Virginia Henley (30 page)

He grinned and closed the distance between them in two strides. His fingers threaded through her hair, and he brought her face up for his kiss. “Let me show you how grateful,” he murmured against her mouth.

She felt the kiss all the way down to her knees. He slipped her breast from her shirt, and she cried out as he dipped his head to put his hot mouth onto her sensitive nipple. She pulled away from him. “My bath, Ravenspur.”

“Do you mean to deny me?” he asked softly.

“Without a moment’s hesitation.” Her words were cut off as his mouth descended onto hers to take the kisses he lusted for. “Have I not taught you that I will take whatever 1 want from you, whenever I want it? I think another lesson is in order.”

“Ravenspur, my bath!”

“To hell with your bath!” he swore. He had an overwhelming need to assert his authority over her, to brand her flesh as his. He almost tore the silken shirt off her; pushing her back onto the bed, he pulled off her riding skirt. The soft suede riding boots came up almost to her thighs, and she presented such an erotic picture, lying nude save the boots, that he went on his knees to her, burying his head between her legs. He tongued her, seeking her honey, which sent pulsating waves of heat up inside of her.

“Please … no!” she cried, thinking she couldn’t
bear the intensity a moment longer. But his tongue was like wildfire stroking her secret place, arousing pleasures that were before unknown. At last she cried out her pleasure; he did not withdraw his tongue until she lay quiet and panting to catch her breath. He stood up and grinned down at her. “I have other presents, brought all the way from Tangiers on one of my ships,” he added persuasively. “Come back after your bath and see if the things please you.”

“If this is your way of apologizing, I’ll think on it,” she said grandly.

The corners of his mouth twitched. Even naked, her manner showed her royal blood as clearly as if she had proclaimed from the rooftops that she was the King’s daughter.

Late in the afternoon, when she thought perhaps he would not be in his chamber, she slipped along to satisfy her curiosity about what was in the leather trunk. She cautiously opened his door but gasped when he grinned at her.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said artlessly.

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Roseanna, you are a damned little cheat!”

She laughed. “Ravenspur, I have to be as wily as a fox to deal with you. Now, my lord, what did you bring me?”

“You are all woman! In spite of yourself you adore presents.” He indicated the trunk. “Help yourself.”

She knelt down and lifted the trunk lid. She gasped with pleasure at the sight of the brilliant silks. She pulled out a silken caftan of scarlet, and another of bright turquoise, and yet another of pale orchid. Beneath these was a robe of pure white with a white turban encrusted with small topaz jewels and golden beads. She opened the
ivory casket and sniffed each bottle with appreciation. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that Roger removed his doublet and shirt without her noticing.

“Try them on,” he said huskily, and when she turned to look at him, she was stunned by his naked chest, powerfully muscled and covered with black hair. His powerful thighs showed clearly in his skin-tight breeches; his half-naked body disturbed her deeply. He exuded mastery over himself and, she imagined, over any situation in which he found himself. “Put one on,” he urged, “and I’ll have Mr. Burke fetch our supper up here.”

She could not resist the pure white robe with the matching turban and lifted it reverently from the trunk. Her mother’s words drifted back to her—
“Enslave him”
—and she wondered if it would be possible to enslave this man.

A low knock came upon the chamber door, and Roger uttered a fertile oath. He opened the door to admit Dirk. The young man handed Ravenspur a ring of keys. “The prisoner is secure for the night, my lord. His horse has been locked away as an added precaution.”

Roger nodded curtly and closed the door after him.

“What prisoner is that?” asked Roseanna with interest.

Roger’s face was closed and forbidding, and suddenly an ugly suspicion raised itself.

“Who is your prisoner, my lord?” she asked again.

“Leave it, Roseanna,” he warned.

Her mouth went dry. “It’s Sir Bryan, isn’t it?” she demanded.

“I suspect him of being involved in a plot of treason, Roseanna. I want him secure under my hand for the next few days.”

“Treason? You must be mad! You’re doing this because of jealousy—admit it!” she cried.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Have I reason to be jealous?”

“No, damn you! No, no! This is utterly ridiculous. You will release him at once!”

“No, Roseanna, I will not release him. Leave it be. You know nothing of the matter,” he said in forbidding tones.

“I know that he went with me and my brother to buy horses. Why, you might as well accuse my brother of treason!”

“I do,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened at his words. “You are mad, or lying, or both!”

He went over to his discarded doublet and drew a scrap of paper from the pocket. He handed her the note that read, “The prisoner is to be taken to Middleham.” She read it, then looked at him uncomprehendingly.

“When I found you missing, I searched Sir Bryan’s belongings and discovered this message along with a signaling lantern. As soon as I was safely out of the way, Sir Bryan signaled for your brother to come; then together they held you overnight in case they had to use you.”

“But they didn’t take me to Middleham,” she protested.

“I know, for I went to rescue you. They didn’t need to take you to Middleham. Jervaulx Abbey served them just as well without arousing your suspicions.”

“Ravenspur, I have no idea what you are talking about. Why would I be of any use to them in this deep plot?”

“Because you are the King’s daughter,” he said quietly.

She was stunned. “You know?” she whispered. “You know Edward is my father?”

“Of course, Roseanna. Ned is my dearest friend.”

“That’s why you married me at all costs! ’Twas ambition masqueraded as love!” She flew at him with doubled-up fists and battered against his bare chest. “Damn you, damn you, Ravenspur!”

“Stop it, Roseanna. You are working yourself up to hysterics.” He set the paper down onto the bedside table and placed his ring of keys atop it. “If Sir Bryan is innocent of wrongdoing, he has nothing to fear.”

“Release him; I will vouch for him,” she pressed.

“Nay, Roseanna, I will not!”

She was panting now with anger. “I will never speak to you again!” she spat as she slammed out of his chamber.

    Her frustration was so great that she couldn’t help telling Kate that Ravenspur had locked up Sir Bryan. Roseanna wrung her hands as she sat in Kate’s chamber. “I cannot bear to think of him in the dungeons. Ravenspur is heartless!”

Kate Kendall shook her head. “Such a nice North-country laddie. But ye’ve driven your husband to this with your own willfulness. Running off, not telling where you were going. He thinks Sir Bryan’s your lover, and he means to put a stop to it!”

Roseanna clenched her fists. “He’ll not best me in this, you know. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll free Sir Bryan.”

“You’ll not get around Ravenspur with that high temper. There’s more flies caught with honey than vinegar.”

“Say me no sayings, Kate—you’ll drive me mad!” She went into her own chamber and shut the door with a bang. She paced the room like a caged cat; her mind
raced over the recent events. It was true that Bryan had been in the barbican tower with a signaling lantern and that the following morning Jeffrey had shown up. But whatever they were up to was probably some boyish prank. How was it that Tristan could get up to any mischief and Ravenspur would dismiss it with an indulgent chuckle, but her brother was guilty of treason? Treason! She’d never heard such a preposterous notion.

But Kate was right—she could never bully him into releasing Bryan. She’d have to get around him by subtle means. She picked up her brush and began to brush out her hair vigorously. When it began to crackle, she brushed more slowly; the soothing strokes aided her thinking.

That was it; she’d seduce him! Then she shook her head impatiently. She could never gull Ravenspur; he was too wise and experienced in women’s ways. Her wicked juices bubbled as she went over her dilemma from every angle. She wanted this from him, but in order to get it she would have to exchange something he wanted from her. He made no secret of what he wanted from her, she thought, her pulse quickening. If she offered to strike a bargain—one night in which she would do anything he desired in exchange for Bryan’s release—would he agree?

Here was her chance to use every womanly weapon she possessed to see if she could enslave him. Her color high and a frantic pulse beating in her throat, she emerged from her chamber and walked on a direct path to his. She took a deep breath and turned the handle of the heavy door. It swung smoothly open to reveal Ravenspur; one hand was already withdrawing his knife from its sheath against the intruder who entered without knocking. He quickly sheathed his knife and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I have something to say to you, Ravenspur,” she said in a rush.

The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Are you not the lady who vowed never to speak to me again?” he teased.

She stamped her foot in annoyance. “Be serious, can you not?”

He schooled his face with great care and said solemnly, “I’ll try.”

His dark eyes upon her, she was suddenly shy about what she had come to say. The touch of his glance was almost physical as it moved over her, as if he wanted to commit to memory the length of her lashes, the exact shade of her eyes, the contour of her mouth, and the size of her swelling breasts. As his gaze moved lower and lingered on the curves of her body, she knew he was undressing her with his eyes. Then she clearly saw his physical response to her: his manhood swelled and hardened, stretching the material across his groin to the bursting point.

Instinctively, she had picked her moment perfectly. “I’ve come to bargain with you,” she said softly, allowing her eyes to linger on the bulge between his legs before she lowered her lashes demurely.

A slight frown creased his brow as he realized what she was about to propose. “Sir Bryan’s release in return for what?” he asked low.

“Anything you desire,” she said with a seductive, sideways glance that drew him irresistibly until he was close enough to touch her.

What he desired was that she love him, but he knew she would not give him that. So he’d settle for the next best thing. “A sample first, Roseanna.”

She stood upon her toes and, lifting her arms behind his head, kissed him softly. Her breasts pressed against the curly mat of his naked chest; he could feel their heat through the material of her gown. His eyes lingered on her mouth for long, tension-filled moments.

“Well?” she asked at last.

“You know the answer is yes. I’ll let the young devil go free in the morning.” He moved toward a side table to pour himself a drink, then stretched his long length upon the bed.

She watched him uncertainly, wondering what he would demand of her. Then with a wicked grin he made all plain: “Seduce me, Roseanna.”

For a moment she was shocked; then the corners of her mouth lifted as she realized she was certainly woman enough to do that. Her laughter rippled out and sent a delicious shiver of anticipation down his spine.

She picked up a stool and set it down at a distance from the bed, which allowed him an unobstructed view. She sat down gracefully, and as she bent low to remove her slippers, her full breasts swelled temptingly from the neck of her gown. She heard him draw in a swift breath as she pulled her skirts up above her waist, exposing her thighs. Then she elevated one slim leg and removed the stocking and garter. Her fingers moved with such tantalizing slowness, he felt impatience building within his demanding body. She treated him to the slowest, most seductive undressing imaginable, and he schooled himself to lie back and enjoy it to the full. She removed her gown and folded it and placed it upon the stool; then she slipped off her panties and stood before him clad only in her shift. Its material was so fine that when she passed before the fire, he was transfixed. Every movement was
intended for seduction, and as she reached her arms high to pull off the shift, she bared her body for him an inch at a time. She stood proudly naked before him for long minutes, then she lifted her hair with both arms and let it cascade over her nudity like a silken waterfall.

His eyes feasted hungrily on her impudent nipples that thrust upward; then they fastened onto her creamy thighs, which were topped by a deliciously swelling Venus mound that he needed to taste.

Roseanna threw her husband a bold smile, then went on her knees before the leather chest. Slowly she opened the lid and drew out the ivory scent casket. She selected a perfume made from attar of rose and proceeded to drive him to distraction as she perfumed all the most intimate and secret places on her body. Then she selected the flame-colored silk caftan and lifted her arms high once more; it floated over her head and down her body. The performance was complete.

Roger could no longer bear the distance between them. He came up from the bed and lifted her high in his strong arms, then let her slide slowly down his body.

She felt his shaft hot and throbbing against her thighs, then her belly, and when her toes touched the carpet again, he bent his head to capture her mouth and make it his prisoner. His kiss was demanding, and she opened to his plundering tongue as a flame seared upward through her body, setting her afire with the need for him. The silk robe shivered against her breasts as he slowly pulled it from her body; moving backward, he took both her hands and drew her to his bed. He lay back and pulled her on top of him; then he whispered, “Love me, Roseanna.”

She smiled her secret smile and kissed his eyelids. Then
she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue before moving to the thick, corded column of his throat. She nuzzled his neck, while her fingers played teasingly with his small male nipples. When they hardened, she dropped her hot mouth first to one, then to the other, sucking until a throbbing began between her legs, deep in her woman’s core.