Lord of Vengeance (20 page)

“And do you?” He rose from the bed, his expression questioning, searching. “Do you know me?” He moved closer to her but Raina held her ground, lifting her chin.

“More than I care to know, aye.”

He reached out to toy with an errant lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Then pray tell, lamb, what do you know of me?”

Raina pulled the strand from his grasp and drew herself up to her full height, refusing to wilt under his attempt to unnerve her. “I know that you are the type of man who bullies women and children and old men. The type of man who takes pleasure in lording over those weaker than him.” She gave a flippant toss of her head, emboldened by the sudden tension now visible in the set of his jaw. She pressed on, seeking to wound him. “In my mind that brands you a coward and unworthy of honor.”

He seized her by the arms, bringing her near enough that she could feel his breath stir the fine wisps of hair at her forehead. “Then you must also see me as the type of man to take my pleasure where I will, do you not?” He looked long and hard into her eyes...then he scoffed. “God's truth, you make me wish I were.”

He released her as if he wished he could thrust her from his very sight. Instead, he reached out and merely stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

Raina flinched, more from the pure shock of feeling him touch her so softly than from the idea that he touched her at all. His hand lingered against her face, his fingers so hard and full of strength, yet gentle enough to wring a sigh from her lips. His mouth twitched nearly imperceptibly at her unwilling response; his gaze dropped to her parted lips.

He wanted to kiss her, that much she knew, and in that same instant Raina found herself wishing he would. She tried to conceal her longing, to quell it with the knowledge of what kissing him would mean. Betrayal. Not only to herself but to her father. Shame engulfed her, for she doubted even that could keep her foolish heart from wishing, from wanting.

He tipped her chin up on the edge of his fist and looked into her eyes, searching and surely, easily, finding her desire for him. The shadow of a smile softened his mouth as his head dipped down slowly, his eyes smoldering and heavy-lidded. Raina drew in her breath as he descended on her mouth, brushing his lips so painfully soft against hers.

It was his tenderness that so unnerved her, for she might have expected him to plunder her senses and her body as well, but here he was, testing, not taking, and it nearly made her weep. How could this steely warrior, who professed his lack of heart with such pride, be so tender?

The answer came swiftly.

Because he was skilled at bending people to his will. Those soulful eyes had stripped her of her secrets and he knew them one and all. He sensed her weakness and as sure as he was standing before her, coaxing her with tender kisses, he would use it against her.

Cursing her own naivete, Raina shrank away until she felt the window ledge at her back. He looked puzzled, frowning at her sudden flight and questioning with his eyes her apparent change of heart.

“I can't do this,” she whispered, surprised she had enough strength of will to form the denial in her head, let alone voice it to him. “I-I don't want you...I don't want you near me,” she said, stumbling over the lie.

He saw through her even still. “After last eve? I don't believe you.” He reached out to her.

Raina flattened herself against the cool stone wall. “Stay away from me, please.”

But Rutledge advanced. Two steps and his chest was nearly touching hers. “Why should I?” he questioned, his tone playful, but the glimmer in his eye too hungry to be harmless.

Raina broke his gaze, turning her head to look askance. “Because, I--”

He caught her chin and brought her back to face him, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Why?”

“B-because,” she stammered, searching her brain for a reason and shocked that she could find none. At her hesitation, he dipped his face to her neck, nipping and teasing the soft skin below her ear. “Oh, mercy,” she breathed as he captured her earlobe between his teeth. His breath came fast and hard in her ear, filled with want. She shuddered. “Please,” she hissed, “don't...”

She pressed her hands against his chest to push him away and felt his heartbeat, thudding beneath her fingertips as strong and sure as her own. Heaven help her, but she thrilled at the feel of his hard muscle under her palms. More than anything, she wanted to feel his hands on her, as well.

The reasons why he should not were many, each one more treacherous than the next, but perhaps the most perilous of all was the one that whispered of the greatest pleasure.

Because she might be tempted to love him.

“Tell me why I shouldn't touch you.” From the seductive tone of his voice, Raina knew he understood her indecision, her lack of mettle. A moment longer in his embrace and she would be lost....

Her answer, though feeble, came blurting out in a rush. “Because you stink of wine and horseflesh!”

In truth, he didn't smell as bad as she would have him believe, but she felt wounding his pride a likely means as any of dissuading his attentions. He needn't know that she found him, and his wholly masculine scent, a troubling distraction and longed to be away from his vexing presence.

He appeared thoroughly taken aback and he laughed, though his brows crashed into an affronted scowl. Raina didn't dare flinch, maintaining her rigid stance and even squaring her shoulders. Rutledge's expression swiftly changed to one of defensive coolness, not quite masking his injured masculine vanity. He lifted his arm and sniffed at himself with what was certainly deliberate crudeness. “Forgive me,
my lady
,” he replied, with an almost convincingly apologetic tone, “but it seems you are right. And I have forgotten my breeding. What manner of rudeness not to offer my lovely
guest
a much needed bath?” That dazzling, ruthless grin was back in full force and Raina knew she had ventured into deep waters.

It was her only warning. He swept her into his arms and headed for the chamber door, ignoring her demands that he put her down and undaunted by her efforts to squirm out of his hold. She was able to make opening the door a difficult task, but it only served to frustrate him and in the end delayed him but a moment.

“What are you doing?” Raina cried as he carried her swiftly through the corridor and down the stairwell. She cursed him--loudly--when he refused to answer her and as he hustled past the hall, she cringed in outrage to see the numerous sleep-wrinkled faces blinking at her in disbelief.

In the next moment he was crossing the length of the bailey, headed for the portcullis. Was he turning her out of the keep? Had she irritated him so much that he no longer wished to be burdened with her?

The idea should have elated her, but instead she found she was disappointed that he would give up so easily.

As they approached the iron gate, he called for the guards to open it. They shot perplexed looks at him, but obliged without a word. Rutledge slipped out as soon as space enough permitted the both of them to clear the gate.

Raina waited for him to set her on her feet and slam the gate behind her, but he kept walking. “Where are you taking me?”

“You're going to take a bath, milady,” he said, not even huffing from the trek. “And so am I. A very cold one. Mayhap it will shock some sense into me.”

“I am
not
going to bathe with you,” she gasped, terrified at the prospect.

He didn't bother to reply, merely headed purposefully in the direction of the pond. At their approach, a heron took flight from the reedy perimeter of the water. A hazy mist floated above the moist ground and at the fringes of the placid surface. Raina shivered just looking at it.

He tromped down the bank and into the pond, stopping when the water reached his knees. “Perhaps 'twill also cool my lady's hot head.”

With that, he tossed her into the air.

Raina experienced but a moment of disbelief before she hit the water with a loud clap, rump-first. Waves of cold, murky water splashed over her head as she descended like a stone below the surface. She gasped at the chill, drawing in a mouthful of water as she did. Her feet touched the velvety silt that blanketed the pond floor and she vaulted up and out of the water, coughing and sputtering while she tried to wipe the hair from her eyes. Her composure somewhat restored, Raina summoned breath enough to hurl a flurry of curses at him that doubtless would have crossed her father's eyes to hear upon her lips.

Rutledge merely chuckled where he stood, several feet away.

“You--bastard!” she croaked, standing waist-high in the water, peeling slimy weeds from her gown and hair. Her skirts floated up in a wide circle around her, exposing her legs to the chill water. A queer tickling sensation at her knees drew her attention away from Rutledge for a moment.

Like little kisses, something pecked at first one knee, then the other. She felt a quick brush against her thigh and gave a little hop, peering into the water. A small fish darted out from under her billowing gown, followed by another. Raina screamed, jumping backwards and shoving at her skirts, trying to keep them down about her legs.

Rutledge evidently found her struggles highly amusing, for he crossed his arms over his chest and laughed deeply. She didn't find the situation--or him--the least bit funny. Raking her arm over the pond's surface, she swiped a wave of water at him. “Detestable, overbearing boor!”

His laughter died abruptly as the splash soaked his head and shoulders. Satisfied, Raina turned to swim a safer distance from him, should he think to retaliate. When she spun about to gauge his reaction, her heart slammed into her ribs.

With his eyes trained on her, and water dripping from his hair and nose, Rutledge waded farther into the water.

He pulled off his tunic.

“Don't you dare think to bathe while I'm in here!” But Rutledge only grinned, then flung his discarded tunic to the shore without a backward glance. “Oh, sweet Mary,” she whispered on an intake of breath.

What an awesome vision he was, striding toward her bare-chested. A dark mat of hair covered his chest, but did little to conceal the sculpted power of his torso, the rigid planes of his abdomen. His skin had been kissed bronze by time in the sun, his arms thick with sinew, honed from years of battle and physical toil. Gaping at him as she was now, Raina could think of only one word to describe his ruggedly masculine appeal.

Magnificent.

A queer shiver wormed its way through her body and set her teeth to chattering. The water no longer felt cold, but rather warm...alive...and she knew it had everything to do with the sight of him.

“Come no further,” she pleaded, knowing he would ignore her.

When the water reached his waist he unfastened the ties of his braies and bent to step out of them. He drew them out of the water, wadding them into a ball that he then pitched casually over his shoulder. The knowledge that he was now naked sent a tumultuous shiver down Raina's spine.

Good lord, what had she gotten herself into?

“Stay where you are!”

He ignored her plea, ducking down to his shoulders in the water to swim slowly toward her. Silently, stealthily, he drifted closer.

Raina took a step backward, then another. Still, he advanced. A wickedly mischievous grin tugged at his lips the instant before he disappeared under the pond's rippling surface.

Mercy, he was coming for her.
Raina shrieked, then turned to swim away from him, paddling and kicking frantically against the weight of her bliaut.

A moment later his warm hand closed about her ankle, halting her flight and easily pulling her back. She twisted and turned in his grasp, trying to writhe free. Her attempts were at best futile, and judging from the look on his face, served only to amuse him. “Let go,” she sputtered as her face dipped below the water.

He obliged, but caught her by the waist and pulled her to him. He held her close, just looking at her, as their legs entwined beneath the water. Raina blinked at him, her heart fluttering into her throat, scandalized at the feel of his thigh between her knees. For a long, wondrous moment, they gazed at each other in silent appraisal.

In his eyes, Raina saw a man...not the soulless blackguard she so desperately needed to believe he was, but a living, breathing--and oh, so dangerously arousing--man.

He curled his arm tighter about her waist, bringing her closer. The water, made warm from the heat generated between them, lapped sensuously about their shoulders. Raina squeezed her eyes closed as her breasts pressed against his bare skin. Even through the fabric of her gown she could feel the hard ridges and planes of his chest.