The Herald's Heart (22 page)

He hauled in huge gasps of air. Surely he would die of pleasure. He could not allow it. Not until she was dying too. He placed his hand over hers. “Stop.”

She looked adorably hurt. “Do you not want me?”

“I want only one thing more.”

Her lower lip trembled. “What?”

“I want you to feel as I feel.”

“Wha ... what do you mean?”

“I want you to feel the same pleasure, the same passion. I want you to need me so much you feel you’ll die without my touch.”

“Oh.” She gave him that wide-eyed stare. “You mean I make you feel like that.”

He stroked his hand over her shoulders. Snaking one arm around her waist. “’Tis a poor explanation of what I feel for you. Let me show you.”

He brought his mouth close to her breast, then flicked his tongue across her nipple in a single quick stroke.

“Ah.” Her back arched, her breast thrusting in search of the unfinished caress. Before she could moan a protest, he fastened his lips around her other nipple and suckled with increasing force. The moan became a groan.

“Talon, please.”

“Please what?” He lifted his head and smiled at her, all the while running a hand over her thigh, to her hip, and back.

Her bottom squirmed, and she rose up, licking her mouth across his and raining kisses over his jaw to his ear. “I feel so ... so ...”

“So what?” He trembled beneath the assault her lips and tongue made on his earlobe.

“Needy. Empty. I ache. Please, help me.”

He slid his hand from her hip, across her belly to the soft curls that sheltered her womanhood. He stroked there, over and over again until she pressed against him. Then he slipped a finger inside her.

“Ah, love, that’s so good.”

His erection throbbed when her muscles clenched around his finger. Anticipation twisted through him in an agony of delicious torture. He swiped his thumb across the knot of her pleasure.

She arched her back and lifted her bottom.

He grasped her hips and raised her over his manhood. “Tell me you want me.”

“I ... want ... you.”

He let go her hips and thrust upward as she sank down upon him.

He heard a moan but did not know who uttered it. His flesh burned, and his soul heated with the need to be yet closer, to be one. He leaned up. Nuzzled her breasts. Suckled the turgid buds.

Larkin cried out, and her sheath rippled over his rigid flesh.

His hips bucked. He drew on her breasts again and again. With each tug of his lips, her hips shifted, and he thrust deeper. Unable to bear the agonizing pleasure any longer. He reached between them and stroked Larkin where they were joined.

Her body tightened on his, then spasmed. She threw her head back, screaming, “Talon!”

He clutched her to him. Burying his face in her breasts, he breathed her name as his white-hot seed flooded into her. The sea, the rocks at his back, the chill, damp air, everything faded but Larkin. Larkin, the only solid reality in his world.

The only reality he knew he could never hold again.

A lifetime, or moments later, Talon did not know which, he surfaced from the haze of satisfaction to find Larkin draped across his body with her head turned into his shoulder. The breeze whipped her hair over his face. He tenderly pushed it back behind her ear.

“Mmm.” She lifted her head, looking at him. Her eyes wore a sleepy half-lidded expression that spoke of total relaxation. Her mouth curved in a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He chuckled, feeling himself harden as his belly bounced against hers.

She raised her head farther, looking about. “’Tis nearly dusk.”

He sat up with her in his lap and followed her gaze. “Aye, we should return to the keep.”

“I do not wish to.”

“Nor, do I, but we must.”

“Then let us ... Oh no.” She put her fingers to her lips.

Talon kissed the fingers away. “Oh no, what?” he asked as he nibbled at her mouth.

“We’ve nothing but your breechclout to wear between us. How will we get to the keep?”

“Hmmm.” He sampled her silken skin all the way to her ear. “Mayhap we’ll have to stay here for the rest of our lives.” He nipped her earlobe, then suckled it.

“Oh,” she gasped. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“Why not?”

With a hand on his cheek, she turned his face to hers. “I would surely die of pleasure.”

He smiled, “I would be most happy to see to your pleasure.” Then he sobered. “But if I have that chance, I will permit only the smallest death.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. Now get you up.” He stood, putting her on her feet in the same motion.

“But our clothes.”

“You stay here. I’ll go in and bring back clothing for you. Then you can return with me and we’ll eat.”

“All right, but when we’re both clothed and fed, we must discuss the candle wax we found.”

“Aye, but afterward, you will share my bed.”

It wasn’t really a question, but she answered him anyway. “’Tis my wish to do so.”

He kissed her and left. How many days and nights would they share with each other before reality in the form of king or church interfered? How long would she ignore all her reasons for not laying with him? Would he be able to part with her when the time came?

He would have to, for he would not lose his chance to hold Hawksedge Keep.

Talon’s side of the bed was empty when she woke late the following morning. She shivered beneath the covers reliving those lonely moments huddled naked and cold behind the stones on the beach with dusk looming. All her fears returned in a rush. Someone had tried to kill them. Was it the same someone who’d murdered the earl? Was she the target because she searched for proof of her identity? Or was Talon the target because he was the earl’s only obvious heir? Talon’s presence chased those fears to the darkest corners. On the beach, she’d wished for his return, and once he’d come back, she’d not wanted to leave his side. ’Twas foolish, she knew, to rely so greatly on him, but she could not persuade herself to behave otherwise.

Now she was alone again. Had he decided their coupling was unwise? She knew it was, and in the giddy rush of yesterday’s survival, she had not cared. Sharing his bed had put both their souls at risk. As terrifying as the thought of eternity in hell might be, would a lifetime with Talon be worth it? If she let herself continue on her present course, she would lose sight of the justice she sought, and that would condemn her to a living hell. She might gain Rosewood Castle, but at what cost? No, she must tell him that she could not lie with him again. Then she would confess and seek absolution for her sins.

Eager to settle things with Talon, Larkin rose, dressed, and raced to the hall.

Talon was nowhere in sight. Father Timoras, however, entered the hall just as she was about to search the bailey. They met in the doorway.

“Good day.” The priest’s disapproval simmered beneath the polite words.

Larkin refused to allow his frowns to increase her suffering. Talon would not be happy with her decision, but it was the right one and she must make him see that. She turned her sunniest smile on the priest. “Good day to you as well, Father Timoras. Have you seen Sir Talon?”

“Nay, lady. Not since he sought out Cleve just before sunrise. Honestly, the way Sir Talon neglects his responsibilities is shameful. He was absent all day yesterday and now again today.”

Larkin winced. Talon had made up some story for his long absence yesterday. He’d told her he hoped whoever had barred the door would make a mistake and show surprise at seeing them. “Know you what he wanted of Cleve?”

The priest sighed. “I am too busy to keep track of all Sir Talon’s comings and goings, but I believe he mentioned the caves. Now I really must be about my work.”

The caves! Where they were nearly drowned. “Wait, Father.”

Timoras turned at her demand. “Yes,” he said and rolled his eyes.

“Did anyone go with Sir Talon? Sir Amis perhaps?”

“There was a third man talking with Sir Talon and Cleve, but I cannot say for certain that the man was Sir Amis. Sir Talon blocked my view.” He turned abruptly and walked away.

“Thank you, Father Timoras.”

But her thanks fell on deaf ears. She took no time to worry herself over the priest’s manner. She had to find Talon.

Half the day later, she resigned herself to failure. She’d located Cleve, who told her that he had orders to keep her inside Hawksedge Keep, even if he had to restrain her. Sir Talon wanted to ensure her safety while he plotted how to catch the person trying to kill her. The knight had a good plan and Sir Amis to help him. He didn’t need Lady Larkin distracting him, no matter how good her intentions. So would my lady please, for once, make Cleve’s job just a bit easier and wait calmly in the solar?

Larkin waited, but she was far from calm. When she finally heard the hidden door open across from the solar, her nerves were stretched taut.

She hurried to the hallway, but the men were already descending the main stairs. Amis and Talon marched straight and tall down to the great hall. But the shorter, heavier man between them slumped, dragging his feet. Larkin shivered. They’d caught him. Talon had returned successful from his search for a killer. She grabbed a wrap to ward off the sudden chill and hurried after the men.

By the time she reached the great hall, their voices were raised in argument.

“I swear to you, ’tis all I was doing in those caves,” whined a voice she remembered so well that it froze her to the marrow.

Talon had his back to her, blocking her view of the speaker. He snorted. “Why would you go to such trouble to conceal meetings with a tavern wench from Hawking Sedge? No one would think twice about the girl earning a few pennies on her back, nor would they care that ’twas Baron Le Hourde who paid her.”

Sir Amis stood stonily on the other side of the man. “Aye, sir, while I may not approve of Talon’s methods in this case, your tale is a weak one at best. Tell us the truth and ’twill go easier with you.”

Larkin was close enough now to see the man lift his head, although she still could not see his face. She heard quite clearly the pitiful tone the man used. She knew the voice, but the last time she heard it, the speaker had sneered and laughed with arrogant contempt. She shook her head. This was Baron Le Hourde, the man to whom the now-dead earl had given her home. She’d never met him; how could she know his voice? The answer was mind-numbingly clear.

“You must swear never to tell a soul.” The voice actually trembled.

“You are hardly in a position to bargain,” Talon reminded him.

Larkin stepped cautiously around the men. She wanted a look at this baron, the man who held the deed to Rosewood Castle. She also wanted to know why Talon’s supposed friend Amis was treating Le Hourde so kindly?

“I ... I can’t say her name. She is a nun, and ’twould shame her if our meetings became known.”

“Ha, you would have us believe that you have a noble holy woman as mistress,” Talon sneered. “The only woman of such rank in the area is the abbess, and I doubt much that she would betray her vows for any man.”

“I swear ’tis true.” The baron spoke more aggressively and made to rise. “The woman is capable of the foulest deeds.”

“Sit down, baron.” Amis shot his arm outward, pushing the baron back into the chair. “Even if this were true, it does not explain why you barred the door in the Hawksedge caves yesterday.”

“I did not bar any door. I was nowhere near the keep. Why won’t you believe me?” The voice rose in defiance.

Fear froze Larkin in place. She felt her throat constrict with silent screams. Deeds. Foul deeds! Those were the words of the man who killed her mother.

“You! I will kill you where you stand!” Larkin charged past Talon.

Baron Le Hourde shrugged off Amis’s grasp and surged to his feet. He grabbed Talon’s belt dagger. The blade flashed in the sunlight, just as another blade had flashed years ago.

“No!” Talon stepped in front of Larkin and held her back.

Amis secured the baron’s arms, twisting the dagger from his grasp.

“Larkin? Did you say Larkin? Not Liar Larkin, surely?” Le Hourde said. “Has she fooled you, Sir Talon? She must have magic between her legs to cloud the thinking of a king’s herald.”

“Let me by, Talon. He killed my family and deserves to die.”

Talon struggled with Larkin until she exhausted her anger against him. Then he scooped her into his arms and sat down in the chair.

She shifted against his hold. “Loose me, sir. I cannot breathe.”

“You frightened me. You could have been killed.” Talon quieted and his arms relaxed, but he retained her within his embrace. “Dear God, Larkin,” he laid his cheek against hers. “Don’t you know better than to run at a man like that?”

“I want to kill him. What better way than to take him by surprise?” She glared at where Le Hourde stood restrained by Amis. “He killed my family. Then he stole my home.”

“What are you talking about? I thought the earl killed your family.”

“The earl gave the order, but it was that man who raped my mother while she bled to death.”

“Le Hourde?”

“The baron?”

“She’s mad,” Le Hourde said.

“I don’t know,” Talon hesitated.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” his friend shouted.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Larkin pushed from his arms. “You never really did.”

“She has lied to you before, has she not?” Le Hourde’s question wormed its way among the dagger-sharp retorts.

Talon stood; his gaze locked with hers. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right about that.”

“I certainly don’t understand,” Amis echoed.

“I think I do,” Le Hourde sneered.

Larkin gasped. “I don’t have to put up with this.” She turned to go.

Talon grasped her wrist and anchored her to his side. “Just what are you insinuating, Le Hourde?” He clenched a fist and loomed over the smaller man.

The baron rolled his eyes in Larkin’s direction, then studied his fingernails. “Why nothing, Sir Talon. But she is a comely lass, is she not? For one that has no name, that is.” He blew on his nails, then rubbed them against the fur of his surcote.