The Legend (19 page)

The defenses that she tried so
desperate to instill in herself were crumbling like rotted wood; she wasn't
nearly as strong as she hoped. But in one last attempt to prove her strength,
she forced herself to divert the subject. Any more talk of marriage would have
them doing things that were morally allowed only within the bounds of
matrimony. She could see it in his eyes and she would be powerless to stop him.

"Will.... will Ali and Ivy
live with us at St. Cloven?" she managed to choke out.

"Of course," Alec
replied softly. "Ali has some fine ideas as to additions and improvements.
I think we will build him and Ivy their own wing for their family," he
gaze lingered, studying her face. "You seem to have accepted his betrothal
to your sister easily enough."

She shrugged, attempting to
distract herself from the heat his gaze provoked. "'Twas never my decision
to accept or reject. I am simply resigned to deal with the situation, as my
sister is."

He was silent a moment.
"'Twas a wise choice on her part. Does this upset you that she seems to
have approved Ali?"

"Nay," she said
quickly; too quickly. She could sense his questioning gaze and her head
throbbed harder. She did not want to talk anymore on a subject that was causing
her a great deal of frustration. "My head is aching terribly. I would
retire now."

He did not answer and she raised
her eyes to look at him. Suddenly, he was much closer than she remembered and
moving closer. She opened her mouth to protest, but his big body was abruptly
upon her and she heard the stool topple.

Her protests died in her throat;
his arms were wrapping about her torso and her own arms were winding about his
neck as the same giddy feelings she had experienced with their first encounter
returned tenfold. The kiss was hot, sultry and erotic; their tongues danced the
sensual rhythm of discovering passion and Peyton heard Alec's low moan of
desire. It sent a bolt of excitement through her and she tightened her grip on
his neck, soft whimpers coming from her own throat.

He left her mouth quickly and
trailed to her neck, moving much faster than he had earlier in the day. It was
as if he intended to resume where they had left off, when he was about to tread
virgin territory and touch her where no man, not even James, had ventured.
Peyton knew she should stop him, but she couldn't seem to find the strength.
She wanted him to touch her, to explore her sensual curves.

"My God, Alec," he
breathed into the top of his cropped blond hair, her hands gripping his head.

He responded by yanking the edges
of her robe apart, revealing the web-thin shift. Peyton thought the garment
might slow his pursuit, but she was wrong. His massive hands gripped the
material and ripped it in half in one clean motion.

She was wide open, her most
private areas revealed to a man who confused her desperately. Alec's breath
came in ragged gasps as he ran a finger along the crests of her breasts,
observing their flawlessness as his gaze locked onto the triangle of golden-red
curls between her legs. Peyton shuddered violently against his touch.

"Christ, Peyton," he
whispered raggedly. "You are so perfect. So.... beautiful."

He dipped his head and began to
kiss the swell of her round, firm breasts as she bit off a rattling moan. His
huge hands gently traced underneath the swell of the globes, moving to grasp
her slim waist and completely encircling her torso as his mouth worked lower
and lower, feasting.

Peyton was nearly incoherent,
knowing he was moving for the brazenly taunting nipples and not wanting to wait
any longer to experience the pleasure. He was torturing her with his leisure
pace and she refused to endure the anguish; turning her body slightly, a tender
morsel of nipple slipped easily into the glove of his mouth.

Alec clamped down and she let out
a loud gasp of ecstasy. It was better than she imagined, more wonderful that
she could have hoped for. His hot mouth suckled hard and Peyton bit her lip to
keep from screaming. Her whole body was a quivering, hot mass and she felt as
if every bone had left her. Her hands cradled his great head firmly, forcing
him against her nipple as if she were nursing a starving child. Alec suckled
her until she was raw with ache, but still she gasped for more.

She was unaware of the tears of
pleasure that were filling her eyes, dampening her cheeks as he moved from one
breast to the other with great desire. His huge hands were clutching her torso,
his fingers digging into the soft white of her flesh as his mouth ravished her
thoroughly. His lust was running rampant and his hands left her waist, fondling
the creamy globes with tender power as his lips left her nipples and forged a
hot trail down the division between her ribs. 

She groaned softly as he reached
her soft abdomen and he felt a violent surge of passion surge though his body;
he suddenly bit down and suckled her sweet skin so forcefully that a purple
love bite appeared immediately. Peyton's only response to the erotic mark was a
low growl.

Alec was possessed; he'd never
lost control in his life and he was shocked to realize that he had done
precisely that. He hadn't meant for their encounter to go this far, having
truly only intended to taste her again as he had this morning, but the moment
his tongue met with her honeyed flesh he was spiraling out of control and he did
not care. Not only was he experiencing the fire again, he was a roaring
inferno. He'd never had a woman who inflamed him as Peyton did.

In fact, he'd never had a woman
before. Period.

Aye, he'd tasted the exotic flesh
of the Holy Land just as he had sampled the wares of his native England. But
he'd never lain with a woman simply because he had never possessed the complete
desire to bed any one particular woman and, mostly, he'd submitted to their hot
mouths purely to satisfy his own selfish lust.

Completely self-centered, he had
demanded the women service him. And they had, willingly; the result being that
Alec had probably lived through more sexual experiences than any man alive;
technically, however, he'd never experienced intercourse. His pleasure had come
upon the bed of the female tongue.

But he realized as he feasted on
Peyton's flesh the most prevalent reason he had never lain with a woman was
because he had never found one that tempted him beyond reason. Until now. He did
not want Peyton to service him; he wanted to service her and gorge himself
doing so. For the first time in his life, he wasn't concerned with his own
relief.

He had found the woman he would
marry, the only woman worthy of his bed, and he would have her. His massive,
heavy organ was straining against his hose uncomfortably and to make matters
worse, Peyton had unknowing wrapped her legs about his body as he ravished her
in the chair. Her body was responding to him wildly, without reserve, and he
suddenly lifted her out of the chair and laid her on the Saracen rug in front
of his father's desk.

"Alec!" she gasped,
attempting to regain her senses from the throes of passion. "What are you
doing?"

He grinned seductively.
"What does it appear, my lady? The chair is most restrictive for our
needs."

Peyton did not wish to forfeit
her virginity on the scratchy bed of a woolen rug and remembered well the time
when James had tried to do just that. But if Alec tried to kiss her again, she
was lost. The man had power over her that James never had; it had always been
exceedingly easy to control James, to manipulate him, and she had taken great
pleasure with the control she exerted over him. With Alec, it seemed as if the
tables were turned and she was the mindless, willing to do anything he asked.
But with James....

James.

Guilt swept her. How could she
allow herself to respond to Alec so freely, so wantonly, when she still loved
James? She was betraying their love in the deepest sense by reacting to the
passions of another man. Alec knew too well that he could incite her into a
frenzy with his passionate touch and blazing mouth, and she was suddenly angry
with him. How dare he force her to submit, to forget her loyalties!

But she knew as she gazed at him
that he was to be her legal husband. James was gone, dead for nearly a year,
and there was nothing she could do to alter the course her future had decided
to take. Yet, a fighting spirit deep inside her could not give in. Not yet.

"You will not have me on the
floor, Alec," she said firmly, rolling away from him and rising to her
knees.

He was lying on his side, gazing
up at her. "I.... I apologize, then. My bedchamber is at the top of the
stairs."

She shook her head, her red hair
wild and untamed and completely charming. Primly, she closed her robe from his
scalding eyes. "I think it best if I return to my bedchamber, alone."

He reached out and gently grasped
her arm. "What have I done? If I have done something, then...."

"You haven't done
anything," she assured him, rising to stand. "'Tis just that my head
aches terribly and I want to sleep."

"I see," he said
softly, but she could hear the disappointment in his tone. "I am sorry to
have forced myself upon you when you are not feeling well. Would you allow me
to escort you to your room, then?"

She almost refused, but his
beautiful blue eyes were looking at her earnestly and she felt herself
relenting. "Aye."

He rose swiftly, entirely too
swiftly for a man his size. He startled her with his rapid movements and she
took a step back from the huge body that was suddenly standing in front of her.
He smiled down at her and protectively pulled the top of her robe together,
covering her white chest completely.

"I am sorry I tore your
shift," he said softly. "I.... well, I sort of lost myself...."

She put up a hand to silence him.
"I let you. I should not have, but I did, so there is no one to blame.
Jubil will fix it."

"Jubil?" he looked
puzzled. "Of course, your aunt. I understand she is been in some sort of
fit since her arrival."

Peyton gave him an embarrassed
look and was about to provide him with an evasive reply, but she reconsidered
her strategy. He was, after all, the next lord of St. Cloven and would find out
about Jubil's peculiarities soon enough. Better to forewarn him.

"She is not been in a fit. She
is been.... having visions."

"Visions? What sort of
visions?"

Peyton sighed sheepishly.
"Jubil believes herself to be a witch. She divines fortunes and foretells
the future. Sometimes, anyway, depending on what potion she ingests. More often
than not, however, the concoctions simply make her crazy."

He grinned faintly. "A crazy
witch, did you say? What an interesting family I am marrying into."

She raised a droll eyebrow.
"As if your family is any less peculiar. A belligerent sister you call
Moppet, an older brother who is most strange, and a father who thinks I taste
nice. Really, Alec, how can you accuse my family of being odd?"

"I never said odd, I said
interesting," he corrected her, taking her arm as they moved from the
room. "And my father isn't the only one who thinks you taste nice."

She blushed to the roots of her
hair and he laughed a soft, throaty rumble. "Your innocence is charming,
for such a firebrand."

She gasped in outrage, slapping
his arm feebly. "Not another word, Alec."

He snickered, enjoying her
embarrassment. "Why not? Your response pleases me more than you can know.
We will do well together, you and I."

She did not want them to do well
together. She wanted to continue to keep him at a distance, his wife in name
only and in body only. She did not want him to become a part of her mind, as
well. James had become an integral part of her soul and his death had caused
her nothing but torture.

He sensed her brooding silence as
he led her to the stairs. "Now why so quiet? You do not want us to do well
together?"

"Nay," she said before
she could stop herself. "What I mean is...."

Alec froze at the base of the
stairs, the warmth gone from his expression. "Do you truly intend to hate
me for the duration of our married life, Peyton? I do not want you to hate
me."

Her eyes were laced with
uncertainty. She did not want to hate him either, but he was cold and....
certainly, he was not cold now, but it was all a grand performance to force her
to relax her guard.

.... wasn't it?

Gently, she pulled her hand from
the crook of his arm and felt the sting of puzzled tears tweaking her eyes.
"I cannot love you, if that is what you want."

"I do not care if you love
me or not. I simply do not want to spend the rest of my life with a woman who
loathes me."

Peyton gazed at him a moment,
swallowing the tears, the confusion. She had been very clear that honesty was
to be the cornerstone of their marriage and she suddenly felt the urge to tell
him everything that had been making her insane with frustration.  Gazing into his
sky blue eyes, she knew that the time had come.

"I would be truthful with
you, Alec,” she said quietly. “The only time you are pleasant with me is when I
yield to your passion. The rest of the time, we are usually arguing or fighting
over something. Your cold demeanor confuses me greatly. If I told you I hated
you, it was because you frustrated me terribly. I simply do not know what to
think of you at times."