Scoundrel's Kiss (44 page)

"And then I called in Jacob, just
to be safe," she added. "No sense in being arrogant. He about slapped
the physic across the back of the head, poor man."

Gavriel nodded, his expression still
one of fierce wonder.

Drawn to him, she brushed her
fingertips over his forearms, petting the dark hair that dusted his skin. The
blemish where she had sliced his arm, a lifetime ago, had faded into a slim
pink scar. "How are you feeling?"

"When will you stop asking me
that?" He grinned, his teasing tone erasing any harshness. But always,
always, the smile faded. No matter how bright and unexpected, he caught himself
in the act and tramped it down.

"You still don't trust it, do
you?"

He looked to the ceiling beams.
"Happiness is new to me."

"Are you happy?"

"I will be when these stitches are
gone and I can hold you again."

"You can hold me now. Make
room."

The confusion that flashed across his
face made her laugh. She pulled back the mantle and slid gingerly alongside
him. Her skirts pulled and bunched in a tangle around her knees, but a few
wiggles and twists later, they nestled body to body on his luxurious bed.
Strong, sure arms hugged her close. Mindful of his wounds and her own, she lay
with her head on his chest. Although desire pulsed within her, she simply
sighed. The safety and comfort of that moment overshadowed everything else.

"Jacob never doubted you. Did you
know that? Not after he read the scrolls. He agreed with my translations and knew
a diversion would bring Pacheco into the open."

"I'm glad of that," he said,
the words rumbling out of his broad chest "He's a young man whose respect
is worth having."

Thoughts of Jacob would always cause
her a regretful sort of pain. He had helped save her life, and she would be
forever grateful that he was her friend. She only hoped that one day he would
find a worthy woman who loved him in return.

"I know," she said quietly.
"He and I... we've made our peace."

"I'm glad of it. Truly."
Gavriel kissed the top of her head. "But now, what will make you
happy?"

"Between Jacob's testimony and
your heroism, you've been cleared of all suspicion, and Her Excellency has
released me from my obligations. Now I only want you on the mend"

"Is that all?"

She mashed her lips together and made
up her mind. If they had the slightest chance of beginning a life
together— the dream she had never dared to believe—she had to hang
onto her bravery and speak. Speak to her husband.

Propping on one elbow, she looked down
at his face. Dark eyes studied her, and the hand at her hip traced distracting
circles, fingers tightening and releasing.

"Grand Master Rodriguez arrived
two weeks ago to collect Pacheco's body," she said. He tensed. "Dona
Valdedrona spoke with him, along with Jacob and me. He said the
Trecenezago
has
absolved all grievances against you with regard to Fernan. You're welcome to
return to Ucles, if you wish. Or..."

"Or?"

She stroked the smooth skin of his
upper chest, where the hair tapered to nothing and he smelled like rainwater.
"The Order has newly acquired holdings abroad. They are in need of a
brother to found a new parish."

"Where?"

Memories clamored for her attention.
Green fields and endless forests. Overcast skies that made a body want to stay
inside, seeking warmth and friendly company. Cold winter frosts over the
endless, rolling countryside.

And Meg. She would to go home to Meg.

"Inglaterra,"
she
said quietly.

"And how do you say it?"

"England."

Gavriel had not been able to breathe
since Ada climbed into bed with him. One thigh rested atop his, and her fingers
played restless games with his sanity, aimlessly touching his chest Had it not
been for his injuries and the anxious look on her face, he would have hauled
her across his body and parted her legs. An image from their unconventional
wedding night flashed through his mind: Ada astride him, her face tightened
against the building tremors of pleasure.

He inhaled deeply and stemmed a swift
flush of need. With day fading into night, they had hours to discover each
other anew. First, they would discuss the future. Their future.

"And what of your sister?"

She gnawed on a ragged fingernail.
"'Tis time for me to go home, if you're willing to come with me. Fernan
has said he and Abez would like to come as well. Too many barriers remain for
them here, although I've told them England still resists foreigners."

"How far is the journey?"

"Weeks overland to Santander, as
many again by sea, then again overland to the Midlands."

"That's an intimidating amount of
time to spend with Fernan."

"You're teasing me."

"Yes," he said, freeing his
smile.

She laughed, the sound of magic and
promises. Every fleck of darkness he had once seen clouding her eyes had
vanished. That she loved him left him humbled and looking for reasons why they
could not be together. But none remained.

He searched his own heart, his own soul
and felt nothing but breath and life. He thought of his father, dead now, and
awaited a return of his old terror and rage. Already it was fading, releasing
him a little more each day. He could be free. Dizziness that had nothing to do
with wounds or hunger or desire stole over him, leaving him humbled. He took a
deep breath before finding her eyes again—two blue pools, hopeful and
expectant

"The journey will be long and
uncertain, I admit," she said. "But it will be simple and restful
compared to clearing the air with Meg. Meg and Will, both."

"I've never traveled so far."

Ada smiled and fingered a whorl of hair
on his chest "We've done a great deal we've never tried before. Why stop
now?"

She slipped a hand beneath the mantle
and found the ticklish spot along his ribs. Laughter and pain simmered
together. He snatched her hands, ready to beg for mercy if he needed to. She
stopped her soft torture to lean nearer and kiss the corner of his mouth, light
and possessive at once. Gavriel slumped into the mattress. Giddiness made the
room spin.

"England," he said. The
spoken word in Ada's native language felt strange on his tongue. Heavy. Thorny.
How did she manage?

"Yes, England."

"That damp little island?" At
her crestfallen look, he smiled again. "My Ada, we'll have to take this in
steps. I know little about smiling, which leaves you ill equipped for my
teasing."

Her expression brightened. "You
never were a novice. You were a scoundrel in disguise."

"I'm trying." He sobered,
cupping her cheek. "But I was also hoping you'd think of me as a good man.
One day."

"One day? How about when you
rescued a sick woman from herself, or the day you nearly sacrificed your life
to save the king?"

"Nearly," he said with a
sharp laugh. "You and your potions were worse than the blade's cut. I knew
you were
una bruja

"I insist, my sister is the
witch."

"I'll have to decide for
myself."

"Does that mean we can go?"

"Anywhere, Ada. Anywhere with
you."

He closed his eyes as she peppered his
face with kisses. Catching the back of her head, he pulled her into a deep,
slow, lingering kiss. All sweetness and heat, she tasted of oranges. Gavriel
drank her in. His body tensed, his shaft rigid. He had wanted her for too many
nights. Their moments of indulgence had been few, snatched out of terror and
fear.

But this was a kiss of celebration. His
soul spun with hers in a potent vow.

The thought of vows stopped him.

"Mi inglesa,
I
haven't been the man I want to be. My failures are many. I don't trust myself
and I don't know why you trust me."

"I love you," she said
quietly. "Never once have you failed me. No one—not even you,
stubborn man—can convince me that you ever will."

"I don't deserve you."

"If you make a saint out of me,
you're forgetting how we met and what a trial I was." She outlined his
mouth with her forefinger before kissing him, slowly, just lip to lip.
"Besides, you already vowed to be my husband. Will you go back on that
promise?"

"Never"

The ferocity of his reply startled him.
But then, his promises had always been easy where Ada was concerned. Only when
he denied their love did he find himself at a loss. Wholly lost

"We're bound as husband and wife
" he whispered. "I love you."

"Do you swear it?"

Although she asked the question, she
looked at peace. She knew the answer as well as he did. Gavriel smiled and
allowed that same peace claim him, easing his soul.

"I do, Ada. I do."