Come Back to Me (10 page)

Her smile broadened. "A determined man."

"Yes," he said, and went for the horses.

THEY RETURNED TO THE LODGE AT MIDDAY. Rycca claimed to feel fine yet offered no protest when Dragon insisted that she lie down and rest for a while. Intending to do no more than close her eyes, she slept until close on to evening.

She woke to find no sign of him. Romulus and Remus were in their stalls, happy as ever to see her. If he had left, it was not on horseback, but then he preferred his own two feet. Not that she truly believed he had left, she was merely being foolish. Yet was her foolishness relieved when she saw the fish left gutted and scaled, ready to be put on green branches over the fire. Where was he then? The river? She was turning in that direction when she noticed smoke rising from the side of a small hill not far from the lodge.

She had heard of saunas but they belonged to the Danes, therefore were not a thing honest Englishmen indulged in. Why was there one here? She was just starting toward the sauna when the low door in the side of the hill opened and a man stepped outside. A naked man.

Oh…

Oh, my…

Heaven…

Rycca's cheeks flamed. They felt hot enough to light tinder but she scarcely noticed. Without allowing herself to think, she slipped behind a tree and stared. Although, to be honest, "stared" really didn't get close to it. She gaped… she gawked… she practically ogled. She was enthralled, fascinated, deeply impressed, and positively tingling.

He was glorious. Far and away, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. Her palms itched. She wanted to run them over every inch of his magnificent body, over broad shoulders that rounded into chest and arms taut with muscle, over thighs and calves that looked corded with steel, and back up again to…

She'd forgotten to breathe. Inhaling painfully, she watched him turn toward the river. Even his back was beautiful, and his buttocks…

When had the day turned so horribly hot? Indeed, it was a marvel the grass wasn't igniting before her eyes. Perhaps the sun had suddenly moved closer. Yes, that must be it.

No, it wasn't, it was she, feeling as hot for a man as any of the wanton women of whom she had heard drunken tales when eavesdropping on her father and his louts. Women she had always assumed did not exist, for surely no woman could desire a man like that. But yes, she could. And did. Moreover, he was a man who had no reason to suspect he was being looked upon in such an untoward fashion. If their positions were reversed, and she found him invading her privacy like that, she would be furious. Also excited. Oh, no, that wasn't true. Well, yes, it was, but she absolutely wasn't going to think about it.

She ought to be ashamed of herself. And as soon as she was breathing regularly again, she probably would be.

He was going to the river, to swim no doubt after the heat of the sauna. That was how it worked, wasn't it? First stifling heat, then a dip in water, the colder the better. Crystal droplets of water running over that big, hard body, trailing where she wished her fingers to trail…

She could have used a good, cold dunking right about then but she wasn't going anywhere near that river. That much sense she still had. Or had again now that he was safely out of sight. Ah, but the memory lingered, turning over in her mind in lovely, exquisite detail.

Breathe… in
…
out
…

He was just a man just a man just a man. If she could only remember that, she would be all right.

Except he wasn't and, try though she did to convince herself otherwise, she was too intrinsically honest to manage it.

Which left her with a problem. He was going to come back; she was going to have to face him. She would die first, absolutely curl up into a little ball of embarrassment and go
poof
away. No, she would not. She had far too much pride for any such thing. She would… manage… somehow.

Dragon returned from the river a short time later. He wore a fresh tunic of finely spun brown wool that left his arms comfortably bare and came a little more than halfway down his thighs. It was his customary garb in warm weather. Around his waist was a thick leather belt from which dangled a sword and scabbard. The path to the river was strewn with soft pine needles, thus he had not bothered with sandals. His hair was still wet and tied back at his nape. He had shaved earlier and felt much refreshed for being clean. Hawk could be a treacherous, manipulative bastard, but he was enlightened enough to have a decent sauna. He was also, Dragon reminded himself, a good friend who was going to have a damn difficult time understanding how Dragon had gotten himself sidetracked in the direction of a fiery-haired enchantress he had no business looking at twice.

Much less kissing.

One kiss. One small, ought-to-be inconsequential kiss.

He had wallowed in sensual delights with some of the most accomplished courtesans of the day, such being one of the great pleasures and benefits of travel. He had also enjoyed the shared joys of bed and body with women who made up in ardor what they lacked in art. He had long since passed the stage when a single kiss meant much of anything.

Hadn't he?

It did not matter overmuch now, when he had more immediate concerns, including how to manage what was suddenly a precariously unmanageable desire for her.

He had to persuade her to tell him who she was. Once he knew that, he could weigh the danger she was in and arrange for her safety. Even if her family was involved in the recent attempted rebellion against King Alfred, her future need not be bleak. Hawk could give her his protection and present her case to the king. Alfred was not a vindictive man when it came to women and children. Dragon knew she would be fine if only she would trust him with the truth.

It was getting her to that point that was the problem.

He was still mulling that over when he reached the lodge. The girl was nowhere in sight. He supposed she was still asleep. But the fish could not wait much longer and besides, she must be hungry. He was about to wake her when Rycca came around the corner near the stable. She held her head high and smiled at him matter-of-factly. Her cheeks looked flushed—by sleep, he assumed—but otherwise she seemed fine.

"You're back," she said.

"I went for a swim. By the way, there's a sauna here in case you'd like to use it."

That seemed to discomfit her, perhaps because it was foreign. "I'd prefer the river," she said. "It must be warm enough."

"It's perfect, very refreshing." In another moment, they would be talking about the weather. She had not been so uneasy with him after that kiss as she seemed to be now. Indeed, she had appeared somewhat preoccupied but nothing more. Now she was oddly self-conscious, obviously having to make a real effort to look directly at him. With time to consider what had happened between them, no doubt had come regrets.

He was sorry about that, for it made gaining her trust even more difficult, but the kiss itself he could not wish away. The memory was too sweet.

"I'll see to the fish," he said.

She gathered wild greens and berries while he prepared the rest of supper. They ate largely in silence except for her praise of the fish and a brief discussion about how to catch the best trout. She favored nets, he preferred lines. It was all very polite.

Night was falling by the time they finished eating, still did they sip the crisp Rhenish wine Dragon had also found in the larder. Even for an openhanded lord, Hawk was being uncommonly generous, well that he might.

Mars had risen, glowing red, and near it was the bright star Spica. There would be no moon that night and the sky was clear. A good time to study the heavens.

"Do your stories include any about the stars?" Rycca asked hesitantly. She saw where his attention had turned and felt the answering stir of curiosity she had experienced so often when contemplating the pinpoints of light that hovered above the world. Sometimes they really did seem close enough to touch, as he had yearned to as a child.

"A few," he said and smiled. Let him lull her with tales as a mother soothed her child. Let him spin marvels of legend, fable, and mayhap even truth until she forgot all else. He reached over and refilled both their cups again.

"See there? Those two bright stars there, one almost on top of the other, and the other stars trailing away to their left? That is Cassiopeia. She was queen in Ethiopia, an ancient land far to the south. A boastful woman, she is chained to her throne for annoying the gods. Sometimes she hangs upside down."

"That's awful."

He shrugged. "I suppose, but the Arabs say she's really just a kneeling camel, so who knows? See there to the right of her? That's her daughter, Andromeda. When Cassiopeia was trying to avoid her own fate, she thought to sacrifice Andromeda to appease the gods. She chained her to a rock by the sea where she would be devoured by a monster. Fortunately, the hero Perseus swooped down out of the sky on a great winged horse and saved her just in time."

"Lucky Andromeda," Rycca murmured.

Dragon saw his chance and took it. Quietly, he said, "Sometimes people need help. Sometimes they need to trust somebody to get them out of a difficult spot."

"I am not chained to a rock."

She was quick; he gave her that. "You might as well be, trying to manage on your own as you were."

"What happened to Andromeda after Perseus rescued her?"

Dragon shifted slightly. "What matters that?"

"It's part of the story, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Then finish it, please."

She said
please
. That undid him. He hated to deny women. "They fell deeply in love and married. Andromeda bore Perseus six sons and a daughter but their life was not untroubled. Perseus unwittingly fulfilled the prophecy made at his birth that he would slay his grandfather. He had to flee from his homeland but he ended by founding a great new kingdom from which many heroes sprang. Thus ends the tale."

What little was left of the long twilight was almost gone. He saw her face in shadows and streaks of flame. "A happy myth," she said, "nothing more."

"It could have happened."

She said nothing. He knew she disagreed.

And so to bed, Rycca within the lodge and Dragon without. Night deepened. Deer rose from the mossy clefts of banks where they drowsed away the day. Foxes crept from their dens. An owl glided overhead, her wings scarcely moving on whispers of air. A few small bats fluttered among the trees. In the stable, Romulus and Remus dreamed of endless meadows.

Dragon watched the heavens turn. He saw his namesake, Draco, the Dragon, arc across the sky. There were men who said the brightest star in Draco had once been the constant star by which men measured the way north. It was no longer, but the heavens changed in their own slow time, far beyond the brief ages of man, so perhaps it once had been so.

He drank more wine. A star streaked across the sky, burning brightly in its swift flight. Then it was gone, extinguished as though it had never been. Life was too damn short.

RYCCA PUNCHED THE PILLOW YET AGAIN. WHAT had previously been so comfortable now felt lumpy. The so-soft covers irritated her skin. She was too hot with them, too cool without. The bed was too wide, the air too still, the night too long.

Andromeda, indeed. And he an unlikely Perseus, not about to get up on any winged horse. Seven children… a lost kingdom and a new land. What a tale.

She hurt inside, a dull ache of emptiness. Why was life so hard? She and her twin had made common cause and tried to help each other as much as possible, but apart from that all she remembered was callousness, strife, and outright cruelty. Was that to be the sum total of her days? Even if she made it to Normandy, what life awaited her? Thurlow had his own way to make; she could not count on him for everything. Odds were she would have only two choices—the convent or marriage, both prisons of a sort.

She
knew
more was possible, sensed it with every fiber of her being, had even felt it within her grasp when she whirled, turning and turning, on the beach, savoring her freedom. But what good was freedom if it meant being alone? What good was companionship if it meant captivity?

Damned pillow.

She got up, walked to the windows, walked back again, ran her fingers over the long edge of the table, remembered the kiss.

The ache inside got worse.

Likely, she would be caught. For days she had refused to admit that, but the cold truth of it stuck in her mind, remorseless. Reaching Hawkforte was difficult enough. Doing it when word of her escape might already be about and people looking for her could be well nigh impossible. Even with his help, her chances of reaching safety were very small. And if she did not… She shuddered at the thought of the fate that awaited her.

She guessed she would be locked away, perhaps left to die. Her family could do that; it would not trouble them. Death then might be her only freedom.

Her throat tightened. She yearned to hold fast to life, to savor every moment and claim the joy she sensed it could offer if only…

If only what?

Fly
, her mind whispered, and her heart answered, soaring.