Fairest Of Them All (25 page)

Wrapping a muscular arm around her waist, Aus-tyn drove her against the sill, parting her legs with the breadth of his hips. Cold raindrops pelted her back in stark contrast to the rigid heat pressed to the vulnerable hollow between her thighs. He tangled his free hand in her curls, bending her head back until his lips hovered above hers, a sigh away from possession. Each desperate catch of his breath throbbed in her ears.

If only he would kiss her, Holly thought frantically, she might be able to reach the man she had married.

“Why do you hesitate?” she whispered hoarsely. “Is it the curse you fear?”

“The curse has no power over me.”

“Why not?”

Holly’s world narrowed to the feral gleam of his eyes in the darkness, the note of savage despair in his voice. “Because I would have to love you first”

She knew then that he wasn’t going to kiss her. Knew it even as he wrapped an arm around her hips and lifted her to the bed. Knew it as he laid her beneath him on the plush sable, shoved up her chemise, baring her to the waist, and nudged her knees apart

She reached for him, desiring nothing more than to caress his bearded jaw, thread her fingers through his hair, wrap him in her embrace. But he caught both of her wrists in one hand, his grip a gentle manacle that sought not to bind her in cruelty, but to deprive him of a tenderness that might destroy them both. Shivering with reaction, Holly braced herself for the worst

Her entire body convulsed as if seared by lightning as one of his deft fingers parted the fleecy down between her thighs.

She turned her face to the pillow, aflame with shyness at his perverse gallantry. He might deny her the kisses and caresses of lovemaking, but he would not brutalize her. Broken gasps escaped from between her clenched teeth as he probed the tender cleft, his big, blunt finger burrowing deeper with each stroke, making her ready to receive him. Devastating tingles of pleasure spread from his touch. When his one finger was joined by another, she could not resist the foreign urge to arch against his hand.

Austyn knew he’d erred the instant his hand breached Holly’s silky nether curls. He’d had every intention of bedding her urgently and crudely, as if she were nothing more than a jaded harlot he had laid down his coin for, but the feel of her delicate body shivering beneath his own had stirred some lingering remnant of decency in his soul.

When his finger sought to prime her for his possession, he bit back a groan to discover the fragile cup of her womb already overflowed with nectar for him. Twas a bitter sweetness he had not entreated and did not deserve.

It tempted him to graze his thumb across the sensitive nub buried in her own sable pelt Tempted him to suckle her magnificent breasts through the gossamer sendal of the chemise until she writhed with pleasure beneath him. Tempted him to part the tender petals of her lips with his tongue. But how long would it be before that tongue betrayed him? Before he began to murmur hot, hoarse words against her mouth, the curve of her throat, the satiny cream of her belly? Words of tenderness. Words of love. Words of doom.

His reckless musings cost him dearly. Holly’s hand escaped his and twined around his nape, scorching him like a red-hot brand.

Ruthlessly quenching every longing but his most primal one, Austyn unfastened his hose, linked his fingers through hers and pressed her hands back on each side of her head.

Holly clung to Austyn’s strong hands, all she knew of substance in a shadowy universe of torrential rain, crashing thunder, and howling winds. When terror threatened to overwhelm her, she reminded herself that this was no stranger looming over her, but her Austyn—big and warm and smelling of mint and the musk of his need.

A flash of lightning illuminated the tower. Their gazes locked for a brief eternity, then he drove himself between her splayed legs with a guttural groan, cleaving the fragile barrier of her innocence.

Holly’s fingers arched along with her back as a bright lance of pain consumed her. Austyn’s hand could have ravished her for hours and not prepared her for this fulsome weight inside of her. He seemed overwhelming to her, so massive she did not know how her slight body could contain him. Yet somehow it did, adjusting magically to welcome the length and breadth of him into her melting core.

As the pain subsided, she squeezed his hands until their palms were mated as tightly as their bodies. He ground his hips against her own, wedging himself as deep in her throbbing sheath as she could take him, then withdrawing to do it again. His hands held her captive to his will while his body bludgeoned her with waves of dark pleasure until she could hardly recognize the sound of her own voice, entreating him with broken moans and hoarse whimpers for some shimmering reprieve he alone could deliver.

His only reply other than the harsh rasp of his breathing was to double the intensity and rhythm of bis earthy siege. She gasped with pure delight as every muscle of his powerful body went as rigid as the part of him buried to the hilt in her. Lightning sizzled through the tower, gifting her with a glimpse of the savage beauty of his features as he threw back his head in exultation, breaking his silence at last to roar her name in an incantation of pure ecstasy.

He collapsed against her, burying his face against her throat Holly slipped her hand from beneath his limp one, thinking only to curl her fingers in the damp silk of his hair. He rolled off of her with nary a word, adjusted his hose, and went striding from the tower as if a legion of demons nipped at his heels.

Holly lay there in the dark with her bare legs sprawled apart, her chemise crumpled around her waist, her tender body still overflowing with the scalding bounty of her husband’s seed and murmured, “Oh, my.”

Austyn’s steps grew heavy as he descended the winding stairs to the great haB. The cavernous chamber was deserted, the dying embers of the fire in the central hearth its only light A tankard of ale and an abandoned goblet sat on the table. The storm’s threat had subsided to a distant rumble of thunder and the muted patter of rain on the battlements.

At the discordant strum of fingers against lute strings, Austyn nearly jumped out of his skin.

“What ails you, man? Guilty conscience?”

Austyn scowled into the shadows fringing the hall, finally making out the luster of Carey’s fair hair. “ Tis fortunate I’m unarmed. I might have mistaken you for a Viking raider and whacked off your pretty head.”

Carey plucked a few saucy notes in reply, then tilted his head to study him. “That didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would.”

For a searing moment, Austyn hated his friend for knowing him so well. It took little more than his heightened color to betray him to Carey. He strode over to the table, poured a strong splash of ale in the goblet and drank it down in one swallow. “I didn’t rape her, if that*s what you’re thinking.”

“Would I imply such? I have no doubt that she simply succumbed to your gallant charms. What did you do? Growl some poetry at her?”

Austyn clenched his teeth to suppress a growl. “There is no need of such nonsense between us. She is my wife. I had every right to determine if she had lain with another man before me.”

Carey’s tone was as light as his fingers dancing over the strings. “And had she?”

“No,” Austyn replied, despising his own sullen tone.

“But that didn’t stop you, did it?”

Nor could Austyn stop himself from reliving that moment when he’d primed himself with Holly’s copious balm and breached the taut cocoon of her body. She’d fit him like a silken gauntlet Even as guilt assailed him at the memory of her muffled whimper, his insatiable body stirred to life.

He slammed the goblet on the table, paying it no heed when it overturned. “What would you have had me do? Withdraw and apologize? Say ‘Forgive me, my lady, for piercing your maidenhead. I can promise you ‘twill never happen again.’” He paced over to the stairs, sank down on the lowest step, and rested his aching head in his hands. “God forgive me, Carey, I used her like a common whore,” he confessed hoarsely. “I kissed neither her lips nor her breasts. I offered her not a word of kindness or solace. I swear I did not deliberately seek to hurt her. I left no bruises to mar her beautiful skin.” He raked his fingers through his hair, lifting his despairing gaze to Carey’s face. “At least none you can see.”

Carey only strummed a thoughtful chord.

Austyn shook his head. “I had such tender courtesies plotted for my wife’s seduction before I discovered her treachery. Scented tapers and spiced wine. Gentle kisses and honeyed words. Yet I offered her none of those tonight”

The lute fell silent “And she accepted your brutish attentions with open . . . um, arms?”

Austyn nodded.

“Then perhaps you should ask yourself why.”

As Carey rose and strolled from the hall, his fingers plucking a pensive melody, Austyn stared into the glowing embers on the hearth. He had bedded Holly without grace or tenderness, fearing that if he allowed his hands to explore the extravagant curves of her breasts or given his thirsty lips leave to sip the honeyed nectar of her mouth, his soul would be eternally lost.

Yet as he buried his face in hands still scented with the wedded spices of musk and myrrh, he felt more damned than ever before.

Holly was drowsing in the sunshine of the window seat the following morning when she saw the donkey appear in the distance. She had slept late, overcome with a delicious languor that had yet to subside. As she recognized the robed figure astride the donkey, she sat up on her knees, wincing as her tender muscles twinged in protest.

Even from her dizzying perch, the dejected slump of the rider’s shoulders was evident Nathanael must know what his freedom had cost her. Even if Austyn hadn’t been so vindictive as to enlighten him, the priest was bright enough to realize that if her husband still harbored the faintest suspicion that he’d been her lover, he would have been carried away from Caer Gavenmore on a burial litter, not a donkey.

As she watched, he slowed the animal and glanced back over his shoulder.

She lifted her hand in a farewell salute, murmuring, “God go with you, brother.”

Nathanael did not return her wave, but stared up at the tower for a long time before plodding on. Troubled by mingled affection and regret, Holly watched him fade to a tiny speck on a vast canvas of moor and mountains still damp from last nighf s storm.

“Austyn should never have sent him alone,” she muttered to herself. “The man has a wretched sense of direction. Hell probably ride straight into the sea or incite some hot-headed Scot to martyr him.”

She had little time to fret over Nathanael’s fate for the dull clatter of the bolt being lifted warned her invasion was imminent She lifted her chin, unable to stifle the expectant flutter of the pulse in her throat.

Twas not her husband, but Winifred and a flock of tittering maidservants who entered, each one of them bearing an urn of steaming water. Winnie kept her head bowed, more reticent even than before, but Holly noted that poppies once again blossomed in her cheeks. Her mouth was compressed to a stiff line, as if she might burst into giggles herself at the slightest provocation.

Her darting gaze managed to ricochet off everything in the tower except Holly’s face and the bed. “The master thought you might enjoy a hot bath this morning.” She nodded down at the crisp bundle in her arms. “And some fresh sheets.”

The girls ceased pouring water into the tub long enough to nudge each other and steal sly glances at the rumpled bed. Winnie gave the one nearest to her a warning swat to her generous backside.

Holly stood to greet them, inclining her head as if her chemise was a mantle of ermine and her disheveled curls a crown. If they thought she was going to blush and stammer with shame over the long overdue consummation of her marriage, they were sorely mistaken.

However, she could not quite banish the note of irony that crept into her voice. “How very considerate of him. Do convey my most humble gratitude for his largesse.”

“He thought ye might enjoy a bit o’ my company as well, my lady.”

At the familiar croak, a warm rush of tears blurred Holly’s vision. Elspeth emerged from behind Winnie, her wizened little hobgoblin face one of the dearest sights Holly had ever seen. As the nurse scampered into Holly’s arms, sobbing joyfully, Winnie and her disciples tactfully withdrew. The hollow thump of the bolt falling into place jarred Holly and Elspeth from their tender reunion, reminding them that Elspeth now shared her mistress’s captivity.

Elspeth blotted Holly’s cheeks with a license born of long habit before wiping her own eyes. “Oh, my lady, ye cannot know how afrighted I was for ye. With Sir Austyn stalking “bout the castle like a madman, ne’er sleeping nor eating for days at a time. All of us tiptoeing ‘round him, a-whispering ‘neath our breaths, lest he turn his temper on us. When he came for ye last night, I thought to stop him, I vow I did. I would have thrown myself on his blade if need be, but Master Carey clapped a hand over my mouth and held it there until ‘twas too late.”

Holly narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. It seemed Nathanael had not been her sole champion at Caer Gavenmore. Even Winnie had appeared secretly pleased that their union had been consummated. Perhaps the woman had not yet given up hope that Holly might be her master’s salvation.

Elspeth shot the decadent disarray of the bed a wide-eyed glance. A shudder rocked her bony shoulders. “Oh, child, was he a terrible beast to you?”

Holly hoped her impish smile would quiet her nurse’s fears. “Quite ferocious. But most bears are when they’ve been cornered in their own dens.” She drew herself from Elspeth’s embrace and wandered to the tub, leaning over to trail her fingers in the steaming water. “I’d almost dare to venture my beast is suffering rather human qualms of remorse this morn. He frees Nathanael. Sends you to nurse my wounded feelings. Provides a luxurious bath to soothe my … um … spirits.” Holly turned to the bed, beset by misty images of the wondrous act that had taken place there in the darkness. A tingling ribbon of delight curled through her belly. “And clean sheets so that I might whisk away all memory of his debauchery.”