Strangclyf Secret (21 page)

Bernon glanced down at the
long fat braid of gold draped over his shoulder and across his
chest sash style. Though it bore the dirt of war, her hair had
retained its silky texture and kept him company throughout the
invasion and subsequent battles. He removed the braid with care and
held it toward her. “Be gentle with this,
ma belle.
‘Tis the most generous
token I ever received and I place high value on it.”

“
Why?” she asked in a shaky
voice, not looking at him as she accepted the braid.

“
Because the one who gave
it to me considered it her best feature. By parting with this piece
of herself, she let me know that she feels no need to attract other
men and considers herself totally mine.”

“
Do you believe
her?”

Her voice sounded thick
with emotion and he noticed a sheen in her eyes. He cupped her chin
and cast her a tender smile. “Is there a reason I should
not?”

“
Nay.” She gulped, trying
to avert her gaze. “But her father said you would never trust her
and you would be angry over the gift.”

“
Her father was
wrong.”

Happiness lit her eyes,
making them sparkle like sun-struck jewels. “Then I suppose I
should set the braid aside and remove your undertunic.”

Barwolf placed the braid
on top of the tunic then removed his undertunic. She clutched the
garment against her chest and stared at him slack-jawed.

God’s bones, ‘twould be
morn before she got him undressed at this rate. “What is wrong
now?”

Barwolf glanced at one of
the statues then back at Bernon. “You have more hair than I
expected.” She reached out and ran her fingers over the hair on his
chest. She settled her other hand over her middle and gulped. Her
palm grazed over a nipple, then she looked back at the statue and
drew her brows together perplexed. “Why do you suppose he doesn’t
have any?”

“
Any what?” She could be
hard to follow most any time, but ‘twas near impossible when her
innocent caress had him throbbing with anticipation.

“
Nipples. You have some,
but he does not. I expected you to look like him, but you don’t.
You have more hair and nipples and bigger muscles.” She raised
curious eyes. “Are you different anywhere else?”

Bernon glanced at the
ridiculously small phallus on the statue and issued an arrogant
snort. His bride was in for a surprise. He stood up and grinned
down at her. “There is one way for you to find out.”

“
Then I suppose I should
take off your braies, should I not?” She didn’t wait for an answer.
Her fingers eagerly loosed the strings at his waist, and she began
pushing down his breeches. When the material was bunched around his
knees, she hesitated and ran a feathery stroke down the back of his
thigh. Then she swallowed and shook her head. “You have powerful
muscles in your legs.”

“
Do you mind?” he asked,
stepping out of his braies and standing before her in only his
chausses.

“
Nay.” She picked up the
breeches, turned away without looking at him, and neatly folded the
garment. After placing the braies on top of the growing pile, she
turned around and stared at him in wonder. She slid her gaze with a
slow, intense fascination from his muscled neck to his toes. Then
she gulped.

Bernon raised a brow at
her bold stare. Drool should pour from the corner of her mouth any
moment. No one had ever given him such a hungry look in his life.
He felt his loin tense from her natural desire. “Dare I suppose you
will remove my chausses next?”

“’
Tis my plan,” she said,
staring at the garment.

Had he ever wanted another
woman this much? He might die if he didn’t have her soon. “Are you
waiting on something?”

“
Nay. I was just thinking,
but I am done now.” She slipped her hands in the waist of his
chausses and began tugging the garment down.

He sucked in a breath in
anticipation of freedom. “What were you thinking?”

“
That you are not—” She
broke off as his manhood sprang free. “Oh. My. Lord.” She stared at
his unveiled masculinity and her jaw went slack. “You are not like
I expected at all.”

She reached out and
caressed down the length of his hot flesh with a slow light stroke,
all the while gazing with awe.

Bernon dragged in a ragged
breath then groaned as he hardened from her delicate
touch.

Her eyes grew huge along
with his flesh, and she jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry. I did not
mean to hurt you.”

“
You didn’t hurt me,” he
said in a tight voice.

“
But you groaned.” She
wrung her hands, unable to take her gaze off his groin.

God’s bones, her stare was
as arousing as her touch. “’Twas from the pleasure your touch gave
me.”

“
You mean I did something
that pleased you?” she asked, sounding amazed.

“
Aye, very
much.”

“
But you...you are swollen
and red now,” she said, pointing at his erection and taking a step
backward.

He took a step toward her.
“And hard.”

“
And you like this?” she
asked in blatant disbelief.

God help him, she still
hadn’t figured it out. “’Tis part of having magic. Your touch just
raised my wand.”

“
You
mean
that
is what
you are going to poke me with!” All color receded from her
complexion and she raised frantic eyes to his.

He nodded.

“
Where?” she asked,
stepping backward and bumping into a statue.

Damn, he had to get rid of
her panic, but anything he said could only make it worse. “Do you
trust me?”

Barwolf raked her fingers
through her curls and looked at the floor. “I suppose maybe Cora
left out a few things.”

“
I will
be glad to instruct you on what she left out as soon as we finish
my bath.”
If I can last that
long.

A fiery hue swept up
Barwolf’s chest through her neck and up to her hairline. “If you
will get in the water, then I will get soap and be right
there.”

Thank the Almighty her
color came back—with vigor. She skittered past him around the far
side of the bench and walked over to a small chest near the wall.
He was near to bursting with need and she appeared ready to bolt.
Bernon watched her nervous progress and sighed. This was going to
be a trial of endurance.

He walked over to the
large pool, sat on the edge, and lowered his feet into the water,
finding the temperature pleasantly warm. He eased down. His feet
touched bottom, but his toes hung off. He realized a ledge provided
a bench along the wall of the pool. Testing the depth of the lower
level, he stood and the water reached just above his waist. As he
waded toward the center of the pool, he noticed the floor was built
on an incline, and he swam to the far end.

“
Bernon, you are in the
wrong bath,” Barwolf called to him from the edge where he had
entered.

“
The water is warm,” he
called back. Then he swam toward her.

“
The temperature stays the
same all year long. Would you please come over to the middle
pond?”

Bernon stood up a few feet
from her. “This one is perfect. Take off the sheet and come in for
a swim.”

She shook her head
vigorously. “No, thank you. I have already bathed. I will wait and
when you are ready—”

“
Come. ‘Twill help you
relax,” he said, moving to the ledge.

She shook her head and
took a step back.

“
I insist.”

“
Can I talk you out of
this?” she asked in a resigned tone.

“
I do not usually issue
orders twice,” he said in a mild tone. Sometime on the morrow, he
was going to have a talk with her about questioning his
orders.

Barwolf took a hesitant
step over to the pool and sat on the edge, keeping wary eyes fixed
upon the water. Her fingers nearly pulled out her hair, then a
convulsive swallow rippled through her throat. She lowered her feet
onto the ledge, turned around with the speed of a squirrel, and
held onto the side of the pool with both hands.

Bernon shook his head and
waded over behind her. “You do not have to be afraid of me,
cheri
.”

Bernon removed the drape
of the sheet from her shoulder then unwrapped her and tossed the
sheet aside. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her
against his chest, clearing her feet from the ledge and freeing her
hands from the edge. From the strength of her grip, he wondered if
she had left skin behind. He began swimming backward into the
deeper water. Why in perdition he expected her to float along on
top of him, he wasn’t sure. She never had done anything he expected
and persisted with that flaw.

Barwolf turned and
clutched with frantic hands at his water-slick flesh. “Bernon, do
not let go of—”

He stood in the chest-high
water and fished out his sputtering bride. She flung herself at him
and locked her arms around his neck, gasping for breath.

“
Why did you not tell me
you cannot swim?” he asked, rubbing comforting stokes down her
back.

Her breathing slowed, and
she turned surprised eyes on him. “You told me not to tell you
anymore of my flaws. I tried to get you to move to the
short-person’s bath.”

“
You have
a peculiar way of choosing which orders you will follow.” He waded
back to the shallow waters with her in his arms. “From now on, if I
give you an order that you know will put you in danger, I expect
you to tell me
before
you follow it.”

“
But I was not in danger,”
she muttered against his ear.

Bernon rolled his eyes and
sat her on the edge of the pool. “And what do you call getting into
deep water when you cannot swim?”

“
Normally I would call it
foolish, but you were here and I knew you wouldn’t let me drown,”
she said, wiping the excess water off her face with her
hands.

He studied her nervous
gestures, not showing surprise or relief over her absolute trust
being so casually verbalized.

She noticed his stare and
glanced away, wrapping her arms over her breasts. “Are you
disappointed with me, Bernon?”

“
Most people do not know
how to swim. I assumed you knew because of these baths. I will
teach you.”

“
I did not mean that. I do
not look like the statues and my grandfather told me that is what
perfect people look like. You are more perfect than they are. I’m
not.” She ended in a shamed whisper.

“
Ma
petite,
look at me.” He took both her
hands in his and waited for her to raise her gaze. “Do you remember
what we both said in your dream after your cloths came
off?”

“
I said my bosoms are too
big and my waist is too small,” she said in a tiny
voice.

“
And what did I
say?”

A flush stole over her
cheeks and she lowered her gaze to his neck. “You told me they were
just right and then you touched them.”

“
There is something you
should know.” He nudged her chin back up and let a tender smile
tilt one corner of his mouth. “’Twas no dream.”

Barwolf’s eyes grew huge.
“You mean you really sucked on my bosom and touched me dow...” Her
eyes filled with dread then tears. She jerked her hands from his
grasp and lowered her burning cheeks to her palms. “I threw up in
front of you!”

“
You had too much to drink.
‘Tis nothing to cry over,” he said in a gentle tone, lightly
caressing her shoulder.

“
You do not understand.”
She shook her head and sniffed. “I cannot remember most of that
night. I have worried that I did something that displeased you and
I did.”

Bernon cupped her cheeks
and raised her gaze to his. “I am not displeased. I learned some
important things about yourself that night. You are conscientious
about your duties. You have mastered the dagger. You are jealous of
other women who flirt with me. You are a virgin. You like magic.
And my body likes yours as much as yours likes mine.”

She swallowed and stared
at him. “That must have been some night for me not to remember most
of it.”

“
Do not worry so. You
remembered the best part. Let’s move over to the short-person’s
bath and see to mine. Then I’m going to change the end of your
dream.” Bernon climbed out of the pool and pulled Barwolf to her
feet.

She glanced at the statue,
shook her head, and padded over to the next bath where she had left
a basket of supplies and an urn on the floor. She picked up a linen
cloth and chunk of soap, then faced him as a pink blush spread over
her entire body. “I need you to stay on the ledge,
please.”

“
Are you
embarrassed?”

“
I am trying not to be.
Cora said ‘tis all right for a wife not to wear clothes in front of
her husband, but I’m not used to having anyone see me naked. I am
hoping giving you a bath will take my mind off it.”