Authors: Ginger Solomon
One Choice (20 page)
****
“Let's work on your language lessons for a little bit.” Josiah had to get his mind off the feel of her lips or he'd never make it. He desired her body more than any other woman he'd ever met, but he wanted more than her body. He wanted to love all of her, and to do so he had to know the woman behind the body. He had to know her mind, her desires, and her dreams so he could fulfill them.
For the next few hours, they sat together, changing positions as needed for him to be comfortable. He taught her the royal language. She picked it up rather quickly.
“How many languages can you speak, Cahri?”
“Umm⦠I don't know, three or four, I guess, and a smidgeon of a few more. I always went with Mom and Dad when they went to the other villages and towns. In order to play, you had to speak. Some of the children helped me learn. Sometimes I picked it up just by listening. I never found it to be too difficult.”
What a perfect wife God had sent him.
They spent the evening talking about sports, horses, politics and a host of other things. He thought it odd no one bothered them all afternoon except to bring dinner. It was like God had allowed them time to talk and learn about each other. But every time he'd wanted to do more than talk with his new wife, when he'd desired her body as his and couldn't seem to summon the control to turn away, there had seemed to be a revolving door of people wanting their attention.
“Time for your physical therapy,” Cahri said.
“I don't want to do the physical therapy right now.” Josiah frowned and grumbled something else she couldn't make out.
“I know. Too bad.” She smiled to soften her words.
He grunted and glared at her.
“What would you have me do? Ignore the doctor's orders? Let your leg shrivel up while you recuperate?” She paused and lowered her voice. “Please don't fuss with me.”
He grunted again.
She sighed. The exercises caused him pain. She tried a different tactic. She reached for his hand. “Josiah, my husband.”
He stared at her.
“I care for you a great deal. You know I do. Please let me take care of you as I'm supposed to do.” She studied him then tried to entice him with her smile. “I'll give you a kiss for every leg lift you can do, if you'll do this with me for thirty minutes.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
She bit her lip. Had she gone too far?
“A bribe? You shouldn't bribe the future king.” His tone was stern, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his true attitude.
She chuckled at his mock severity. “Then don't think of it as a bribe, but as a reward for good behavior.”
He chuckled. “Okay, wife. Do your dirty deed. Humiliate me. Torture me, if you must. However, I insist these,” he grabbed her hat with one hand and the clip holding her hair with the other, “must go.”
“But they keep my hair from falling into my face.”
“I'll do that,” he replied.
“You'll be busy. How about a compromise? I'll leave off the hat, but will put my hair into a ponytail.”
“Okay, but it comes down when we're finished.”
They worked hard for thirty minutes while praise music played in the background. Sweat slid down both of their faces with the effort of the exercises. Cahri handed Josiah a glass of water, and he gulped it like a man dying of thirst. When finished, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. Cahri got a cool cloth and wiped his face.
“Would you like me to get Waseem so you can get washed up?”
“No. You will assist me.”
Cahri opened her eyes wide. “But⦠but⦔
“But what? You are my wife and are capable of seeing me without my clothes. You have before. It should be less awkward this time,” he said without reserve, opening his eyes to look at her.
Her face heated. “Okay,” she whispered.
“First, however, I will take some of those kisses you promised me.” He raised his eyebrows with boyish innocence except for the twinkle in his eyes.
“Oh, you,” she said, flustered. She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. He reached up and snagged her ponytail, pulling it free. As he weaved his fingers through her hair, he pulled her closer for another kiss. It was not tender or short. He growled low in his throat and then released her as if she were a hot coal. She questioned him with her eyes before moving away, hurt by his actions.
“Josiah?” she whispered.
He ignored her and shifted away with his jaw clenched.
Her eyes burned with tears. She reached out to touch his cheek, but he grabbed her wrist. Pulling her hand away, she waited for him to explain or apologize, but he didn't. She twisted to leave, grabbing her hat and clip. The pain in her chest fought for release. Just breathing hurt. How many more times would she be rejected by him? Each time hurt a little more.
“Cahri, please don't go,” he whispered.
She stopped but didn't turn.
“Come here.”
His velvety voice made the request hard to resist, but she chose to respond with a shake of her head, not willing for him to see the pain etched on her face. “I can't.” She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before continuing. “I will get Waseem for your bath.” She walked toward the door.
“Cahri!”
She stopped again and waited. What could he say that would change how he'd just made her feel? What could counter the rejection?
“You promised not to run away.”
“I'm not running away. You made it clear you didn't want me here.” Her reply held just a hint of the pain crushing her heart.
Oh God, why did you put me in this place to be hurt by the one I am trying my hardest to please, to love? Why does it hurt so much? What's wrong with me?
“Come here.” The velvety voice vanished, replaced by a commanding tone she couldn't ignore.
Cahri retraced her steps, keeping her eyes lowered. At the side of the bed she waited.
“Look at me.”
She started to shake her head, but Josiah's hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her closer and lifted her face with his other hand.
His eyes were hard and unyielding, angry.
Tears formed and threatened to spill from her eyes. She wracked her brain trying to figure what she'd done wrong, but thought of nothing, no reason for his rejection.
She watched as his eyes softened in understanding. “I didn't mean to send you away.”
“No? What would you call it then? What would you have me do instead of walking away? Stand here and wait for you to reject me again? Fall on my knees and beg you for your touch? Do you want me to plead with you not to be angry with me, when I don't even know what I did wrong?” Her voice escalated until she yelled at him. She recoiled, upset she had lost control, but she didn't leave.
Couldn't leave. He still held her wrist.
She inhaled and continued. “Maybe you think you want a wife, but I think you want a servant whom you can call when it's convenient and send away when you don't feel like company, someone to warm your bed, but not give your heart to.” She sighed. “I can't be that person. I want all of you or none of you. This back and forth, first passion and then rejection, hurts more than I can say.” She trembled with the desire to flee. “I'm trying hard not to run, but you're making it difficult. Every time you push me away, I feel like something inside of me is breaking.”
“Please, Cahri, let me explain.”
She didn't move, couldn't because the pain held her in its grasp, as much as his hand held her wrist.
“I know it must seem like I was rejecting you, but I wasn't. A broken leg and busted ribs doesn't mean the rest of me isn't working as it should. I am a mostly healthy man. You ignite fires in me which are right and proper, but I can't fulfill them, not like this. There is a point where I have to stop, or there will be no turning back. A point which is coming sooner and sooner in our time together. I want you so bad it hurts. It is not you I'm rejecting, but my desire to have you. The one way I know to fight it is to quit touching you or being touched by you.”
She sniffled.
“Forgive me?”
She nodded without turning around. “Josiah?”
“Yes, my beautiful wife?”
“Why can't we⦠why can'tâ¦?”
He inhaled and groaned, but she didn't think it was due to pain. It was a different kind of groan. “Turn around and look at me.”
She shifted to face him.
“I want you to see my sincerity when I say this.”
Her eyes moved to his.
“I want you more than you can imagine. You ignite something inside of me that is unquenchable, but I want our first encounter to be special, memorable, because we will remember it, no matter when or how it happens.”
“Why can't it be special right now?”
He shifted his gaze away. “You know you're pushing, right?”
She didn't answer.
“I want to be able to please you, not just be pleased by you. My lack of mobility would hinder that.”
“Josiah?”
“Yes?”
“What if I don't care? What if I want to please you and feel you and kiss you⦔ she paused as she felt her own desire rise, “everywhere?”
“My wife⦔ he murmured.
Cahri dropped the hat and clip and took the last step toward the bed. She reached a tentative hand toward him. Her desire overwhelmed her fear of his rejection. “Please, Josiah, don't push me away again.”
He glanced up and she saw his struggle. His eyes pleaded with her to understand.
She lowered her hand and her eyes. “As you wish,” she murmured, disappointed. “I need some time alone. I will send Waseem in for your bath.” She waited, wanting him to call her back, but he didn't. She picked up the clip and after twisting her hair, clipped it into place and then put her hat on.
“Cahri, I'm sorry.”
She nodded and left. After getting Waseem, she walked through the gardens and decided she would be Josiah's servant until he was ready to make her his wife, in all ways. Sitting on the bench, she stared at the window to their room. Stormy weaved himself in and out of her legs before meowing for attention. She picked him up and scratched behind his ears. A purr rewarded her efforts.
“I can't keep feeling the hurt as I have in the last week, Stormy. I'll never last.”
“Meow.”
“I know. Separating myself from him will hurt, too. But the ups and downs are worse because it gives me hope things will change. Then they don't, and my heart aches more.”
“Meow.”
“Yep. I've made my decision. No touching. No kissing.”
Stormy stood and licked her cheek.
Cahri laughed. “Okay, no kisses from the prince. No quiet conversations as he brushes my hair or rubs my shoulders or wraps his arms around me making me feel safe and loved.”
On her shoulder now, Stormy pawed a lock of hair that had fallen from her clip.
“I'll miss his touch the most. He's so gentle. What am I going to do, Stormy? How will I survive this?”
“Meow.” Stormy jumped down and chased a butterfly.
Maybe she could just find something else to occupy her time. No, it wouldn't work. She was his nurse, not just his wife.
When she returned to the room, Josiah slept. She stared at him, and tears trickled down her face. The choice she was forced to make hurt almost as bad as the rejection. She wanted to be his wife, not his servant.
She didn't know how she would make her plan work. If he spoke to her with soft words or if he touched her, she'd melt. He fulfilled all the requirements she had dreamed about in a husband. But it was like having a favorite dessert on the other side of a piece of glass. She could see it and smell it, but not taste it. She could feel him and hear him and see him, but he was not all hers.
Would he ever be?
****
When Josiah woke, he called for Cahri. She came to him, but something had changed.
He watched her for a few minutes. “Do you forgive me for before?”
“Of course.” She answered without looking at him.
“Why won't you look at me then?”
“Because I can't.”
“You can't? Of course you can.”
“No, my prince, I cannot.”
“So, we've gone backward yet again.” He sighed. “When will this stop, Cahri? This yo-yo we're on, where one minute I am your prince, the next I am your husband?”
“When I become your wife.”
“You are my wife!” He sucked in as much air as possible. He needed to remember yelling hurt his ribs.
“On paper, yes.” She replied softer than before.
“What's the matter with you?” He didn't understand, and the bewilderment came out in his voice.
“I told you before. I want all of you or none of you. You have chosen to not give me all so that is how it will be, at least for a while.” She paused and then added, almost too soft to hear, “I don't know how else to survive.”
“Oh, Cahri. I want to give you all. You don't know how much I want itâ”
“But you won't, so it is a moot point. Your
wants
are obviously irrelevant, as are mine. I cannot handle the yo-yo of desire and rejection, so I have made a choice to avoid it.”
“How?” His mind swam with the idea that she would leave. She'd wanted to earlier. Would she now?
“I will be your servant, not your wife, until you are ready to accept my companionship as it is meant to be.”
“Cahri, my wife.” What could he do? “Come here.” He couldn't stand this. He wanted her, but he denied himself for her benefit. Maybe abstaining wasn't such a good idea.
She shook her head.
He gritted his teeth. “Obey your husband.”
Her head shot up at his command, but she obeyed.
“Sit.” He hated the sternness in his voice, but it made her respond to him. He lifted her chin, but she avoided eye contact.
He removed her hat and released her hair. She didn't move. He was thankful. Fear she would run from him again caused his hands to tremble. He ran his fingers through her hair to untangle it.
She shivered.
He smirked at her reaction. “You are not as immune to my touch as you would like to be, are you, my wife?”
She didn't answer.
He caressed her cheek and ran his hand to the back of her neck. She must have sensed what he was going to do because she stiffened and resisted his pull, but he was much stronger and won.
She peered into his eyes. He knew she would see his determination. Giving her up was not possible. She had to know how much he loved her and wanted her. He kissed her, careful to be gentle. He broke away to look into her eyes again. He wasn't satisfied. She still had too tight of a control on her emotions. He pulled her to himself again. This time he started the kiss with tenderness at first and then became demanding. She resisted for a few minutes, but soon she returned the demands he placed on her with some of her own. He relaxed his hold on her neck, confident she would stay put. Her hands moved to his cheeks, holding him to the kiss as she climbed farther onto the bed. Despite never breaking the kiss, he noticed she was careful not to put weight on him.
He cradled her waist with his hands as the kiss deepened. He allowed his passion free reign for the first time.
When they broke apart, they were both breathless. He saw his desire mirrored in her eyes. She kissed him again, not as long or demanding this time. She tasted so sweet. He couldn't get enough. He pulled her to him again, but she broke the kiss and began kissing his chin, then his neck. He tightened his hands on her waist. She had no idea what she was doing to him.
“Please, my husband?” she whispered in his ear. He groaned and moved his hands up her body, caressing along the way.
She moaned in his ear and switched her attention back to his lips where he greeted her with eagerness.
He was close to being past the stopping point. He broke apart from her. “Cahri, are you sure? This is your last chance, if you're not.”
He waited, but when she peered into his eyes, he could see she was sure. He groaned.
She glowed. “I'm sure, my husband.” Her breath caressed his ear.
He pulled her down for another kiss. As much as he demanded with his mouth, she responded. She ran her hands down to his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt. He inhaled and allowed himself to enjoy her touch.
A sharp knock startled them.
“Not now,” he yelled before he began caressing her ears and neck with his kisses. She shivered again. He loved knowing he affected her as much as she affected him.
“Josiah?” his mother called through the door.
He grunted at the interruption.
Why now?
“Just a minute, Mother.” He gazed at Cahri and then released her, taking a deep breath to calm his raging desire. He buttoned his shirt. She twisted her hair with deft movements and clipped it in place.
“Come in,” he said, once they'd both straightened their appearances.
“I'm sorry to disturb you.” She glanced from Josiah to Cahri and back again.
He saw a faint pink rise to Cahri's cheeks.
“I came to remind you, despite your note on the door, you are expected at dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?” What had he forgotten?
“Yes, I told you about it last week before your accident. The dinner with the king of Broquill. He will be arriving soon, and while your father and I don't expect you there to greet him, we do expect you both at dinner.”
“I had forgotten. Thank you for the reminder. We will be ready.” He calculated how much time he would have with his wife before it was time to prepare for dinner.
Enough.
After his mother left, Cahri stared at him with a question in her eyes. He shrugged. “It's been an unusual week. I forgot.”
“What time should I be ready? And what should I wear?”
His eyes roamed over her body, enjoying what he saw. “Later. I'd like to go back to where we were before we were interrupted.” His voice sounded deep, even to his ears.
She blushed and tried to move back, but not quite fast enough to keep him from catching hold of her arm. “Oh no, you don't. You started something it's time to finish.”
He pulled her closer.
She pretended to resist.
“I thought you didn't want to,” she whispered with a hint of teasing in her voice.
He growled and nibbled at her ear.
She giggled.
“Oh I wanted to, but chose not to. Now I can't help myself.” He pulled her hard into his chest, ignoring the pain it caused. He guided her lips to his as he expressed his desire through his kiss. Once again, he pulled the bothersome clip from her hair, and she found the buttons on his shirt. She managed to get them all unbuttoned and started weaving her fingers through the hair on his chest. He groaned at the desire he could see expressed on her face. She was so beautiful.
“It's soft,” she murmured as her lips follow his jawline to his ear and down his neck.
He trembled with the urge to take her, but he waited.
“You are very handsome, my husband.”
He watched her face.
“You are beautiful, my wife.” He reached out his hand and touched the silkiness of her hair. He grabbed a handful and tugged her back into the range of his mouth. “Cahri,” he whispered. “My wife.” His kiss was rough and demanding, but she responded to his passion with equal fervor. He moved his hands from her hair to her waist, struggling to find the hem of her blouse. He wanted to touch her skin. He felt her tremble beneath his touch.
A knock on the door halted his exploration.
“What now?” He grumbled loud enough for her to hear, but not the person outside the door. “Will we never get peace?”
Pink tinted his wife's face.
He touched her cheek with his lips. Raising his voice he said, “What is it?”
“Josiah, mother told me to show Cahri what outfit to wear tonight.” Anaya's voice called through the door.
“Must it be now?” He didn't even bother trying to hide his irritation. He started buttoning his shirt and nodded for her to also straighten herself. He knew what Anaya's answer would be.
“Yes. I'm busy later.” Just as he'd expected.
“Alright. Come in.”
He whispered to Cahri. “I will find the time to be with you soon. Since I have given myself permission to have you for my wife in all ways, I find I don't have much patience to wait for long.”
The look she directed at him made him groan. He wanted to send Anaya away right now and skip dinner, but he knew his father would throw a fit if he did.