Authors: Jean Hart Stewart
She jerked a little when he pushed her nightgown upward, bunching it around her waist and she grabbed the cloth to try to pull it back down. Soon she loosened her hold on the material, not caring where her gown was as long as he didn’t halt his clever fingers. As his hands moved between her legs she automatically parted them and forgot everything but her building passion.
He found the little nubbin of flesh between her legs he’d found before and worked it carefully, first with his clever hands. He stopped once and reaching down substituted his lips for his fingers and she nearly came off the bed.
He moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her again, soothing her surprise before returning his hand to her most sensitive spot. He was an expert, she vaguely realized, using skilled fingers, stoking the fires beginning to consume her. As her passion mounted, she squirmed against him, trying to hurry the fulfillment she knew he offered so freely.
“I love you, Toria, now and forever.”
His whisper reached through the cloud of longing he’d aroused and she tried to answer him but found she couldn’t. She was feeling too much, all of it as surprising as it was wonderful.
She teetered on the edge of the delight she’d found before. Just then he raised his body from hers and lowered his trousers, exposing for the first time his large and threatening erection.
She glanced away swiftly, back to his face. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to rebuild the suddenly lessened magic. She held up her arms, wanting Damien and telling herself how much she loved him. As she tried to clutch him to her she found she couldn’t move. To her horror, Damien’s handsome face had disappeared.
Suddenly, the loving features above her changed completely, metamorphosing into the much-feared face of Baron Heath. Filled with lust and cruelty as he held her still with his ham-like hands and plunged into her virgin body with no preparation. Damien’s beloved features vanished and only the hated visage of the baron remained, looming over her like an incubus from hell.
She screamed in terror, trying frantically to throw the monster in her mind off her suddenly rigid body. She screamed and screamed.
Damien tried to hold her steady and soothe her. An utterly horrified Damien, unable to help his love when she most needed him. She was still screaming when a knock sounded on the door.
“Damien, are you all right in there?”
Damien rose from the bed, looking down at her and showing only pity on his face.
And regret. A regret he did not try to mitigate as he looked down on her. Curled into a sobbing bundle of remorse.
He hated lying to a friend but he would have to.
“I’m fine, Jason. Toria fell asleep in the chair waiting to talk to me and woke up with a nightmare when I came in. Go back to bed. I’ll take care of her. If anyone asks tell them everything is fine.”
There was a silence and then footsteps faded as Jason went back to his room.
Toria rolled over on her stomach, once more in the present and sobbing bitterly. Knowing it was Damien with her and always had been. Knowing she had spoiled everything. She’d wrecked her one chance with the man she loved.
How could she have ever committed such a horrible offense against Damien?
To them both? She’d ruined it all, everything he wanted and she knew he wanted.
How could she have done this horrible thing?
Chapter Thirteen
Damien cringed at her scream even as it clanged in his head.
Where had it all gone so wrong? At the very beginning perhaps, when he’d known full well he shouldn’t let her in. His furiously racing mind went over what had happened, trying to think what else he could have done.
He never should have let her inside his room. Yet, how could he have done differently? He certainly could never resist those big pleading eyes and her obvious distress. No, that was not the answer. In no way could he abandon her to her anguish.
Still, he should not have let her enter.
She’d wanted him. He knew this as surely as he knew he loved her and always would. Before he’d tried to enter her he’d known she felt true desire. Could he ever stir that desire again and even deeper? Enough to help overcome her fears and terror? To drive every memory of the baron from her mind?
He longed, not for the first time, to rout the baron out of his miserable lair and trounce him thoroughly before he killed him. He wasn’t sure such a deed would do anything but satisfy his desire for revenge. It wasn’t the way to win Toria. Now he wasn’t at all certain he’d ever truly possess her.
For the first time he forced himself to face the real possibility she might never be able to forget the horror of the assault still haunting her. Unless he could reach beyond her memories and somehow help her, he faced a desolate future indeed. There was no prospect for him except loneliness unless he figured out how to conquer her fear.
Right now he didn’t have the smallest idea.
He sat until dawn, going over what had happened and regretting he’d opened his door to her earlier. At least he didn’t have to worry about an erection for this one night. A grim thought, but that piercing scream had instantly returned his body to normal.
Was it time for him to bewitch her and teach her enough about the lasting love he felt for her that she might begin to forget? She was filled with passion, if he could only tap it. Yet he didn’t want her by magic. He’d made that decision over and over. He wanted her heart as well as her body. Well, hell, he craved her every thought. And he wanted her to be the strong person she’d be when she conquered her fears.
He just didn’t know how he’d win her. He’d always known she was his destiny but unless she accepted him of her own accord he might never find the future he’d envisioned with her.
He, who’d spent his whole life convinced he needed no help from anyone, suddenly didn’t know what to do to help himself. And no one could give him an answer. No one at all could help him.
He was definitely not as self-sufficient as he’d always arrogantly assumed. A most lowering thought for any mage.
* * * * *
When Toria came down to breakfast in the morning Jason looked at her swollen eyes and pale face but said nothing. Whatever happened, it had been much more than a nightmare. Then Damien appeared, looking as if he hadn’t slept at all.
Jason swallowed his questions as he drank his coffee. He’d like to offer his help to them both. He’d just embarrass Toria and he knew Damien considered himself entirely sufficient to handle any situation. Damien would never believe Jason thought his attitude a mistake. Any mortal man, even a powerful mage, could benefit from aid from true friends on occasion. Did Damien even know how to ask for help from his friends?
He looked at Damien, covering his concern as best he could.
“Shall I assist Rafe in getting ready to go? I assume you talked him into visiting Tregaron after all.”
Damien’s grim face never altered. He didn’t even look at Toria but instead rose from his full breakfast plate.
“Yes. I’m going to hire a horse to ride. It will be more comfortable if there are only two of you besides Rafe in the carriage, as he’ll need to lie down most of the way on one of the seats. Toria can sit by you. If you’d both pack I’ll be back and see you off.”
Toria had not looked up from her plate but she did so now, her eyes filled with sorrow. Then she looked down again. Tears glistened on her lashes and she also barely touched her food. That something dreadful had happened between Damien and Toria couldn’t be more apparent. Whatever made Toria scream last night had not been at all usual. Still friends didn’t grill friends and Jason excused himself to go see what he could do to help Rafe.
Damien paid the innkeeper and asked about a horse for hire. On hearing they had two available and although neither horse appealed to him, he rented the one who seemed stronger. A brute of a horse with probably little finesse in carrying a rider. The distance wasn’t far but he was afraid to try the smaller, more appealing mount. He was too big for an undersized horse. Assuring the innkeeper he’d send a groom back with the horse he went to the front of The Wicked Wench. He couldn’t summon even a grim smile at the thought he’d like his own beloved wench to be much more wicked. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to corrupt her.
* * * * *
Jason sat in the carriage on the way home to Tregaron, thinking with almost amusement it had to be the most silent ride he’d ever endured. Rafe refused any help and climbed into the carriage with white lips and a courage Jason thought stupid, even if admirable. Rafe sat rigidly for a while and then succumbed, leaning back against the pillows on his seat and turning his face away. He’d barely acknowledged his introduction to Toria. He seemed indifferent to any explanation of her presence, so Jason said nothing else.
Toria sat in silence, looking out the window the entire trip. Damien rode ahead of them on the rented horse one could hardly call a stallion. Still he managed to keep in front of the carriage and when the gates of Tregaron were sighted galloped on ahead.
An eager Debora awaited them. She came forward quickly and then stood to one side as Rafe climbed laboriously down, nodded to her without speaking and went into the house. As Stephens held the door open and welcomed him, Rafe nodded again.
“Good to see you, Stephens. Which is my room?”
There was no inflection in his tone and he shook off assistance and somehow managed to ascend the steps. Neither the footman who directed him nor his friends offered to help him again.
Debora’s stricken face told Jason everything he needed to know. He composed his features, gave her a brotherly kiss and stood back to watch Toria give Damien one anguished glance, greet Stephens and then follow Rafe up the stairs.
Jason’s heart shattered at the look on Debora’s face, although he’d long suspected where her interest lay. Still knowing for sure meant more pain than he’d expected. There was no reason now to delude himself. He managed a crooked grin at Damien. He must give serious thought to his future.
“I might as well disappear too, Damien. I think there will be little conversation this night.”
Damien’s look betrayed his understanding, although he grinned back at one of the two friends he loved. They couldn’t both have Debora but by Merlin he’d see Rafe came to his senses before he’d let him approach his sister.
What an unholy mess, with everyone in the household miserably unhappy. Although how he could improve matters he didn’t yet see.
He watched Jason also disappear upstairs and then walked slowly to his study. His main sanctuary if he couldn’t roam the grounds of Tregaron. After the journey home on that miserable beast, he had little appetite for riding right now. He’d best tell Stephens to arrange to return the poor brute before he himself disappeared for the evening. Oh yes and he’d have a small supper sent up to everyone else. He didn’t feel like eating anything at all.
He picked up the papers he’d left on his desk and looked with disinterest at his latest calculations. Would Toria ever want to help him again, or had she decided against even that little contact with him? It pleased him just to have her in the room even though it was painful. Walking to the window, he looked out on his beloved Tregaron, knowing without Toria as its mistress it would never fill his soul. His mind, perhaps and part of his heart, but that was not enough.
Chapter Fourteen
Toria kept mostly to her rooms for the next three days. Debora only appeared at meals, sitting silently through most of them. Rafe walked for hours, each day a little longer and then he too disappeared upstairs. Damien worked on his arm whenever he could catch him coming or going but Rafe said nothing except a curt thank-you. Jason alone seemed normal. Or almost normal. Damien understood the sadness in his eyes but unless Jase wanted to talk about it, he could say nothing.
The house almost rang with silence.
On the fourth day Jason came to him when Damien sat at his desk going over some ledgers.
“I’ve decided to make the rounds of your other estates, Damien. I want to assure myself everything is in shape before I leave England. I don’t know where I’m going but I’ll be traveling for a while. First I must make certain you’re in good hands.”
This was a Jason Damien did not often see. His normally humorous persona had disappeared and a tall, slender man with a shock of blond hair and serious hazel eyes stood in his place. One who was determined even though regretful.
Damien did not argue with what he knew Jason had firmly decided. Nor could he blame him. It must be strictly hell to see the woman he loved pining for another man. At least Toria hadn’t fallen in love with somebody else, although daily his doubts grew about the possibility of her loving him. And of his finding happiness with her at his side.
“Where will you go, Jason?”
Jason’s eyes cleared a bit when he realized Damien would not try to change his mind.
He sat down in a big armchair and shook his head.
“I’d tell you if I knew, Damien. Wherever my fancy takes me, I guess.”
“Can I help in any way, my good friend?”
Jason rose and paced in front of the desk, stopping in front of it and facing Damien.