Impending Reprisals (8 page)

Chapter 11

Merivic and two other soldiers swept the flap aside and stepped into the tent. The soldiers took their position on either side of the entryway while Merivic strode ahead to the closed curtain—a makeshift shroud of privacy for the beautiful woman within.

“Anya?”

“Yes. Please, come in.”

He split the opening with his arm and held it to the side before letting the partition close behind him. Anya was standing at a large chest, digging around in the contents. She was wearing a black silky robe, tied tight at the waist. 

“I was just looking for some traveling clothes for tomorrow.”

“I have seen to that, and will have the garments ready when you awaken. I believe all the clothing within that chest are dresses, gowns, and…um…undergarments.”

Anya turned toward his slightly abashed tone and smiled at his discomfort. For as strong and unyielding as his presence was, he could equally be so soft and disarming. “Yes, this is where I found my sleeping attire.” She ran her hand down her hip as she smoothed out the material. “It is quite comfortable. Thank you.”

“I left it to the seamstress’ discretion as to what she made for you. Although, I must agree, she has done a fine job.”

Anya considered what he had said for a moment. “When did you employ a seamstress? It takes quite some time to make an entire wardrobe.”

Merivic worried his neck as he replied. “When you agreed to let me call on you.”

“Rather confident, are you not?” Her tone was tight with a controlled annoyance.

“No. Merely hopeful.” He flashed a brilliant smile at her and winked, making her knees go weak.

She snickered at her own reaction and looked to the thick mattress placed directly on the ground. Her ensuing thought brought a flutter to her belly. “Are you staying the night with me?”

“What?” His eyes widened as he shook his head. “No. It would be inappropriate for me to do so. I simply came to bid you good night.”

Anya hitched her arm on her hip as she studied him. And then—feeling a sudden surge of courage—tugged the tied belt at her waist, allowing her robe to fall open. The fast flash of cleavage exposed by her skimpy, black nightgown had Merivic quickly turning to ensure her privacy. Nevertheless, she still saw the clench of his jaw, betraying the depth of his need.

Anya grinned at his back as she pulled off the robe and folded it on top of the chest.

“We are to be married, yes?”

“We are.”

“Then why do you turn away from me? And what, exactly, would be inappropriate about spending time with the woman you are to wed?”

Anya stepped toward him, the delicate material of her nightgown clinging to her form before flaring out over hips and thighs.

“I, um…” He trailed off when Anya’s hands landed on his hips, only to then snake their way up his chest, tucking herself tight against his back.

He growled in longing when she pressed her lips against his neck, and before she could register the movement, he spun about and wrapped his arms around her frame, drawing her into a deep, passionate kiss.

Anya clung to him, eager for the contact after feeling so isolated all day, arching her body against his. Her stomach was a tumble of nerves and she felt as if she was about to jump out of her skin, but he felt right under her hands. She wanted nothing more than to become lost in him, and savor the warmth of his touch.

Merivic’s response was immediate and it nearly overtook his better judgment as he swept Anya off her feet and into his arms. His mouth traveled down her neck to nip and tempt as he walked to the bed, then slowly eased her onto it.

A quiet moan from Anya shattered Merivic’s will to break away as she nestled into the mattress, and he found himself stretching out on top of her, his tongue trailing her collar bone. He ran his hands down her sides, grazing the sides of her breasts, and Anya gasped from the brief contact. In that single sound of breathlessness, he felt a power swell within him as he thought of what physical pleasures he could provide for her in their life together—intimate experiences she had not yet had with another. He absolutely loved her innocence and inexperience, and felt proud and empowered that he would be the one guiding her to those discoveries.

But not tonight.

He allowed himself a few more moments of pleasure—nestled in the crook of her neck, feeling her pulse hammering under his lips—before he made the valiant effort to break away from the smoldering woman.

Anya scowled and moaned in protest as Merivic eased back and pulled the thick blanket over her scantily-clad body. “Why will you not stay with me?”

“Perhaps it is because the temptation would be too great.” He donned an easy smile before kissing her forehead. “And I would feel better if I were out there on watch myself.”

“I believe your men are more than capable of securing the area without you.”

“As do I, or they would not be a part of my infantry. However, peace of mind goes a long way. And to attain that, I must be among them.”

“Will you stay awhile? At least until I fall asleep?” She snuggled into the blanket and looked up at him with a slight pout and wide emerald eyes.

Merivic chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. “Can I deny you nothing?”

“I would like to see you try,” Anya murmured, playfully, as she tucked her head under his chin, curling into his broad chest.

“That sounds like a challenge, Miss Anya,” Merivic stated lightly, running his fingers through her thick, shiny hair.

“Quite possibly it is, Lord Merivic. Do you think you are up to it?”

He snickered as he drew her closer. “No, honestly I do not think I am. But it may be fun to try.”

Anya giggled as she fisted her hand in his shirt to hold him still, then arched her neck until her mouth met his throat. She worked her tongue over his salty skin, grazing her teeth along the way. “Try to deny me this,” she dared, hoping to provoke the primal urges he had strapped down within.

“Anya, you must not push me so.” His voice was strained as he began to pull away.

“All right, I will stop.” Anya did not want him to leave her, so she mentally vowed to behave…for now. She heaved a heavy sigh.

“Please, do not be frustrated with me. Do you not realize how much I want you? But I fear I will not be able to stop once I start, and I will not have you until we are properly wed.”

“I understand,” she grumbled, her eagerness to explore her inclinations plummeting down to the pit of her stomach.

Merivic issued a husky chuckle. “Soon, my dear, sweet Anya. You must let me build up to it—a tolerance, if you will. For as of now, even the thought of your touch forces me to the edge. It takes all I have not to ravage and plunder, to take what I desire most.”

“With talk like that, you are not doing much for my self-control either.”

“Perhaps I wish you to suffer as I am.”

She giggled at his admission, a tingle prickling her skin. It was nearly just as exciting to know how much he wanted her as to physically feel it for herself. The anticipation of having this man as her own was that strong. “I am sure
suffer
is an exaggeration.” Although, inwardly, she admitted it was a painfully accurate description—for herself, anyhow.

“You sound as if you could truly doubt me.” He shook his head. “You will see.”

It almost sounded like a warning and a wistful shiver racked her frame. Merivic misinterpreted the cause, and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Anya cuddled in, content to abandon the conversation until another time when he might be more willing to ‘discuss’ it further.

“We should arrive in Silktree tomorrow. And we shall trade up for fresh horses, and procure lodgings for the night.” His arms constricted. “You will have a chance to bathe properly, and sleep in an actual bed. I apologize for these meager accommodations, but I attempted to make them as comfortable as possible for you.”

“This is fine. Really. How long will we stay in…Silktree, was it?” Anya felt a thrill with the idea of visiting a new city, of seeing and exploring someplace different. She had never left Liberwood before, and she was eager to embrace the adventures her new life promised.

“Just the night. Long enough to see to our needs.”

“Could we stay longer?”

“I must regretfully deny you, my love. The open road is not safe for us. The faster we arrive in Decessus, the better it will be.”

His words washed through her before the meaning truly sank in. Even now, as they lay together on this bed, snuggled in each other’s arms, they were in danger. There were men out there to protect them, but still, there was danger. “The threats in your life…they are real. At any moment…” She swallowed the rest of her words, refusing to even entertain the thought of what could be.

“I do not want you to worry, Anya. I have taken every precaution to protect not only myself, but you as well.”

Yes, she pondered, me as well, because I am to be his wife—an integral part of his ascension to the throne. In essence, my presence puts him in position to rule the kingdom. Therefore, my presence puts him in danger, for if I had not agreed to marry Merivic, he would not be able to take the crown, and he would not be a target for the assassins.

It was a daunting thought, full of speculation and doubt. “Why did you not tell me—”

“I would never allow anyone to harm you. I—”

“No. I do not fear for my safety. Why did you not tell me you had to be married to claim the throne?”

His lips pressed into her hair before he answered. “I did not want my situation to be a consideration when you made your choice. This was for you to decide—for your life, not for mine.”

She smiled at his selfless words, and caressed his cheek. She stared long and hard into his soft, hazel eyes, then drew him close to brush her lips against his.

In this moment, he was perfect for her—a gentlemen who thought of her heart above all else, a warrior who thought of her safety above all else, and a man who thought of her virtue above all else.

Anya knew, positively, she would grow to love him indeed. That is, if she was not yet there already.

Chapter 12

The following day was long, but uneventful. Anya spent part of the journey walking and part of it riding a horse, but all of it while keeping a watchful eye on Merivic.

His commanding presence often surprised her for she had grown accustomed to his tender and gentle nature. But as he was directing his men and assessing their surroundings, she found him to be absolutely captivating. Never once did he rest, though he made groups of men do so at regular intervals—switching places with those at rest in the wagons. And never once did he show signs of fatigue, his alert eyes always shifting and his sharp ears tuning into every foreign sound.

Merivic almost appeared to be preternatural in nature, to be so thoroughly focused on so many aspects at once…including her. No matter if she fell behind, switched to a horse, or strode ahead, his eyes honed in on her whenever he felt the need—he was always aware of her exact placement. It was both awe-inspiring and comforting to her.

Near daybreak, they approached the great stone walls of Silktree. Merivic signaled four men to flank Anya as he moved ahead with a contingency of his own to discuss entry with the city’s gatekeepers.

Anya knew their entry would not be a concern. Merivic had already informed her that Silktree was an established ally of Decessus, or more importantly, of Merivic’s. After a brief exchange, the guards opened the gates and waved the caravan forward.

Merivic returned to his station near her, but not with her, as they traveled through the city, using side streets through a lightly populated area. Anya was disappointed, hoping to at least view the grand city as they traversed it to their lodgings. But as it was, all she witnessed were empty halls, empty alleyways, and an occasional homestead—though all occupants remained within.

As they approached the west end of the walled settlement, they came upon a small manor with a uniformed man standing at the door. Merivic strode up with a smile, and clapped the man on the back as he greeted him. Anya was too far away to hear what they were saying, but their jovial expressions showed her they were acquaintances, if not friends.

Merivic turned toward Anya and waved her forward, meeting her halfway to take her arm.

“I would like you to meet a friend of mine,” he explained, leading her to the expectant man.

“Drak, this is my Anya.” Merivic’s voice was full of pride, flattering Anya beyond what she thought was possible. But it also embarrassed her just a little for she was never comfortable with being the center of attention.

“Such a beauty indeed.” The blond-haired man took her hand and kissed her knuckle, his short beard and mustache scraping against her skin as he did. “You are a lucky man, Merivic.” Drak’s eyes squinted with his genuine smile.

Anya blushed and smiled cordially, averting her gaze.

“You may release her hand now, Drak.” Merivic commented.

“Hmm? Oh, yes!” He dropped her hand at once, and Anya placed it on Merivic’s arm. “My apologies, My Lord. I was stunned for a moment.” He winked at Anya and turned to Merivic. “Silktree Manor is yours to use for however long you wish.”

“We shall only be staying the night. I assume there is a full staff?”

“Of course, and already instructed to do your bidding.”

“Thank you, Drak.” Merivic clasped a hand on his shoulder.

“You are welcome, my friend.” He nodded to them before backing away a step, and turning to take his leave.

Merivic leaned toward Anya. “I do apologize for his conduct. Drak always did manage to forget his manners around a beautiful woman.”

Anya giggled. “Oh, stop. I cannot bear it from you, too.”

He kissed the side of her head. “You will simply have to get used to being named as beautiful, for the day will never arrive when I do not think it every time I glance in your direction.”

Her face warmed again as he led her into the entrance hall where they were greeted by a line of servants.

“Lord Merivic,” the closest attendant—a sturdy older woman—stated with a bow. “So good to have you stay with us again, My Lord.”

“Thank you, Rya. It is certainly good to be back.” He turned to Anya as he eased her forward. “May I present Lady Anya, my future wife.”

Rya’s face lifted into a smile. “Lady Anya,” she nodded, respectfully. “It is an honor indeed. Might I show you to your quarters so you may wash up before dinner?”

Anya glanced to Merivic.

“Absolutely. Please, Rya, see she has everything she needs. I will have her baggage brought up at once.”

“As you wish, My Lord. The cook is awaiting your choices for the meal.” She looked pointedly at the tall, older man next in line. “Come, Lady Anya. Let me show you the way.”

*****

Anya’s skin smelled of flowers, and her hair the scent of fruit. She had been shocked by the vast array of bathing soaps and could not decide for herself which smelled better. Finally, Rya had to choose for her, or she would have certainly been late to dinner.

Anya fussed over her gown as she followed Rya down to the first floor.

“Do stop fidgeting, Lady Anya. You look lovely.”

“Thank you, Rya. I appreciate that.”

Anya stopped at the foot of the stairs and glanced around to ensure they were alone before quickly smoothing a hand over the low, sweeping neckline. She was sure she would eventually get used to the flattering cut of her various gowns. Especially since she knew how much it pleased Merivic to see her dressed as such, which in turn, pleased her to no end.

“Lord Merivic is awaiting you in the dining hall. This way, please.”

Rya led her down a long hallway and eased open the door at the end, gesturing Anya inside before closing it behind her. The flickering light of the candles frolicked around the room and lit up the table in a dazzling display. She had never witnessed such a gorgeous setting for a meal; twinkling crystal glasses, shiny porcelain plates, and the candles…so many candles!

“Anya.”

She turned and saw Merivic standing by the window, holding a snifter of brandy, and looking at her with an amused expression.

“It is so beautiful,” she gushed, unable to resist the urge to glance at the table once again as she stepped toward him.

Merivic watched as she turned her head, drawing his attention to her long, graceful neck leading to the gentle slope of her collarbone. His chest tightened as his gaze continued to drag down over every curve, wrapped in a flowing golden-yellow gown. The hue of the dress seemed to glow as the satin fabric hugged her bodice, and the contrast against her bronzed skin was startling. 

“No, Anya.
You
are beautiful.” He encircled an arm around her waist, pulling her close for a soft kiss. “Please. Have a seat. Dinner awaits you.”

The simple meal was a delight to Anya—roast and potatoes, comfort food Merivic knew she would enjoy. They kept the dinner conversation light, and it mainly consisted of Merivic telling colorful tales of his previous trips to Silktree. And they continued their discussion long after the dishes had been cleared away, and their wine glasses refilled.

Anya was taking a sip of her wine when Merivic stood and held his hand out to her. “Dance with me.”

She set her glass down and leaned her head to the side. “But there is no music.”

“No, not in the traditional sense.” Merivic took Anya’s hand and pulled her to her feet, drawing her away from the table. “But you have to use this,” —he placed his hand over her heart—“and this,” he concluded, kissing her forehead. 

Anya melted inside as she leaned into him, and they began to dance. It was not the flowing style of a ballroom dance, but one that spoke of tenderness, love and intimacy—two people moving as one in a swaying embrace, cheek-to-cheek, heart-to-heart.

“I love you, Anya, with everything I am. You cannot imagine how happy you make me,” Merivic whispered, his mouth close to her ear.

Anya wanted to return the sentiment, it felt like the right thing to do, but she wanted to be true to him, and to herself.

She tensed slightly with her indecision.

“It is all right if you cannot say the words,” Merivic murmured, sensing her distress. “I know you care deeply for me, and are happy by my side. And that, I am sure, you would readily agree to.”

She nodded as he pulled back a measure, cradled her face, and locked his eyes on hers.

“But even if you cannot say it aloud, I can see the love you have for me. You show it in your actions and reactions—to me, to my touch.” He swept his lips against hers. “My presence soothes your mind, my touch quickens your heart. And when you look at me as you are now, your breath thickens and becomes shallow. That is love, my precious Anya, or at the very least, the inception of it.”

Overwhelmed by his words, and rendered speechless, Anya ran her hands across his shoulders and drew him into a kiss. There was no gentle introduction to this kiss, no tender brushing of their lips, no testing slides of their tongues. It was a flash of passion and a burst of hunger laced with barely-restrained urges—all of it immediate and all of it consuming as their eager mouths fused together.

Anya banded her arms around him as he shifted, his hot breath washing over her neck, and his tongue teasing a trail down its length. She moaned from the contact as he ignited fires hidden within—her inexperience heightening the sensation.

Merivic held tight, his lips pressing harder, her sounds of approval driving him deeper into his urges. “Your innocence only proves to feed my hungers for you, Anya,” he murmured as he lit a trail across her collarbone. “Such pleasures I wish to give you, for you to experience for the first time under my hands, my mouth.”

Anya gasped, then quivered with desire. “But you said we cannot—”

“I do not speak of making love with you. There are other pleasures to be had.” Merivic moved down, cradling her back as his tongue skimmed across the top of her breasts, darting into her cleavage.

She held her breath and froze in every way possible—her body, her mind, even her heart.

Merivic sobered immediately from Anya’s response and slowly drew away from her. “I fear I have crossed the line.” He caressed her shoulders, and ran his hands down her arms to grasp her fingers. “I apologize. I will never again do more than what you are ready for. You alone will set the pace.” He brought her fingers to his lips. “When you want more, I will give you more. When you want less, I will adjust to suit your needs.”

Anya stared at him with wondrously large eyes, and she stepped closer, their hands clasped between them. “I want more.”

Merivic stared hard, his questioning hazel eyes seeking answers in hers. He pulled her body tight against his as he whispered in a husky tone, “Then you shall have it.”