Samantha James (36 page)

She caught her breath when she discovered he was still soaking in the tub. She paused, wanting to flee yet not certain she dared. She'd not put it past him to come after her, naked or no! She closed the door and cleared her throat nervously, alerting him to her presence.

He merely glanced over his shoulder. "I left the linen on the chest. Could you get it for me?" His manner was easy and nonchalant. He acted as though her presence during his bath were an everyday occurrence.

Swallowing hard, Kathryn passed it into his waiting hand, envying his composure. Her heart beating clear up into her throat, she fled to a stool before the fire, deliberately turning her back to him. Behind her, she heard the slosh of water. It took no stretch of the imagination to picture Guy's bronzed, hair-roughened limbs, sleek and wet, as he climbed from the tub. Ah, and her traitorous mind did exactly that! An instant later she heard the slap of wet linen against the stone floor, then the sound of him climbing into the bed.

Nervously she began the task of unplaiting her hair. Anxious awareness gathered in the pit of her stomach, for she could feel his eyes drilling into her back. She picked up a comb and began to work slowly through the tangles.

Long minutes later, he sighed. "You dally apurpose, Kathryn. I begin to think you find your husband repulsive as a toad."

She had forgotten the night she had riled him with that very taunt. Ah, but he was cruel to remind her so! "Repulsive, nay," she muttered. "Aggravating, of a certainty!"

His laughter grated. "Could it be you need help with your gown then?"

She spun to fix him with a glare. A mistake, that! He was powerful and imposing despite the way he lay indolently sprawled on his side, supporting himself on one elbow. The furs were drawn up no further than the jutting ridge of a narrow hip. He was clearly naked beneath the furs.

The sight of that dark haired chest and belly made her stomach drop clear to the floor. But Kathryn could not be so casual about her own nudity, particularly not in her present condition. Beneath the sheltering protection of her kirtle, she tugged off her hose. Her soft woolen kirtle came next. She pulled it over her head and shook her hair free.

Guy had yet to relieve her of his bold stare. Clad only in her thin linen chemise, she clutched her kirtle to her middle like a shield. "Must you look at me so?"

Her hair spilled over her bare shoulders, sleek and shiny as the wings of a raven, and offering tantalizing glimpses of ivory skin. His gaze lowered slowly from her exquisite features, lingering with avid male interest on the shape of her breasts beneath the sheer linen. One corner of that hard mouth curled upward. "I see no harm in staring," he murmured lazily, "especially when I see much that I like."

She stomped her foot. " 'Tis just like you to mock me!"

Guy's smile faded. "Mock you?" he repeated incredulously. "What mockery is there in a man eager to share with his wife the joys of the marriage bed?"

"And I ask you what joy is there? We've been wed for four days—nay, five!—and you've yet to make me truly your wife. Indeed, you've made it very clear that for you it will only be a duty! Well, I hereby relieve you of your duty, milord. No one need ever know our marriage has never been consummated!"

The last was fairly flung at him. Indeed, the whole speech was. No longer amused, his jaw clamped shut. "What goes on here?" he demanded. "Do you deny me my rights as a husband?"

"You play the wounded bridegroom well," she said bitterly. "But you need not spare my tender feelings, for I have accepted that you no longer desire me."

"No longer desire you .. . woman, you are mad!"

She shook her head. "Nay," she said unevenly. "That night in the forest before we returned to Ashbury, when you discovered I was with child—” She swallowed. “—I saw the way you looked at me, Guy."

"And how—" His voice was dangerously low. "—was that?"

Her throat was achingly tight. "You looked as if I. . . as if I disgusted you." She didn't hear his impatient exclamation as he swung himself from the bed. Her eyes were swimming so she didn't see him until he'd planted himself directly before her. She gave a tiny shake of her head and went on unsteadily. "Guy, it’s all right, really. I understand why you—you no longer want me. I've grown ugly and fat and—"

Lean fingers pressed against her lips stopped the outflow of words. "And since you've been doing far too much thinking and coming to all the wrong conclusions, it seems I must explain after all." He paused, his gaze delving deeply into hers. Kathryn found she couldn't look away.

"I could hardly take you unto me surrounded by my knights," he chided, his voice very low. "And last night, well, you were exhausted." He tugged her kirtle from her grip and tossed it aside. His touch bold and sure, he stretched his fingers wide across the hard mound of her tummy. "Ugly? Fat?" He scolded her gently. "I think not, sweet, for you are enticing and feminine and delightfully round and full. And you are a fool if you believe I find you anything other than desirable."

Her eyes clung to his. She longed to believe him, longed for it with all of her soul. But she was so afraid of being hurt again.

"You do not believe me?" Her uncertainty twisted Guy's heart. "So be it then. Mayhap I can show you much better."

The abruptness of his movement startled her. Her pulse leaped in protest as his hand closed around hers, flattening her palm and dragging it down across his stomach . .. ever down. She gasped as he brought the plundering journey to a halt, closing her palm around his throbbing member and keeping it there with the insistent pressure of his.

Kathryn was stunned to find him rigid and thick, swollen with arousal. His size made her quiver, yet it was not with fear. Her heart pounding wildly, she watched his eyes squeeze shut. A jolt tore through him as she extended her fingertips in an involuntary, tentative caress.

His eyes flicked open, searing hotly into hers. There was a subtle tightening of his hand around hers. "Feel," he said thickly. "Feel what you do to me and never doubt that I want you. Feel how your touch makes me tremble. And know that you alone, Kathryn, hold this power over me. You alone have the power to make me quiver like a stripling lad."

He spoke of power, but the relief that poured through her made her giddy and weak. He wanted her. . . Guy wanted her. She gave a strangled little cry and slipped her arms around his neck, melting against him. His hands slid around to cradle her buttocks, pulling her full and tight against him.

He bent his head and sealed her lips with his, a kiss both tender and fierce. His tongue swirled far and deep. She tasted the hunger in his mouth and responded with a wild fervency that made his heart soar.

He tore his mouth from hers, silver eyes aflame. "You make me feel greedy," he muttered, already lowering his head. He feasted on the sweetness of her lips until her legs felt like melted wax; if not for the supporting strength of his arms she'd have fallen into a clumsy heap at his feet. And then she was the one who trembled when strong hands stripped away her chemise. She felt herself lifted and borne upward, lowered gently to the bed a moment later.

He stretched his length beside her, propping himself on an elbow so he could look his fill, his regard slow and unhurried. Kathryn blushed fiercely, her gaze shying away until she finally gathered the courage to glance at him again. A wealth of unexpected tenderness lurked in the depths of his eyes. His expression made her throat ache.

His hand splayed possessively on the naked swell of her belly. "You've naught to be ashamed of," he whispered hoarsely. "I tell you true, sweet, you're beautiful. Everything a man could want. . . everything I want."

She clung to the words and to him. Turning her head, she blindly sought his mouth. His kiss was tender and piercingly sweet. Tugging her hands to his chest, he wordlessly invited her touch. Her fingers crept across his chest, tangling in the dense dark fur as she explored his skin, warm and faintly damp. Her touch was shy and untutored but soon grew more daring. The muscles of his stomach clenched as she ventured lower. Her knuckles grazed the ridged plane of his abdomen. Cool fingers curled once again around his straining hardness. Both shy and eager, her small hand shaped and curved, gently stroking with the tips of her fingers, acquainting herself with his satin-and-steel texture, his searing heat and fire. His hand engulfed hers, clamping tight over hers as he showed her the way of it. And then he gritted his teeth against a pleasure so excruciating it bordered on pain.

A groan tore from deep within his chest. Unable to bear her sweet torture any longer, he bore her gently onto her back, hunger wild and rampant in the urgent demand of his mouth on hers. With his thumbs he teased her nipples to aching little buds, over and over until she was nearly delirious with pleasure. Her fingers knotted in his hair.

Heat stormed through her like molten fire. She moaned when at last his mouth encompassed the dark straining center, tugging gently with a rhythm that tipped the world upside down.

But there was more. His fingers stole through the downy nest that shielded the secret folds of her femininity, stroking and parting and teasing, rousing her to the brink of madness. Her heart plunged into a wild frenzy. She thrust up against him, her hips unconsciously circling and seeking those maddeningly elusive fingers, uncaring that he might think her wanton and bold. Her fingers clenched and unclenched against his shoulders. Tiny cries of pleasure burst from deep inside her.

His body was on fire for her. The blood was pounding in his head, roaring through his ears. His shaft was swollen and engorged. The long lonely weeks of emptiness and frustration .. . Need and passion combined, nearly blinding him to all but the compelling urge to plunge deep within her satin heat. It was then that he felt it. . . a slight stirring where her belly pressed his, a reminder of the tiny life sheltered deep within her womb. He raised himself above her, hauling in a stinging lungful of air as he struggled to control his rampaging desire.

Tension strained his arms as he braced himself above her. She touched the rugged hollows of his cheeks, explored the sensuous curve of that beautifully shaped mouth that brought her to the brink of the heavens. She trailed her fingers over his smooth shoulders, explored the tightness of his arms, loving the sleekness of his skin, the resilience of keenly honed muscle. Their eyes met and melded as if a sizzling flame arced between them. She whimpered, wanting his straining fullness buried hard and deep inside her, so deep they were no longer two, but one.

Her eyes opened. Her nails dug into his arms. "Please," she gasped. "Oh, Guy, please."

The naked pleading in her tone beat at his resolve. The thrusting, seeking movements of her hips against his wordlessly conveyed her need. A sound of half-frustration, half-surrender escaped his throat.

One soul-shattering thrust took him clear to the heart of her.

Her sob of joy tore at his control. "Kathryn," he groaned. "Oh, God, this is so. . ." He shuddered against a pleasure so acute it was nearly unbearable. When she reached for him, he caught her hands. Their fingers locked together. Entwined. Inseparable. She arched her hips to take all he would give and more.

His mouth covered hers. He drank in her mindless cries, each gasping little whimper, each tremor of her quivering flesh clinging tightly to his. The tempo of his thrusts was deep and slow, gradually gaining power and momentum, until the pounding rhythm inside them both reached a fever pitch.

Shivers raced the length of his spine, heralding fulfillment. He cast his head back, the cords of his neck taut, his features twisted into a grimace of pleasure. Amidst the frantic thunder of her heart, Kathryn knew a surge of boundless joy, her pleasure expanding all the more because of his. Then suddenly she was caught in the same explosive rush to completion, hurtled high aloft. His thrusts reached a crescendo. She felt herself swept ever higher, soaring like a falcon on the wind until at last she reached that pinnacle among the clouds. Release claimed her, pulsing through her in wave after delirious wave. She was only dimly aware of crying out his name.

When it was over he eased to his back and tugged the furs over their heated bodies. A sinewed arm swept her tight against his side. Fingers that were incredibly gentle brushed the hair from her flushed cheeks. A long, lingering kiss of infinite sweetness met an eager welcome in lips soft, warm, and willing.

Exhausted, sated, content, they slept.

Chapter 17

Such was not the case a sennight later.

Kathryn had excused herself early, as she had these last few nights. Oddly enough, marriage to Guy had not yet proved a battleground. Guy had seen to it that her duties as lady of the manor were light, and Kathryn was secretly grateful. Though her pregnancy had not made her pale or wan or sickly, by evening she drooped like a wilted flower, so tired she could scarcely stand. This evening was no exception. Guy had immediately rose to accompany her but she shook her head and waved him back to the game of chess he played with one of his knights.

Upstairs in their chamber, she shed her kirtle and crawled quickly into bed, shivering a little against the chill. Beyond the shuttered windows, the world lay hushed and still. Early in the day, a dense veil of fog crept across the land. From the tower window she watched trailing fingers of mist stealing through the valley, wrapping like silent tentacles around the trees, until the earth lay cocooned beneath a murky shroud. One of Guy's men had stomped into the hall, complaining that he could scarcely see his hand in front of his face.