Highland Steel (Guardians of the Stone Book 2) (32 page)

They discovered the body, half frozen, at the bottom of the well.

Jaime inspected him personally from pate to foot. Aside from a knot and cut upon the back of his head, there was yet another welt upon his forehead, and scrapes along his arms, consistent with a fall down the well shaft. But that wasn’t likely what killed him. What killed him was that he landed nose down in the well and he probably drowned while he lay unconscious. As far as Jaime could tell there was no sign of foul play, but it gave him pause to know the man had come to him only yestermorn for help in searching for his missing son. As yet the boy had not been found and he questioned Maddog and a few others, learning that the lad was wont to play about the well, climbing up and down the shaft, despite repeated warnings from his father.

Apparently someone told the blacksmith they’d spied his son near the well, and the worried father went to investigate, but not before swallowing a good pint of ale. His clothes reeked, the scent strong despite a good soaking in the well.

And as for that, he’d never scented more stinking well water in all his life. It stank as though a thousand men had pissed down the shaft, and more.

While it pleased him to know his wife was already aware of the problem and that she was in the midst of an effort to clean it, he was hardly thrilled with the loss of their only blacksmith. He did not know Afric well enough to feel personally aggrieved for the man’s death, but he felt terrible for those who had cared for him. The girl Kenna had not taken it very well. When asked if she’d yet seen the man’s missing son, she shook her head, covered her mouth and ran away.

Jaime hated to be so petty, but he was heartily glad the man had at least completed his bolts before drowning himself first in drink and thereafter in the putrid well. The gates could not wait. The rotting wood would never endure an assault, and now that they seemed to have won a reprieve from the weather, he planned to tackle the gates forthwith. Only now they were left with one less man to defend the castle and no blacksmith or armorer, for here they were one and the same.

Jaime ordered yet another pyre, and that evening the entire castle gathered in the bailey to see Afric off to the otherworld. Jaime himself didn’t believe in heaven or hell, but what he believed didn’t matter. It was his duty to provide for his people this side of death, and God’s on the other.

After the funeral, Jaime climbed the steps at the end of the day, tired and ready to seek his bed. He would no more hold Lael to their wager than he would expect her to even remember it after such a harrowing day, but what he found upon opening the door gave him a second wind.

No matter how Lael viewed the wager, she’d lost fairly, despite having stacked the odds against him. Aye, she had knowingly given him two marks that would neither prove his worth, but then, she hadn’t expected him to be as good as she was.

He is not such a terrible scourge.

The thought filtered through her mind as she soaked in the tub. In fact, she could have done far worse, even amidst her own kinsmen: Willie, whose balls hung so low they peeked out beneath his breacan, or Brude, the toothless bugger—both of whom had already asked her brother for her hand in wedlock. Lael had not considered either, nor had her brother in truth. But she’d thought for certain to remain unwed the rest of her days, given her choices.

Whatever else he may be, her husband was no ogre.

Mayhap she could not give him her heart, but giving her body would be no terrible burden. Simply the knowledge that he wanted her affected her in ways she would never have expected. And now… The thought of him touching her made her breasts burn and summoned an exquisite heat to her nether regions.

Swallowing hard, she skimmed her fingers across her belly, marveling over these new, but strange sensations, and then she wondered how she’d reached this age without experiencing such a delicious ache.

Her fingers curled into her woman’s hairs, tugging gently as the door opened. Startled by the intrusion, Lael shot to her feet, nearly slipping in the tub.

There in the tub, she stood naked and unashamed.

The breath caught in Jaime’s throat.

Tall and willowy, her body was graceful and well muscled. Her belly was flat and her skin golden everywhere but where she’d worn her body harness. There it remained milky white, her nipples dark against that unblemished skin, and puckered against the cool night air.

Or is she aroused?

His body responded quickly, his cock rising at the sight of her.

When finally his gaze rose to her face, he found her eyes wide with fear… for the first time since he’d met her. Stark green, they glistened by the firelight, like precious gems.

“I thought mayhap you’d like me better bathed,” she disclosed, and he realized belatedly that their door was open wide. He slammed it shut behind him, glad to his bones that no one had followed him up the stairs.

At least for now, she was for his eyes alone.

Still, though he tried, he could not find his voice to speak. He wanted to reassure her that if she were offering simply because she thought she must, then she needn’t do so, but words stuck like paste in the back of his throat.

Long minutes passed without a spoken word.

The fire in the brazier chattered endlessly along with Lael’s thoughts, but the room itself remained so silent she could have heard a mouse walk.

In those seconds she felt more vulnerable than ever in her life, and it wasn’t a very good feeling. She waited with bated breath to see what her husband would say, but he merely stood there, until a frown darkened his face.

He must not like what he saw, she determined, and her heart sank a bit. “Is this not what you asked for? Does it not please you?”

He arched a dark brow. “Since when do you care what pleases me?”

Lael shrugged, unable to answer that question, and not entirely certain she meant to please him even now. But they’d made a bargain, and she could hardly keep her word if he would not do his part.

The room was warm—she’d made certain of that—but the night air tickled her breasts and she reached up to cup one. His reaction was immediate and unmistakable. Even from whence she stood, she saw his pupils dilate and his breath falter. He shuddered softly and closed his eyes for the briefest instant.

What had he said? That she should seduce him?

If she could?

In truth Lael didn’t know what precisely that entailed, but she understood by the look upon her husband’s face that he was far more affected by her than he might confess. That fact emboldened her.

She dropped her hands at her sides and gave him a little knowing smile, then dared to step out of the tub.

Steam rose from the bath… and from her flesh where it met the cool night air. Jaime froze where he stood.

She lifted one hand, beckoning him to her. “’Tis been a long day,
husband
,” she entreated softly, and that one little word—husband—was like a siren’s whisper to his ears. Still he refused to move, unwilling to be given such a treasure only to lose it on the morrow.

“Lael… if you give yourself to me now, I may never let you go,” he warned, his throat husky with desire.

Her green eyes sparkled by the light of a dozen candles. “A man’s word is all he is,” she reminded him, tossing his own creed back in his face. And it was true. He felt a cold sweat break upon his brow as she moved toward him, gliding like a spirit on the wind. “If I keep my word, you are sworn to keep yours. Come and let me lave you…”

“I shall rue this day,” he whispered, and bade his feet to move. Be damned if he cared what tomorrow might bring. This moment she was his desire—a temptress from his deepest dreams.

He took her by the hand, allowing her to lead him to the bath, and then stood still before her as she removed his tunic, submitting to her will.

Whatever she would do with him he would allow it.

Holding her breath as she undressed her husband, Lael revealed all of him to her hungry gaze. Tomorrow was another day, she determined, but tonight—this instant—she knew deep down that she wasn’t compelled by duty alone.

Nay… she wanted this as well.

She wanted to know this man as a woman knew a lover.

He hadn’t flinched at her wager simply because she was a woman born. And more, she’d spied the pride in his silver eyes as she’d challenged him—as well as his unmitigated approval when she’d hit her mark so expertly. His steely eyes hid very little, and he didn’t seem to try. There was no mystery to him and that was probably why Luc knew exactly when to press him and when not to do so.

Lael was learning as well.

And now she would have her way with him and that thought emboldened her beyond measure. Beneath his gaze, she felt like a goddess of yore, a lovely faerie bride whose temptation was beyond endurance. That was how he was making her feel.

“Lael,” he whispered when she reached for his trews, and her heart beat a staccato in her ears. The feeling of unrestrained power was headier even than that she knew by simply wielding a sword. The muscles in his arms flexed but he didn’t move to stop her and she quickly unlaced his trews, falling to one knee and marveling over the sensations that swept through her own body—the prickle of excitement that lifted the hairs of her nape—the cool breeze that caressed her between her legs.

He didn’t abet her at all, simply stood there with his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, staring down at the pate of her head, but with a final tug, she yanked down his trews and gasped at what was revealed to her—a sword unlike any other she had ever held.

Her gaze lifted to find the knowing smile had leapt from her own lips now to his… a wicked smile that made her flesh ache and her nipples burn.

She rose, undaunted, and led him into the bath, coaxing him to sit so she could bathe him from head to toe, surprising herself with her boldness.

Jaime was not beguiled by simpering virgins, nor did he find himself equipped to meet their needs. Neither did he relish the thought of paying for favors. Thus it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman. After so long, there was a certain relief in the knowledge that his wife was neither an innocent, nor a whore. She was a strong lass who knew her mind and her pluck was half her allure.

She forced his head back and he allowed it, taking pleasure in the rewards of their wager. But as her fingers sank into the soapy water and brushed his thigh, inching higher, he felt compelled to warn her. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. “Do not think to tease me, Lael. If you would welch upon our bargain, you should do so now….”

He met her gaze, and for the space of an instant, time stood still. Her green eyes were like glittering gems, knowing and full of secrets. “I do not
welch
,” she whispered and then smiled, and Jaime was lost…

As confidently as she held her blades, her fingers sought and seized his hardened shaft, wrapping sweetly about his turgid flesh and he surged from the bath like a wakened beast, displacing water onto the floor.

“I gave you fair warning,” he told her as he lifted her suddenly into his arms to carry her to his bed. To bloody hell with baths and teasing caresses!

He wanted more.

Relishing the feel of the woman in his arms, he bore her to the bed, and then when she didn’t protest, he laid her down and fell atop her like a ravenous beast, kissing and lapping her wet flesh, wherever he could reach. He kissed her lips, his hands caressing her from breast to belly.

To his immense pleasure, she responded to his kisses with sweet murmurs that made his blood sing through his veins.

Lael could no more have stopped him than she could seem to find the will to breathe. Every touch of his mouth was like a flame flickering across her fevered flesh. She lay there in the throes of pleasure, enjoying every sensation he aroused. And as her husband feasted upon her body, she decided that no matter what else might come of it this… this was the most pleasant wager she had ever lost.

With a gasp of delight, she unfurled her body for his kisses, submitting to his will.