure as he groped for the correct wording. "You see...
Summer, love, your breasts arouse me terribly. Here," he took her hand,
putting it to his groin. Through his breeches, Summer could feel his rock-hard
arousal and her eyes widened. Meeting her astonished gaze, he nodded faintly.
"Do you feel my want for you? A want that will only be sated when I join
my body to yours. If I continue touching your breasts, the want will build and
build until I explode. But if I refrain from touching you and we change the
subject, the want will naturally fade."

"And you will n-not
explode?"

He grinned. "A figure of
speech, love. But I most certainly will wish I could explode if my loins grow
any harder."

Her warm hand lingered on his
pulsing bulge a moment longer before removing it, seemingly lost in thought.
After a moment, she shook her head with wonder. "T-This is all so new to
me. I have seen dogs mate, of course... and once, I happed upon a soldier and a
serving wench in the alcove near the kitchens. There was a good deal of
grunting and squealing and..." she shook her head again. "When we
mate, you will spill your seed into my womb, will you not?"

He nodded, amazed that she was
thinking so clearly and clinically about a most personal subject. Even this
afternoon, when he had touched her breasts and explored her body in a limited
fashion, she had showed surprisingly little resistance or fear. Certainly, the
subject of physical interaction between a man and a woman was hardly a worthy
focus of conversation for an innocent young maiden, but she was obviously
unembarrassed by such discussion and he endeavored to answer her inquisitive
questions honestly.

"I will," he replied.
"That is how children are conceived."

"I know," she responded
softly. "Kermit told me."

"Who is Kermit?"

He swore he saw a flash of pain
in the darkly gold eyes. "He was my father's steward until his d-death
last year. He taught me everything about life and schooled me in various
subjects," suddenly, a mischievous sparkle appeared in her eye, quickly
replacing the tinge of sorrow. "I swore that I w-would name my first born
son after my dearest friend and tutor. I rather like the name Kermit de
Moray."

He cocked a disagreeable eyebrow.
"And I do not. Hardly an appropriate name for my…."

Abruptly, he found himself unable
to complete the sentence.
Hardly an appropriate name for my son.
Once
again, feelings of anxiety descended upon him as he allowed himself to imagine
Summer conceiving a child, enduring a horrific pregnancy implanted with a babe
far too large for her small frame to carry. An infant the size and power of his
illustrious father, bringing yet another de Moray wife to ruin and death.

Bose struggled to erase the
terrifying visions. Gazing into Summer's inquisitive golden eyes, he decided
that her life was worth far more than that of a potential heir. Above all else,
Summer would live a long and prosperous existence by his side and although they
would be without a son to carry on the de Moray name, he would still retain the
one individual without whose love he could not endure.  Above all else, he
could not lose his wife.

"You are lost to me,
darling," Summer's voice was soothing, sweet. "You have c-chosen
another name for our son?"

"Nay, love," he shook
his head, forcing aside disturbing visions of pregnancy and birth. "No...
no other name."

She smiled, willing to believe
that even if he had selected another name, he would bow to her wishes
nonetheless. "Of course, you and Lora had c-chosen a name for your child.
What was it?"

He suddenly pushed himself from
the bed, running his fingers through his black hair in an agitated gesture.
Smile fading, Summer sat up from the mattress and covered her breasts with her
unfastened bodice. Realizing she had upset him with her reference to his dead
wife, she hastened to ease his anger.

"I am sorry," she said
quietly. "I did not mean to make light of Lora's death. P-please forgive
me."

He immediately held out a
quieting, apologetic hand, turning to face her. The dim light cast from the
crackling hearth gave her an glowing, ethereal appearance and his heart leapt
wildly at the sight of her, more pain and anguish and bewilderment filling his
mind than he had ever conceived possible.

"You did nothing of the
kind, love," his voice was tight with emotion. Again, he ran his fingers
through his hair. "I... I suppose the excitement of our relationship has
finally caught up to me, too."

If she suspected his lie, she did
not express her reservation. Instead, a timid smile creased her lips and she
replaced her bodice, rising from the bed so that Bose could re-secure the
stays. Obediently, silently, he helped her dress and took her in his arms when
she was properly clad. Smelling her fragrance, feeling her warmth, helped clear
his head tremendously;

"I suppose I should leave
you to retire," he said hoarsely, his face buried in her hair. "You
have had a most trying day."

Head against his shoulder, Summer
inhaled deeply the fragrance of his distinct musk, finding it exceedingly
masculine and comforting.

"As you have also,"
removing her face from his flesh, her fingers gingerly traced the stitches in
his scalp. "Let there be no more w-wounds come the morrow's joust. I have
had my fill."

He smiled, his black eyes
twinkling. "Aye, my lady. I shall endeavor to do my best."

"See that you do," when
his great head dipped low, capturing her lips tenderly within his own, she
melted against his searing touch and a soft moan escaped her mouth. "Good
Lord, Bose, I can h-hardly stand the thought of not seeing you 'til morn. And
what will happen when the tourney is over? When will I see...?"

A heavy rap shook the chamber
door, vibrating the wall with the force of the blow. Summer gasped with
surprise while Bose, consummately undisturbed, made sure his dagger was within
easy reach before moving to the bolted panel.

"Who comes?" he
demanded.

There was a slight pause before a
strained, decidedly familiar voice wafted from the other side. "Open the
door, de Moray. Immediately."

Bose passed a glance to Summer,
not surprised to note her uncertainty and, he thought, chagrin. "It's
Stephan!" she hissed.

Prepared for a harsh
tongue-lashing, Bose unbolted the door and opened it. Not only was Stephan at
the door, but Ian and Lance were hovering in the corridor as well and Bose
stepped aside, ushering them into the chamber.

Stephan's expression was grim as
he eyed the massively dark knight. He paused a moment before speaking. "I
am sure you will understand my position when I say that I am uncomfortable with
this situation. Betrothed or not, my sister is not yet your wife and I will not
have her reputation sullied by the actions of an aggressive suitor,"
before Bose could reply, Stephan looked to his flush-faced sister. "Well?
What do you have to say for yourself? You know better than to allow a man into
your bedchamber, Summer."