Samantha James (14 page)

She fancied the dust from her days of travel lay thick and heavy on her skin. Succumbing to temptation, she stripped to her chemise and bent to the stream. Cupping the cool, clear liquid in her hands, she rinsed her face. Again and again she scooped the water from the stream. Tiny rivulets streamed down her arms and the calves of her legs. She ended by splashing her chest—once, twice, again, gasping a little at the chill. And though she felt cleaner, she didn't feel as refreshed as she'd hoped to.

She darted a hasty glance around the glade. High above, a few birds still chattered and flitted to and fro. Impulsively, Kathryn quickly shed her chemise and dropped it on a rock. She was safe here. There were no prying eyes to invade her privacy.

That was hardly the case.

From behind the concealing breadth of a black oak, bold gray eyes consumed her every move. The thin linen of her chemise hid little of her sweetly feminine form. His mind besieged by lustful imaginings, Guy sucked in a harsh breath when she cast the hem of her chemise up and over her head. His gaze roamed hotly over the visual feast she provided his eyes.

She had twisted her hair into a long rope and drawn it over her-shoulder. Her ivory skin glistened like a lustrous pearl. She was slender almost to the point of thinness, and yet her hips flared out from a waist that was incredibly narrow. Her breasts were full and perfectly formed, round and alluring and tipped with nipples the color of a creamy pink rose. She was as breathtakingly flawless as he had imagined—and there was the rub, he thought with a twist of his lips. He despised her, and yet he had dreamed of seeing her like this. Naked and open to him. Bare as a babe.

In the instant before she waded into the stream, his gaze swooped to the naked flesh below her waist. His lips thinned to a stern line. There was no sign of a babe swelling ripe and round in her belly—none at all! Between the span of her hips, her belly was concave and hollow. Doubt gnawed deep inside him. He wasn't entirely ignorant where childbirth was concerned. He reminded himself that it might be weeks before she grew heavy with her burden.

Slipping from the stream, Kathryn wrung the water from her hair. Shivering a little, she hurriedly donned her garments. Hunger gnawed at her stomach as she built a small fire. She hadn't much food, only what she'd managed to slip into the small pouch tied to her kirtle, but it would be enough to get her back to Ashbury. She gnawed on a hard crust of bread, making it last until darkness settled over the earth.

The moon climbed slowly aloft. The night was dark and crystal-clear. Flung against the ebony sky, the stars glittered with bejeweled brilliance. But although the day had proved warm and pleasant, with the setting of the sun the night's chill soon pulled her within its grasp. Huddled beneath the scant protection of her cloak, Kathryn edged closer to the fire, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees for warmth.

A low mist began to gather, hovering just above the ground. The howl of a wolf pierced the air. A wolf. An eerie feeling prickled along her spine. She had thought the glade to be safe, but was it? These woods were filled with all manner of beast— including two-legged ones, as she well knew! And all at once every tale of cutthroats, murderers, and renegades she'd ever heard rampaged through her mind.

She was suddenly on guard, her nerves sharpened to a screaming pitch of awareness. A slight sound from across the glade brought her upright. She lurched to her feet, her eyes frantically searching the night-shrouded stillness. But she spied naught but trailing fingers of frothy mist swirling through the trees.

It was into that gossamer mist that a masculine form took shape, tall and powerful. Kathryn stood as if paralyzed. She wanted desperately to run, but her legs refused to do her bidding. Against the midnight gloom, the man appeared dark and featureless.

And then he stepped forward, close enough that the flickering firelight cast granite-hewn features into stark relief.

Kathryn stared, stunned and disbelieving. The beat of her heart grew still and silent, then leaped wildly to her throat as horror clutched at her insides.

"No," she whispered. A low sob tore from deep inside her, a cry of desolate despair. "No!"

Panic raced through her. She rushed blindly into the encroaching forest. Branches whipped across her cheeks, stinging her eyes. A cry escaped her as she stumbled. She quickly pushed herself from the damp ground. Did she only imagine the pounding footsteps behind her. . . or was it merely the rampant thunder of her heart? Her mind beset by frenzy, she had but one coherent thought—she would not yield herself over to him so easily. She had to keep running. .. She had to escape!

But alas, there was no hope for it—no hope at all.

He was upon her, his arm about her waist like an iron band. She found herself lifted and tossed over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Kathryn screamed and struggled and squirmed, clawing and pounding his back with fists and nails. But his jarring steps never faltered. In desperation she sank her teeth into the flesh of his back.

"Bitch!" Guy muttered. He gritted his teeth and flung back her skirts. Gritting his teeth, he resisted the impulse to fling back her skirts and bring his palm down on her shapely rump.

By no means had he quelled her intent. He deposited her rudely on her back near the fire. Kathryn tried to roll away, but he was there above her, pinning her beneath outspread legs. Though she was gasping and winded, sprawled beneath him like a hare on a spit, she wasted no time venting the full force of her fury on him.

"I loathe you, my lord earl! You are the spawn of the devil, the son of a warted toad! May your soul rot in Hades for all eternity—"

"Should my soul end up in hell," he interrupted smoothly, "rest assured yours will dwell alongside mine."

His gaze, cool and relentless, touched the fire in hers.

Kathryn struggled upright. He stepped back a pace but made no move to help her. Once on her feet, she choked back a cry of bitterness. "Damn you! Why couldn't you simply let me go? Why did you have to hunt me down like an animal!"

"Nay, not like an animal. Were that the case, I'd have homed in for the kill hours ago." He smiled at the confusion he read in her expression. 'You did not realize that I followed close behind, eh? You could have been back within my grasp well before the sun reached its zenith—indeed, before you left my tent last night."

She regarded him numbly. "What are you saying? That you let me escape? That you were but a step behind me the entire day?"

His smile widened in silent assent.

Kathryn's eyes rounded. God in heaven... ! Had he been at the stream while she stripped and bathed? At the realization that he had seen her almost naked, her face began to flame.

'You tricked me!" she accused. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Why?" He arched a heavy black brow. "I should think the answer is obvious. You acted like a child who would test the limits of discipline, and so I thought to teach you a lesson, a lesson that you go nowhere lest I say so. 'Tis my will which will triumph over yours, Kathryn."

"Never," she vowed.

"Always."

He moved before she realized his intention. His hand locked around her wrist. He brought her against him with a force that ripped the breath from her lungs.

"You escaped me once, milady. Do not think to do so again, for I vow I'll not be so lenient the next time."

She shrank back instinctively, unable to stop herself. Until that moment she did not realize how truly angry he was. Now, his eyes seemed to burn with all the fires of hell.

His laughter was a terrible sound. "Afraid, Kathryn? Ah, lass, you should be, for you try my patience as no other before you. You have put me to much trouble—much trouble indeed. And I begin to wonder that you are worth it."

Somehow she managed to raise her chin and match his stare bravely, but her knees were shaking. Never had a man been more threatening by simple virtue of his sex. He towered over her, tall and powerful. His jaw was set tight. His silver eyes pierced through her like a lance. She read in his eyes the desire to punish her. She resented him for his power over her, even as she despaired her own weakness.

Courage come to her then—a reckless semblance of it, at least.

"Go ahead!" She taunted him unthinkingly. Let them meet as the enemies they were. "It won't be the first time I've felt the bite of the lash or the cuff of a man's hand. Or mayhap now that you've killed Richard, you've a mind to murder me as well!"

"I will only say this once," he growled. "I did not murder your uncle, though nothing would have given me greater pleasure. Yes, I sought vengeance! But someone cheated me of my revenge."

"And I am to believe you? This from a man whose code of honor includes trickery?" Her lip curled in disdain. She tried to wrench from his hold. He wouldn't let her.

His arms came around her, tight and unyielding, trapping her hands between them. His mouth enveloped hers, merciless and untamed, the pressure of his lips against hers so demanding she felt the gnashing of his teeth against her own. His tongue dove deep within her mouth, deep and plundering. Unaware that she did so, she gave a tiny whimper of distress, and suddenly, the tenor of his kiss began to change.

The world about her seemed to spin and swirl. The fusion of his mouth on hers was no longer hard and brutal, but hungry and seeking. She fought against an insidious pleasure. In some far distant corner of her mind, she was appalled that she could feel such a thing with this man. Yet she was helpless to prevent her fingers from slowly uncurling against the breadth of his chest.

Guy nearly groaned aloud. She was so slight, his outspread hand at her back nearly spanned the width of her waist. Her bones were fine and fragile. She felt as if she would break in half, yet there was a lithe firmness about her that drove him to the brink of madness.

He'd only meant to remind her that her will was subject to his, or so he'd told himself. But now his blood pounded thick and heavy along his veins. His hands strayed below her waist, discovering the lushness of her buttocks. With a guttural moan, he lifted her into the cradle of his thighs, fitting into the vastly male triangle of his thighs, molding her full and tight against him.

Kathryn stiffened in shock. Something strange and alien stirred against the softness of her belly. Hardening. Growing...

A growl erupted deep in his throat. He wrenched his mouth from hers. "Damn you." He nearly flung her from him. "Damn you for tempting me!"

"Me!" Her cry was one of outraged indignation. "Why, 'twas you who kissed me! Why do you blame me instead of yourself?"

The tension spun out endlessly. He hated this unreasoning desire he harbored for her. He longed to banish the taste of her from his lips, while another part of him longed to snatch her back and let things lead where they would, consequences be damned.

His gaze fairly stabbed into hers. "You, my lovely Kathryn, are a whore. No lady of virtue would do what you have done!"

"And what, pray, have I done that you find so despicable?"

His voice was as cutting as his eyes. "You sought the pleasures of the flesh with Roderick without benefit of marriage—and now you pay the price!" Kathryn flushed as his gaze raked down to her belly and back again. "And need I remind you that only four nights past, you offered those very same pleasures to me. You played the whore for Roderick, but by God, you'll not do the same with me!"

Stung, Kathryn shrank back as if she'd been struck. A fervent denial trembled on her lips. Why, her embrace with Roderick wasn't at all what it seemed! And that night at Ashbury, she offered herself to him out of desperation, nothing more. But the distaste on his countenance shocked and shamed her. How could she tell him that she couldn't possibly be with child? He would brand her liar as well as slut.

But it seemed there was no need for explanations after all. He stalked to his destrier and grabbed something from behind his saddle. A moment later he flung a blanket at her feet.

"Go to sleep," he said harshly. "We leave at dawn."

Sir Hugh raised a hand and rapped on the oaken portal that guarded Elizabeth's chamber. There was no ensuing response, so he knocked again, this time more firmly. At last he heard a faint stirring from within. "Who is it?" called a faint voice.

" 'Tis I—Sir Hugh. I must speak with you, Lady Elizabeth."