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Authors: Terri Brisbin

BOOK: A Storm of Pleasure
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Gavin could not hear a sound, but the feel of the ship’s movements told him they were moving on the water. His arms grew numb as he struggled in vain against the ropes.

Deciding to conserve his strength for a chance to make his escape, he rolled to his stomach and rested his pounding head against the deck. He was inside a boat, a ship, big enough to have a covered deck or a lower interior deck. Whoever had planned this had wealth to pay for the use of such a vessel. Whoever planned this wanted him alive, for it would have been easier to kill him in that alley rather than to take him, unobserved, out of the village to a dock large enough for this ship. And there was no need to feed a man intended for death.

Whoever planned this had known he would follow Katla.

Would Godrod, her servant, have been so bold? Gavin knew of no one else who would act on her behalf. Did her brother yet have supporters who would do something like this? And to what purpose? He had never tried to force the power within him, but could he? Could it be used when demanded? He thought not, though he’d felt more in control of it during this cycle. Too many questions and no answers.

So he would wait. His hearing would return, soon he hoped, and then he would be able to discover who his abductors were. He had doubts, but he feared he know who was behind this scheme.

Her name was Katla Svensdottir.

Chapter Eighteen

T
hough his hearing remained clouded, his sense of smell worked only too well. And after what he thought had been four days at sea, the smell of his own skin was rank.

At first, he thought he must be far out at sea for there were few thoughts or sounds invading his mind. Then he understood that the control given by his joining with Katla was strong even now. With each passing day, though, the voices grew stronger and louder and it took more effort on his part to gather them behind the wall in his mind. He tried to keep them contained in that way as he had before, but that ability waned as the time since he and Katla had last made love increased. Gavin noticed, for he had plenty of time to consider such things, that he was not feeling the usual overwhelming sexual need. He laughed then, harshly, through a throat unused in days. For so many months he’d lived for the next nameless, faceless woman he would have and now when he could think of only one, she might be the person behind this.

As he feared, without Katla’s physical presence, the clamor began to increase just as his hearing began to return. If he had more time and Katla with him, he might be able to determine if she really did make a difference. Their few weeks together were not enough to answer the questions raised about why she was different from every other woman he’d bedded.

When the ship slowed, Gavin prepared to learn his fate and the reason behind his taking. The vessel came to a stop, but it seemed as if hours passed before he felt footsteps on the floor of the chamber. Then without warning, they untied his feet and half dragged, half lifted him up to the main deck, where he was handed over the side. Now in a smaller boat, he felt others surrounding him and decided escape was not yet possible. They slid to a stop and once more handed him over the side and then walked him through shallow, cold water to the shore.

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” His gag had been removed. He asked even though he was uncertain whether he would hear the answer given. “The earl will pay any ransom you ask for my return,” he offered. Men desperate enough to do something like this might be willing to accept gold for his return. He did not know whether anyone responded to his questions.

Too many days of inactivity immediately after being drained by the ritual weakened him, and Gavin could hardly resist anything they wanted to do. He was pulled along, away from the shore and onto more uneven terrain, where he was helped over rocks and up a hill. Soon they drew to a halt, and he waited to meet his fate.

Instead, they removed the bindings around his wrists and loosened the rag tied around his eyes and pushed him inside a small cottage. As his eyes adjusted to the light, the door closed behind him and he heard a bar dropped into place. Turning around to look at this new prison, Gavin found it to be a strange one—for a large tub sat off in one corner of the main chamber. And it was filled with water!

He almost laughed as he noticed the bowl of soap, drying cloths next to the tub, and the clean set of clothing lying on the bed. The bed? Aye, a pallet covered in clean linens lay in the other corner, separated from the tub by a table on which a meal sat waiting for him.

Gavin knew there was much more to this, but the thought of being clean after so many days in the hold of a ship and the aroma of a hot, cooked meal convinced him to see to his needs first. He attacked the food, tearing apart the roasted fowl with his hands, peeling the meat from the bones and shoving it in his mouth. He found fresh bread and a crock of butter and another of soft cheese, and made quick work of the meal after days of shipboard food.

Finished with filling his belly, he decided to take advantage of the bath prepared for him. Why not? If whoever controlled this endeavor wanted him clean and comfortable, why should he refuse? Convinced his life was not in danger, he peeled off his dirty tunic and trousers and tossed them near the door. He unlaced his shoes and rolled down his stockings and left them near the pallet.

Gavin dipped his hand in the water—it was neither the warmest nor coldest bath he’d climbed into. He could not stretch his legs out, for it was a round tub and not oval shaped like the one in his chambers. Still, it was a pleasure to sink into the water and he reached over the side for the bowl of soap. Intent on the task, the gentle touch of a hand on his back surprised him. He dropped the soap and turned to meet Katla’s equally surprised gaze.

 

Katla had to force herself away from Gavin on the ship. She’d watched from a hidden corner of the alley as he was taken by the men Godrod had hired. Selling off one of the gold armbands had provided her with enough coins to hire the ship and the men to sail it south to Scotland. And to kidnap the earl’s truthsayer and bring him along on the voyage so that he could save her brother’s life.

Though the need to keep him alive and well had been impressed on those hired, Godrod would not let her intervene in his treatment on the ship. Doubts had filled her as she’d watched Gavin tied and blindfolded below deck. She’d even called out his name once, but he was still deafened and did not hear her. It could be days more before he regained his hearing, but at least they would be miles and miles along on the journey to the abbey and palace at Dunfermline. When his gag had been removed and he’d begun calling out for help, she’d clenched her fists and fought not to go to him.

Once ashore, she’d given him some time alone before entering the cottage. Katla wanted to touch him, to ease his fears and to explain what she’d done but she waited. Words filled her mind, every possible thing to say, every argument to use to convince him to help her, but nothing seemed quite right.

Haakon had told her to offer him a bargain no one else could, and she thought she knew what that was—another month with her. It would be an easy thing for her to give. After spending weeks with him, fulfilling his every sexual need and experiencing pleasures she’d never felt before, she understood the bargain better than the last time she’d agreed to such a thing. The only difficult part would be keeping her heart untouched by him.

The twinge she felt as she watched him in the tub, unkempt and deaf, told her it might be too late for that.

Now, though, she would need to persuade him to do something he’d refused to do. The tightness in the pit of her stomach warned her of the danger in the course she’d chosen, but her need to save her younger brother, and to fulfill her promise to her father, pushed her forward. When he reached over and picked up the soap next to the tub, she touched his back to tell him she was there.

“Ah, you show yourself at last,” he said, shifting away from her hand. He turned back and scooped some soap out, rubbing it over his skin and lathering it. “I wondered when you would step out of the shadows.”

She said his name but he did not react—whether from inability to hear or his own stubbornness, she knew not. Reaching over, she snapped her finger and thumb behind his ear, where he could not see her action. Nothing. He was still deaf, so any explanations would have to wait. But it was clear he understood she was behind this kidnapping.

Did he hate her now? Taking him prisoner when he was most vulnerable and then keeping him tied up without explanation? Trying to force him to do something he’d refused to do? He might still refuse to perform the ritual with Kali. From his comments, she thought he had little control over his truthspeaking.

Could he stop it? Could he choose a different subject? She shuddered, thinking that all her efforts might fail and he would hate her for nothing.

He’d cleaned his chest and stomach and moved onto his shoulders. Katla noticed the scrapes on his back, probably from when they’d dropped him on the deck and when they’d dragged him along the alley. Guilt pierced her. Before she thought on it, she stepped closer and dipped her hand into the soap. Kneeling behind him, she spread it on his back, dabbing it gently on the injured places. He stiffened beneath her touch and then relaxed as she rubbing the soap into a lather and used both hands to clean his skin.

The feel of his muscles under her hands reminded her of many, many other times when one touch led to another and another, and heat spread through her. Would he accept her body now that she’d done this? Did he even still want her as he had during the weeks before the ritual? He gave no sign of that ravenous hunger for her that had resulted in their first night together last month. If he did not want her, would she have anything else to bargain with?

Yes, she had one more thing to offer. She realized after listening to Haakon that there was one other thing Gavin needed that no one else could provide to him—the truth of his origins.

Though she did not know much more than he did, Godrod had traveled far with her father and told her of stone circles on some of the western isles and in the west of Scotland. After their experience that day in the stone circle near Durness, she suspected there might be a connection between the stones and his power. Without proof she could not say definitely, but Godrod, who could speak the language of the Scots, promised to find out more when they arrived in Dunfermline or in Dun Eidann, the large and growing city on the other side of the firth.

Gavin shifted beneath her hands, bringing her attention back to him. He leaned forward, giving her access to his lower back. Another bucket of water stood next to the tub, so she lifted it and wet his hair to wash it. Long accustomed to seeing to the hospitality of her father’s houseguests, Katla quickly and efficiently cleaned him, wincing when she encountered the lump on the back of his head where he’d been struck.

He put up with her ministrations silently, not saying another word or acknowledging her touch as she worked. For her part, Katla tried to ignore the feel of his skin, knowing that she’d kissed and tasted most every inch of his body. She tried to ignore the way his muscles tensed, remembering the strength of them when he held her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. And she tried to ignore the wanting and desire curling deep within her own body as she watched him stand before her.

His cock stood rampant only inches away from her mouth and she forced herself to remain unmoving. Just the thought of taking it in her mouth and suckling on it made her body ache. A wetness grew between her legs. Katla wanted him even knowing that nothing was settled between them. Even knowing he might leave her behind. Even knowing the risks to her heart, she wanted to feel him within her, touching her as deeply as a man could.

She did not take her eyes from his cock as she scooped more soap in her shaking hands and smoothed it over his legs, moving higher and higher. His inward-drawn, hissing breath as she skimmed over it to clean his hips and stomach encouraged her.

He was not immune to her touch. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Before talk of bargains and agreements, they were just man and woman.

She slid her hands around his cock, grasping it as a man would take a sword in his hands, and lathered the length of it. When she dared a glance at his face, Gavin closed his eyes, dropped his head back, and let out a moan of pleasure. Feeling the power of his arousal, she caressed his cock, sliding her hands around and under the sac and massaging it gently. Deciding she would take his cock in her mouth, she lifted up the bucket and rinsed the soap from it. But before she could pleasure him in that way, he stopped her.

“This changes nothing, Katla.”

There was much to say and much to settle between them. She did not bother to reply because she knew his ears would not hear her words. Instead, she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to the head of his cock. Sliding her fingers around it, she stroked it, her tongue gliding over the skin as her hands caressed the length. He allowed it for only a few moments and then stepped back.

“Your gown is going to get wet,” he murmured in a voice husky with arousal and need. “Take it off.”

Her body ached now at the thought of joining with him. The knowledge of the pleasure he would bring her forced a shudder that shook her to her core. The tips of her breasts tightened and more wetness gathered between her legs. She fumbled with the clasp of the brooches that held her tunic in place, unable to unhook them. Wasting no time, Gavin reached over, took all the layers she wore in his hands, and pulled them over her head. Naked and shivering with need, she stood before him as his gaze burned her skin with its intensity and desire.

After tossing her garments aside, he stepped from the tub and stalked toward her. She could still have resisted, but he lifted his head up and closed his eyes for a moment, sniffing the air around them as though searching for a scent. Katla breathed in his musky smell, and it awakened some primitive need within her, increasing the desire that pulsed through her blood in anticipation of his first touch.

She arched, her breasts swelling with need, her core throbbing and wet for him. That he could not hear her words at least saved her from the humiliation of admitting that need to him aloud. The first touch of his body and hers came in a most unexpected way, for nothing but their lips met. Far gentler than she imagined it could be, he covered her mouth with his, teasing the line of her lips until she opened to let him in.

Then it was a like a storm erupting around them; the air seemed charged and filled with excitement and arousal. He wrapped himself around her, lifting her and walking her back to the pallet in the corner, where he took her down and spread her legs with his body. He entered her with such power that it was her turn to gasp. Then, she could think no more, for her body took over and simply felt his every touch.

The last cohesive thought that flitted through her mind was that he was wrong.

This time, this joining of their flesh and souls, changed everything.

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