The Marriage Prize (24 page)

across the door and turned to face his bride.

Rosamond averted her eyes from his nakedness and turned

away.

"I wish it could have been a happier day for you," Rod said.

"I don't know what you are talking about, it was a lovely day,"

she said with icy sarcasm. She turned to face him, the bril iant,

false smile stil in place.

"You married me for the wrong reasons, Rosamond. It was

more to please Eleanor and Simon than to please you or me."

She did not deny it. "And you married me for the right

reasons?" she chal enged.

"I am convinced that I did," he said quietly.

Her lashes swept to her cheeks as she remembered the

words she had flung at him: You wil never have my heart.

When she recal ed his reply, it brought a wave of dismay: I'l

settle for your body... and your castles. These were his

reasons!

"Wel , whatever the reasons, 'tis done, for better or for worse."

She laughed to mask her hurt, and moved to the dressing

table to busy her hands with the things Nan had brought.

"That's odd." Rosamond picked up her brother's dagger that

she had found at Deerhurst. "Why ever would Nan bring this? "

Rod approached her and lifted the silver dagger from her

fingers. "Your woman thought you would have need of it."

Rosamond turned uncomprehending eyes upon him.

"Obviously Nan thinks you have already yielded your virginity

to me." He moved to the bed and deliberately slit his thumb

with the dagger; three drops of crimson blood fel onto the

pristine sheets. "She doesn't realize you are wil ing to yield

nothing to me."

"I have married you and yielded my property to you, but I won't

yield my body to you. At least not wil ingly!" Rosamond tossed

her hair back over her shoulder with a bravado she did not

feel.

Rod pierced her with his green gaze. "I do not merely want

you wil ing, as if it were a duty; I want you eager."

She avoided looking at his body. "I shal never be eager!“

Her insult mauled his male pride. "Oh, my love, you are quite

mis-

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taken." He padded toward her like a raptor stalking its prey.

He could see she wanted to flee, but her pride kept her rooted

to the spot. Rod did not pounce upon her, but slowly took her

hand and lifted it to his lips. Into her open palm he placed a

kiss and closed her fingers over it, then the tip of his tongue

traced across the pulse point in her delicate wrist and trailed

up the inside of her arm where the wide sleeve of her silken

bedrobe had fal en back. He felt her shiver and knew it was

from fear.

"If you ravish me, I vow I wil hate you forever!"

"I have more pride than to ravish any woman, let alone my own

bride. Rather, I intend to woo you to a giving mood, chérie."

"Perhaps other women cannot resist your seduction, but I am

not other women, my lord!"

Recal ing Edward's recent advice he rejoined, "No, you are an

ice maiden in need of a thawing, and a stubborn little fil y in

need of a firm hand and a touch of the spurs!" Rod made a

conscious decision not to tel her she had nothing to fear from

him. He knew it would add to the titil ation of his seduction.

"Look at me, Rosamond."

When she kept her eyes on his, refusing to lower them to his

naked body, he moved closer and al owed his erection to

probe the silk bedrobe as if it were seeking an opening. He

heard the swift intake of her breath and watched her glance

down. Her eyes widened as she saw, for the first time, the

long scar on the inside of his thigh, that ran from groin to knee.

"Did you receive that in battle?"

"It is an old wound; we wil not speak of it."

His hands reached out to her, but did not remove her bedrobe.

Rather they glided around her and began caressing her back

through the slippery silk. Rod could feel how stiffly she held

herself in her resolve to resist him, so his hands then slid to

the front, cupping her breasts, stroking, weighing, circling until

the friction of the sliding cloth heated her silken skin. Al the

while his swol en phal us probed against her bel y, touching

and teasing in an erotic mating dance. Rod knew she could

feel the heat of his hands and his cock through the finespun

silk, just as he could feel her warm flesh.

Rosamond splayed her hands against the naked muscles of

his chest to push him away, but she might as wel have been

pushing against the stones of the castle wal s. She drew in a

swift breath to steady herself

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as his fingers reached out to caress her woman's center. The

silk acted as a flimsy barrier, sliding over her mons, arousing

her against her firm resolve. Her traitorous body seemed to

have a wil of its own, separate from hers. She silently cried

out against it as she began to feel a wanton hunger. The silk

covering her cleft became wet, then slick, and her woman's

scent lingered in the warmth her body gave off, tel ing him the

secret of her desire.

She prayed that he would not kiss her. Her mouth, which had

not tasted his since Deerhurst, began to ache. She tried to

banish al thought of his kisses, but once imprinted, never

forgotten, she realized with yearning. Her husband was dark,

dominant, and dangerous, and he excited her so much she

wanted to scream. Desperate to hide her arousal, Rosamond

took refuge in anger. She pressed her mouth against his

muscular shoulder and bit him.

When she lifted her mouth from him, she saw his eyes glitter

with green fire, and when he raised his hand she thought he

would strike her. Instead, Rod gazed down at her and traced

her lips with his fingers. "That is the second love bite you have given me today. It tel s me you have a passionate nature, mon

amour,” he said. Then he cupped her cheek and stroked his

thumb across her cheekbone, seeing and touching every

feature of her face as if it were both lovely and precious. His

fingers threaded into her hair, stroking it, toying with its

tendrils, lifting it to his face to inhale its fragrance, and even

drawing a golden tress through his lips to taste its texture.

Rosamond both loved and hated the attention he paid her. It

was like nothing she had known before, but it had a narcotic

effect, melting her resistance and making her crave more.

She dreaded yet longed for him to remove her bedrobe,

yearning for him to lavish attention upon her body, yet silently

screaming her denial. Of its own volition, her body arched

against him, displaying her need, and his knowing hands

plucked her strings like a harp, awakening, arousing, and

exciting her female sexuality.

Slowly he unfastened her bedrobe and slipped his hands

inside its silken folds. Then he proceeded to start the loving al

over again, but this time directly upon her naked flesh. He

dipped his dark head and took possession of her lips, luring

her to open so he could plunder her

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mouth. Her stubborn resistance lasted for long, drawn-out

minutes in a mating duel she tried valiantly to win, but final y,

inevitably, Rod's insistent tongue delved deep, tasting her

honeyed sweetness, then it plunged boldly in and out, in a

rhythm that mimicked what he real y wanted.

Rosamond's wil was almost completely eroded by the magic

of his wooing. Her ability to think was being drowned by her

body's need to feel. Desperate, she blamed it on too much

wine. She had drunk so much, her inhibitions had vanished.

Her last coherent thought was that she could either fight his

desire or fight her own, but she could no longer fight both. Her

hands slid up his chest, and her arms went about his neck, so

that she could press herself against the hard length of him. His

male power excited her, making her feel soft and female and

utterly fragile. She went up on her toes to arch against him,

and his hands went beneath her bottom cheeks to lift her onto

his jutting sex. His shaft lay along her cleft, and when he slowly

walked toward the bed, the hot sliding friction made her gasp

as her desire mounted.

Rod lay back on the bed and took Rosamond down with him.

He held her in the dominant position above him and

shuddered with pleasure as her long golden hair spil ed down

onto his chest and shoulders. She was truly a breathtaking

prize, one he had rendered both wil ing and eager to

experience the mystical hymenal rite. When Rod saw

something beautiful, he always had an overwhelming urge to

possess it, yet he knew that even if he did possess her

tonight, he would not experience the deep satisfaction of

ownership. For although Rosamond was now wil ing and

eager to yield her body, she was nowhere near ready to yield

her heart.

Her violet eyes gleaming with witchery, Rosamond slowly

lowered her lips to his and felt a thril as he responded

passionately, unable to resist her feminine power. She

quivered with little tremors as her breasts pressed against the

muscles of his wide chest and her nipples were abraded by

his crisp black hair. The fragrance of sandalwood mixed with

his own primitive male scent was such an erotic combination,

it acted as an aphrodisiac upon her. Inflamed by desire and

needing to be fil ed with him, she rose up ready to impale

herself upon his manroot.

In a flash, Rod had her beneath him. He suddenly felt a

perverse desire to keep her a virgin. His towering pride

wanted al or nothing. He wanted her to love him total y and

completely when he made her his

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wife in the deepest sense of the word. He pressed a marble-

hard thigh between her legs and felt her grip him and ride up

and down on it, with a smal whimpering sob. "Hush,

sweetheart, I know what you need." His fingers unerringly

found her woman's center, and al owing only his fingertips to

penetrate her, he stroked with a slow, firm rhythm, taking her

higher and higher until she erupted and dissolved into a

thousand liquid tremors.

Rod cupped her entire mons possessively with his palm and

held her until the last pulsation stil ed. "Rosamond, you are

beautiful in your passion. Say my name, I want to taste it on

your lips."

His words shocked her, bringing her back to her senses. She

had al owed him to take complete control over her. Her

resistance had melted like snow beneath the blazing hot sun.

Was she so starved for love and attention that he could

seduce her against her wil ? Now he was even tel ing her what

she must say.

He touched his mouth to hers. "Rod," he whispered, his lips

against hers.

"Devil!" she hissed.

He laughed wickedly. Then his lips trailed along the curve of

her throat, burning a path to her lush breasts, now firm and

peaked from her arousal. His hot mouth sought her bel y, and

his tongue dipped playful y into her navel, before it inched ever

lower toward its goal. He knew she would cry out when he ran

the tip of his tongue between her legs, but when he curled it

about her tiny bud he had not anticipated her scream.

"Stop, you devil!" she cried, writhing beneath his wickedly

beautiful hot mouth.

Deliberately he began to lick and tease her, knowing her

arousal had already begun again. He set up a delicious

rhythm and smiled knowingly when she joined her body to the

tempo. He was careful not to thrust too deeply, though he

could feel the hot, wet pul of her on his tongue. Then he

stopped the pleasuring and held stil . "Rod," he prompted, his lips against her fiery core.

Rosamond remained silent for a ful minute.

"Rod," he tempted, kissing a tiny pulse point.

Her silence stretched out for another minute, then on a shud-

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dering sigh, she whispered, "Bastard!" and gave herself up to his beautiful mouth.

For hours he kept her at the peak of her arousal, making love

to her with his hands and his mouth, then final y when he could

bear the self-imposed sexual torture no longer, and his gut

ached from the hours of love play that had not reached its

natural conclusion, he knew he must seek release. Straddling

her waist with his thighs, he slid his shaft into the val ey

between her upthrusting breasts, then he took the round

globes into his hands and squeezed until his throbbing

erection was sheathed.

She cried out in low protest, "My lord, what are you doing to

me?"

Rod was too far gone for words. It took only a dozen thrusts for

him to reach climax and scatter his seed across her silken

skin.

Rosamond was stunned at how possessively he held her until

he drifted to the edge of sleep. If he felt this way, why had he

not consummated the marriage? Was it because she kept

part of herself from him, so he had done likewise? She was

amazed that she had been able to keep her vow and that they

were stil married in name only. Then her innate honesty

asserted itself. It had absolutely nothing to do with her. He