The Lady and the Falconer (37 page)

Logan straddled Ryder’s body, grabbing his tunic roughly, pulling Ryder’s head up toward him. He curled his fingers into a fist. “Who sent you?” he demanded again. He raised his fist high, ready to strike. But then he lowered his hand.

He knew Ryder wasn’t going to tell him anything. Not ever again. The wide, glassy stare of his eyes was testament to that. Disgusted, Logan shoved Ryder’s head back to the floor and quickly turned his attention to Solace.

She sat up in bed, touching the raw, red finger marks on her neck.

Logan moved to the bed, sitting down beside her. He took Solace’s chin in his fingers and turned it to him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, leaning into Logan. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the protectiveness of his embrace. Her arms wrapped around him with a surprising strength, and she clung to him.

The door swung open and William and Uncle Hugh rushed in, their eyes widening with alarm as they spotted Ryder’s dead body.

Logan met their disturbed gazes over Solace’s head. Cavindale was no longer safe for the lady and the falconer.

***

Solace spent most of the next week resting in bed. Every few hours, William came to see if she needed anything. Beatrice fussed about her like a mother hen throughout the day. Even Uncle Hugh came by to grunt his approval of her progress. Logan was constantly with her, watching her with that unnerving and exciting dark gaze. But it was always from a distance. Logan stayed well away from her, usually gazing pensively out the window.

On the fourth day, he again took his customary stance at the window, his face as troubled as his spirit.

Solace sat up in her bed, anxiously devising ways to escape the cage her bed had become.

Logan turned to her and asked suddenly, “Why would those men want to kill you?”

Startled, Solace met his gaze. “I don’t know,” she replied.

He removed a gold-tipped, flower-handled dagger from his belt and displayed it to Solace.

“That’s Beth’s!” she said immediately. “Where did you find it?”

Logan replaced it in his belt. “Ryder had it.”

Solace frowned. “How? Where did he get it?”

She studied Logan’s serious expression and the implication of his words sank in. “You don’t think Beth...” Solace shook her head doubtfully. “She would know even less about hiring mercenaries than I do.”

“You’re probably right,” he admitted, but Solace saw the disagreement in his eyes.

He moved to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Solace nodded, but was lost in her own thoughts. Could Beth have wanted her dead? Would she actually hire a mercenary to kill her? Then Logan’s tale came back to her. Back at Castle Fulton, he had heard two people plotting to kill her. Had one of them been Beth? But why? Why would she want her dead?

Miserable, Solace looked toward the door, searching for the comfort Logan always instilled in her. At the sight of it closed, she realized suddenly that she was alone. Alone for the first time since she had been hurt! She flung the covers aside and stood. Swarms of black dots swam before her eyes. She steadied herself on the table beside the bed, waiting for the dizzy spell to fade. She hadn’t been out of bed for four days. She wanted to get up and run or ride a horse! She settled for carefully walking the length of the room. She enjoyed the movement, the stretching of her muscles.

A shaft of sunlight on the floor caught her attention. Hungrily, her eyes followed it to the shutters. Her face lit with joy as she practically ran to them and threw them open. The sun streamed into the room, and Solace turned her face to its warm light, letting it bathe her cheeks.

“Must I always stand guard over you?”

Solace whirled to find Logan in the open doorway.

“Back into bed,” he commanded.

She cast a glance at the bed and scowled, then looked at Logan. When his eyes locked with hers, a bolt rocked her body.

Swiftly he crossed the room to stand before her. He lifted his hands toward her, and Solace couldn’t help but gasp in expectation. Without a word, he reached around her to close the shutters.

Disappointment speared her body like an arrow. He was close to her, closer than he had been in days. So close that his arms brushed her shoulders. With that simple touch, her senses flared to life, a tingling awareness filling her body. When he shifted his eyes to her, his hot silver gaze melted her insides.

His look moved over her face, taking in every line, every curve. He barely touched her body with his, but the heat radiating from him scorched her.

“How do you feel?” he asked in a husky voice.

“What?” she inquired in a groggy haze.

“Your head,” he said, reaching out to smooth some hair over the bandage. “How is it?”

“Fine,” Solace answered, a twinge of sadness pulling at her heart. She dropped her gaze to the floor. He was only concerned with her wounds, when all she wanted him to do was kiss her. Just one kiss, she thought miserably. Just one. But even as she thought it, she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

His fingers smoothed a rebellious curl near her cheek, but as soon as he released it, it sprang to life, entwining itself around his finger.

His hand was so close to her face, his fingers mere inches from her skin. Desperate for the feel of his skin against hers, Solace rubbed her cheek against his fingers. His hand froze and Solace pressed a kiss into his open palm.

She closed her eyes tightly, reveling in the brief feeling of his skin against hers, his warmth touching her.

Suddenly, his arms were around her, pulling her tight against the length of his steel-hard body. His lips pressed on hers in a frenzy of reckless wanting. The heat from his mouth claimed her body, and she felt a stirring in the bottom of her stomach. She parted her lips as a groan escaped from them, and Logan’s tongue gently stroked the inner portion of her mouth, tasting her.

He pressed his lips against the wound on her forehead, trailing a line of kisses down her cheek to her jaw.

She wrapped her arms around his back, marveling at the strength hidden beneath the tunic he wore. Her fingers traced the hard muscles of his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

His hand moved up her body to cup her breast, gently squeezing it. His thumb circled her nipple, teasing it to hardness, until she groaned with need.

“Logan?” The voice came from just outside the door.

Instantly, Solace pulled away from Logan. He looked at her with a gentle grin on his lips.

Uncle Hugh entered the room, and Logan turned to him with none of the embarrassment Solace was feeling. “Ah!” Uncle Hugh said when he saw Solace out of bed. “You’re feeling better. Then come and eat! A good meal cures any ill!”

Logan glanced at Solace, and she could see there was promise in his eyes. But promise of what? she wondered.

“I’ll send Beatrice up to help Solace dress,” Uncle Hugh said, seizing Logan’s shoulder. “I’ll take this rascal with me.”

Logan cast a last look at Solace before Hugh pulled him out the door. Solace raised a hand to her lips. They were still wet from Logan’s kiss.

***

Solace stared at Logan’s hands as he moved them over the map of Castle Fulton. They were strong and sure and... What was she doing? He was explaining the secret passages to her, yet all she could think about was the power in those hands, the gentle way he had touched her, his heated caresses. They had eaten dinner with dozens of others, but Logan seemed to only have eyes for her. And she for him. She had felt like a young girl enamored of a famous knight. He had even given her a stare that sent a flush of heat to her cheeks, a stare so hot she had been certain her face was going to burst into flames from the torrid look. Just thinking of it now made her body all warm and tingly.

She turned her gaze up to his face. His brow was set with concentration; his gaze darted from spot to spot on the map, giving Solace only a teasing glimpse at their steel-gray magnificence. She barely noticed the black X on his cheek; it had become so much a part of him. She watched his mouth moving as he spoke and thought of another movement it had made, the way he had stroked her own lips with his. Gently, she ran a tongue over her lips, but could not re-create the feel of their heated kiss. Only his lips could do that.

When he swung his gaze up to hers she realized he had asked her a question. She looked away from him and found Alexander and Blade’s gazes were on her, too. They had joined her and Logan after dinner to discuss possible plans for retaking Fulton. Now that winter was upon them, they had time to make a detailed attack plan for the spring. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t hear the question.”

“You must be tired,” Blade said sympathetically.

She nodded and lifted her eyes to find an amused smile on Logan’s lips. She turned back to Blade. “Yes,” she agreed. “It has been an eventful day.”

Alexander folded up the map. “We’ll finish this tomorrow.”

“Good night, Solace,” Blade called as she turned toward the stairs.

She bid him a good night and made her way up the steps. She felt Logan’s eyes on her as she went, and finally had to turn and cast him a glance.

He stood near the table, a heated look on his face. She couldn’t resist gazing at him. His body was turned to her, his large chest bidding her to come and rest her head on it, his strong arms bidding her to come and be held, his hypnotizing lips bidding her to come and be devoured. “Good night, Solace,” Logan called softly. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She forced a smile to her lips, hiding her disappointment, then turned away and went to her room.

***

Solace paced in front of her window late into the night. She had washed her face and body twice. She had changed into her nightdress, laid in bed and counted sheep. She had drunk a warm glass of goat’s milk. Despite everything she had tried, with every move she made she sensed the ghostly presence of Logan’s mouth against hers, the caress of his hands on her skin, until her body shook with the wanting of him. She would get no sleep tonight. She wanted to feel his kiss again, wanted him to...

She opened the door to find the hall was quiet. Slipping into the darkness, she moved through the Great Hall like a ghost. What are you doing? a voice questioned her. Where do you think you are going? She ignored the questions and moved on. She knew exactly what she was doing and exactly where she was going.

Chapter Thirty-Five

S
olace opened the door to Cavindale Manor and an icy wind whirled past, seizing her in its grip, threatening to chill her to the bone. But her need warmed her against the cold. She raced across the yard and opened the barn door, stepping into the darkness of the building.

Her eyes searched frantically, desperately for Logan. Suddenly, as if her thoughts had magically conjured him from a mysterious realm, he appeared before her, sword in hand, standing tall and silent, ready for attack.

The moonlight washed over his strong chest, his muscular arms, painting his tanned flesh with a golden gloss. His dark hair fell just past his shoulders in a shimmering wave of black. His face was hidden in shadows, as was the lower part of his body. But his eyes were visible, a cloudy gray caught in a silver strand of moonlight.

She moved toward him and he dropped the sword, sweeping her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers with an urgent hunger. Solace wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. His strong back was hot where she touched his naked skin, burning against her fingertips. She trailed her hands along the length of his torso, up to his neck, cupping his face. She wanted to touch every place on his body, feel his every muscular curve.

He shoved aside her nightdress, baring her breast, and knelt before her to take the tip in his mouth. Solace gasped, threading her fingers through his hair, pressing his mouth against her. Surges of desire filled her like the ebb and thrust of the tide. She wanted more. So much more.

He looked up from his knees and gazed adoringly at her, as if worshipping a goddess. She framed his face with her hands before lowering her lips to his. Their mouths joined together, becoming one, tasting each other’s essence. She felt a hand on her ankle, and slowly it rose up her leg until he cupped her naked buttocks. She gasped, thrusting against him.

With his other hand, he touched her where she needed him, and she groaned against his lips. Then she sank to her knees before him.

“God, Solace,” he whispered, kissing her neck, cupping her breast with his palm, kneading it, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her.

She reached around his waist and was surprised to find he had no clothing on, but was still bold enough to cup his buttocks as he had hers. A groan tore loose from his lips as he thrust against her. She could feel the stiff length of him against her stomach.