Elizabeth moaned, her body heavy with desire, opening her legs without conscious thought. How she wanted him, needed him inside her, filling the ache only he could assuage.
Raynor’s fingers dipped to the thatch of black curls at the apex of her thighs, and he found her slick and wet with desire.
Slowly and lingeringly, he slid along the slim length of her. “Now, now!” she cried out. “I can bear no more!”
Shaking with his own pleasure, Raynor rose up over her, kissing her open mouth, his tongue flicking hers.
Elizabeth was past coherent thought, pushed to the bounds of reality by the passion that raged through her. She made a unintelligible sound deep in her throat.
When she reached out to him desperately, he positioned himself between her legs. As he entered her buttery darkness, she wrapped her legs around him with a cry of pleasure.
“Elizabeth, you unman me,” he cried though clenched teeth, trying desperately to gain control of himself.
“Nay, Raynor, never that.” She rocked toward him, and the motion brought deliciously radiant sensations from deep inside her. “I want all the manliness of you, Raynor.” Elizabeth began to move her head from side to side as she sought release from this all-consuming fire. “Help me.”
He rocked with her then, unable to prevent himself.
And as he thrust deep inside her, he heard her moan, calling his name with the force of her fulfillment. “Raynor!”
He gasped, and stiffened above her. He felt himself spill into her like a river entering the ocean, and a great sea of pleasure closed over his head.
* * *
Sometime later, Elizabeth wakened in the darkness of her bed. A body, large and warm, curled against her back. The pleasantly heavy weight of an arm held her close against him.
Raynor.
She placed her hand over his where it rested on her belly.
A great swell of happiness rose up to block her throat. Dear heaven, how she loved him, more than life or reason. This difficult man, with all his foibles, had come to mean more to her than anyone.
He was her life, her joy, her soul.
She lifted his hand to press a tender kiss upon its tanned back. That hand, so strong and yet so tender, was a source of protection, as well as pleasure. Never need she worry about the future with Raynor at her side. He would see she was safe and cared for.
And care for her he must, at least a little, even though he had not said the words. His gentle loving had given him away. And though it might not yet be love he felt for her, that could someday come.
She became aware that Raynor’s other hand, the one beneath her, had tightened on her breast.
He was not sleeping.
Slowly his finger circled her nipple, which hardened under the gentle stimulation. “You are awake, wife,” he said, his breath warm on her ear.
Elizabeth sighed with pleasure, rolling onto her back to smile up at him in the enveloping darkness. “Yes, husband, I am awake. As are you.”
As his hand moved to her other breast, she felt him stir against her side. He chuckled softly. “Aye, that I am. A most happy coincidence.”
Chapter Fourteen
W
hen Elizabeth woke, Raynor was gone from her bed, but the sweet memory of his caresses remained.
She blushed, thinking of the things they had done, things she’d not imagined in her wildest fantasies. Never had she dreamed that a man and woman could experience such deep and satisfying passion as she and Raynor had.
For she knew that he had felt it, too.
His tender lovemaking, the hoarse abandon of his own cries, told her he had known her wonder.
Surely this was just the beginning. Raynor would come to her tonight, and each night thereafter. Even if it wasn’t the love she craved, mayhap in time their union would turn to that.
Elizabeth forced down a sharp twinge of regret that Raynor did not love her as she now realized she loved him. There was no sense whatsoever in mourning what was not. She should focus on what was. And even this awakening tenderness he showed toward her was more than Elizabeth had ever hoped for.
With determination to face the future with optimism, Elizabeth threw back the covers and leapt from her bed.
The day, and Raynor, awaited her.
When she called for Olwyn to assist her in dressing for the day, Elizabeth’s queries as to her husband’s whereabouts were met with a disappointing reply. She was told that Raynor had gone to the practice field with his brother. Her teeth worrying her bottom lip, Elizabeth tried to suppress her disappointment. She had hoped they might spend this day together.
It seemed obvious that Raynor did not have the same desire. Determinedly she told herself to remember her resolve to allow him to come to her in his own time. That was the only way for him to truly learn to trust in her.
So thinking, Elizabeth decided not to sit and brood. It would be best to occupy herself and her mind until she saw her husband again. Though, with the memory of the previous night to heat her blood, patience would prove a hard-won virtue this day.
Resolutely she began to ready herself for her daily ride.
* * *
Raynor spent the early part of the morning in sword practice with his brother.
Both were proficient in this area, and Raynor enjoyed the contests. Today he had a hard time losing himself as he usually did in the sheer pleasure of matching skill and wits as Bronic’s sword clashed against his own.
He’d left Elizabeth’s bed as the first hint of dawn tinted the windows in her chamber a pale gold. In the dim light he’d found Elizabeth breathtakingly beautiful. Almost too beautiful to leave, with her black hair spread across the white of the pillows and the slender warmth of her curled against his side.
Not in all his twenty-seven years had Raynor thought that any woman could come to mean so much to him, much more than mere physical attraction could explain.
It was true that he desired Elizabeth—to distraction.
More than that, he wanted to lie down beside her and rest his mind. He longed to hold her every night as he had last night. He wanted to fill her with his sons and watch them grow up under her firm but tender care.
Was this love?
He wasn’t sure that he would put that name to his feelings. But if ’twas not love, it certainly felt like it.
Too late, he parried Bronic’s downward thrust and took an unexpectedly heavy blow across his hip.
Bronic stopped short. Having turned his weapon to land the blow with its flat side at the last moment, he knew he hadn’t cut his brother. He was surprised the swing had made contact. Few about the keep could best Raynor with sword. He was lithe and fast, despite his large build.
Throwing his sword to the ground as Raynor grunted with pain, Bronic scowled, his blond brows meeting over his nose. In doing so, he unknowingly heightening his resemblance to Raynor. “What are you about, Raynor? Arthur could have blocked that thrust.”
Shrugging, Raynor gave a rueful laugh, not meeting Bronic’s eyes. “Aye, you are right in that. I know not what is the matter with me.”
Bronic gave him a long, knowing glance. “You may not, brother, but ’tis no secret to anyone else.”
Raynor’s tanned complexion darkened as he blushed deeply. “I see.”
“Why do you not just stop fighting it? You love her, Raynor. Elizabeth is a good woman, and if you would just allow yourself, you’d see she is as like our mother as the she-goat is to the mare. Elizabeth is a fine filly, full of spirit and intelligence. It is time you opened your eyes and saw that she is good for you and worthy of your faith and love.”
Raynor watched him without speaking. How could he tell Bronic that he longed for nothing so much as to trust and believe in Elizabeth? Slowly he answered, “'Tis not so easily done as all that. I have seen the good she has done, felt the sweetness of being with her, and the more I want her the more I fear a betrayal, no matter how I tell myself I am a fool, that she is not like mother.” He looked to his brother for understanding. “Bronic, I cannot just say I will trust her, and do it.”
Bronic shook his head in consternation. “Aye, you can. If you but let yourself.”
Was it that simple? Raynor asked himself. Could he just set aside his fears of being manipulated and controlled as his father had been? And control him Elizabeth could, without great effort, should she choose to do so. She had become the focus of his every thought and deed.
The question was, would she?
Bronic would have him believe not. What could Bronic gain by falsely urging him to trust in Elizabeth? Nothing that Raynor could see.
Could it be that Bronic was so besotted with the lovely Olwyn that he wished to see others in the same state of bliss?
As his brother’s gaze remained unwavering on him, Raynor knew this was not so. Never in their years together had Bronic acted for anything other than his good. It was inconceivable that he would do otherwise now.
Slowly Raynor held out his sword.
Bronic took it with a grin. “Your lady is out riding. I saw her leave the castle just a little while ago. You were too busy fighting off my skillful attacks to take note.”
For that, Raynor clouted his brother on the shoulder with a hard fist.
Bronic’s reply was a rueful laugh.
Then, his expression changing to one of affection, Raynor reached out and clasped Bronic’s shoulder. “You have my thanks, brother,” he said.
Raynor knew Bronic would understand that he was thanking him not for the information, but for his support.
With that, Raynor turned toward the stables to get his own horse. Mayhap, if he hurried, he could catch up to Elizabeth.
* * *
Elizabeth allowed Minerva to have her head, and they raced freely over their usual route across the landscape.
But as she came to the top of a rise and saw a man and horse ahead of her on the path, Elizabeth slowed. Her heart sank, for even at this distance she could see that it was Nigel Harrington.
He was mad to have come here, after she had told him nay. And in his madness he could destroy all she held dear.
She knew she should ride for the keep and tell Raynor he was here, allow her husband to deal with his enemy as he would. But something stopped her. She did not want Nigel’s death on her head, for surely that was what would happen if Raynor discovered him here. The man was a source of anger and frustration for them, but did he deserve to lose his life for that?
Elizabeth was tempted to turn and ride for the keep, to avoid Nigel and the sure disaster he represented, but she could not. Fear of meeting him again would make her a prisoner in the keep. And that she could not accept. Nigel must be made to understand that she would not assist him.
Even as these thoughts passed through her mind, Nigel rode toward her, calling out her name.
She brought Minerva to a halt, waiting for him, her lips thinned in anger.
As soon as he reached her, Nigel leapt from his mount and strode toward her, leading his horse. He was clearly excited at seeing her, greeting her effusively. “Lady Elizabeth, I am so happy to see you.”
“I fear I cannot say the same in regard to you, my lord. Why are you come here? Did you not get my message?”
His lean jaw flexed with what appeared to be anger, but he quelled it immediately, raising sorrowful blue eyes to her. “I did, but I hoped there was some mistake.”
“There was no mistake, Lord Harrington,” Elizabeth answered stiffly. “'Tis a most difficult situation you place me in. I can do nothing for you. Nor do I have the desire to do so. My loyalty is to my husband.” She pulled up the horse’s reins, ready to put this situation and Nigel Harrington behind her. “I will say that I am sorry for offering false hope though, I did warn you. No, I must go, and you must not return here. If you do, I shall surely be bound to inform Raynor, and he will deal with you in his own way.”
Nigel rushed toward her, his normally placid features twisted in anger. “Foolish bitch!”
* * *
Raynor lost no time in following after his wife. He didn’t know exactly what he would say or do when he found her, he only knew he must see her. He felt alone and incomplete without Elizabeth at his side, and he was done with denying it.
He would let whatever came after today take care of itself.
Without care for what the guard at the gate might think, he galloped off in the direction the man told him Elizabeth had taken. It was really no effort to follow her, for the path was a well-traveled one.
If he hadn’t been so bent on getting to his wife, Raynor might have paused to admire the deep blue of the sky, the peaceful beauty of green meadows, deep forest and colorful wildflowers. But he was oblivious of these things on all but a subconscious level.
All he could think about was Elizabeth, and their chances of having a real life together.
Raynor was coming out of a hollow in the land and just starting up another slope when he chanced to look up ahead of him.
What he saw made his heart stop in his chest. When it began beating again, it was a heavy, aching thing inside him.