FLAME OF DESIRE (30 page)

Helping her down from her horse, Richard’s hands lingered on the soft curves of her body and she tingled at his touch. They had waited so long for this moment, it seemed. Too long.

“I feel like a young lad again,” he whispered in her ear, gently taking her hand. The horses were safely stabled and then they entered the inn.

An old man and his wife greeted them, the woman nudging her husband as if to say, “Newlyweds.” At Richard’s request for a room, she smiled and led them up the stairs to where a large, low-ceilinged room awaited them, as if it had been built for their comfort. It had a fireplace, a carved oak bed and matching table and chairs, wall hangings, and a window with a wide expanse of glass.

“Perfect!” Richard exclaimed, thrusting several gold coins into the woman’s hands. Thinking that Hugh Seton might seek to find them here, he said, “We do not wish anyone to know that we are here. I will pay you well for holding your tongue.”

“Yes, sir.” She grinned. “I know how to keep quiet.” She put her finger to her lips.

“We would like a bath first and then to be left alone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slamming the door, Richard, bolted it securely as a warm smile played about his features. “I love you. I want to say it again and again.”

“And I love you!”

“We have dared much for our love. Even the queen will be against us now. She will be loath to have such a scandal touch her court.”

“I don’t care. All I want is you. Kiss me, Richard.”

He complied gladly, his lips soft and gentle, his hands caressing her with infinite skill. A knock at the door interrupted them.

“I intend to bathe with you. What think you of that?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

Flashing him a seductive smile, she answered, “I would like nothing better, my Lord.” Cautiously he unbolted the door.

A tall strapping youth lugged in a large round wooden tub and behind him came four other boys carrying water buckets. Making several trips, they soon had the tub filled nearly to the brim.

Looking down at her once-white gown, now splattered with mud and dirt from the road, Heather could almost hear her father saying, “look at you, girl. Have you no idea of the cost of that gown?” In spite of herself she smiled.

Richard, seeing that smile, smiled himself, thinking how angry Seton would be to think that Richard was enjoying his supposed wedding night. What might have been a tragedy had turned to victory.

At last with a wave of Richard’s hand, the young boys were gone and he and Heather faced each other across the room. “Let me start a fire,” he said.

Watching as he threw wood onto the grating, then lit the fire stick, she looked at him. He was so handsome. As the fire blazed in the hearth, its flickering flames dancing against the blackened stone, she thought to herself that as he had sparked the fire, so had he inflamed her very soul.

“There. That will keep us warm,” he whispered, standing up to strip off his garments. He let them fall where they might, then looked at her with a smoldering gaze. “Now you.”

Heather stood up and unfastened her gown. “I need help, my love,” she breathed. He stepped forward, standing before her, so close that there was barely an inch between them, just enough space for her gown to slip from her body and fall to the floor at her feet. Standing in her chemise, she tried to banish her fears of Seton. What if he were to find them? Would the woman keep their secret? She shuddered to think what would happen if she did not.
I won’t think of that now
, she thought.

Tugging at the chemise, Richard watched as it too slid to the floor. The sight of her sweet high breasts, narrow waist, and slender hips was well worth waiting for.

“I’m sorry that I am so thin,” she whispered with a slight blush, covering her breasts with her hands. She told him of how her father had tried to force her to marry Seton by locking her up without food.

“My God. Heather.” He was infuriated at what had been done to her, but fought his anger, seeking now to comfort her. “You are beautiful,” he whispered, bending down to kiss each soft peak as if this way he could take away her suffering. Caressing one breast, he whispered, “A perfect fit for my hand. You are just the right size.”

Heather moved her body against him, feeling the burning flesh touching hers. “There is always magic between us,” she said in wonder. “Such wonderful magic.”

“You were created to be loved,” he answered. Picking her up in his arms, he deposited her in the warm water. She leaned back in the soothing depths and closed her eyes.

Watching her in her bath aroused Richard and he joined her quickly, the water nearly overflowing as he settled into the already brimming tub. “Scrub my back and I promise I will reward you,” he said with a teasing smile.

Hesitating for only a moment, Heather set about lathering him, noting with pleasure the broad chest and the muscles of his abdomen. Her eyes moved lower and she stared at the throbbing manhood which proved his desire for her.

“You may touch me there if you like,” he said with a laugh, noticing the direction of her glance. “It will not bite you; in fact you will remember that it gave you the greatest pleasure.” Heather did touch him with the gentle probing hands of the curious, marveling at the strength his manhood portrayed.

“It likes my touch.”

“Yes,” he answered, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He let his breath out in a long drawn out sigh giving himself up to the pleasure of the moment.

Although this was what she had dreamed of for so long, Heather felt suddenly awkward and shy. “I want to please you….” she said softly.

“You do….” He stroked her body gently until she relaxed.  He held her for a long while, whispering words of love in her ear. 

“Strange…..” she said. “It’s almost as if we never made love before.”

“We’ve been away from each other, that’s all. But we are together now and there are many things that I want to teach you..…”

His hands closed around her shoulders, pulling her to him. In the small confines of the tub it was difficult maneuvering their bodies, and in exasperation he stood up in the tub, taking her with him. Reaching for a large linen towel near the tub with which to dry her, he acted as lady’s maid, drying her soft curved body and then his own.

“We must get you to bed before you catch a chill… From now one I will take care of you.”

Burying her face against his chest as he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, Heather thought again how much she loved him. He was a gentle lover, never cruel of forceful.

With a sweeping movement he tugged at the covers and laid her down upon the linen. He kissed her then, molding his lips to hers, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth with great tenderness. Heather’s lips parted to his mouth, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him, and yes, the very smell of him. It was as if they had been fashioned, molded each for the other. Could any wine taste as sweet as his kisses? She knew it could not.

Caressing her, kissing her, he left no part of her free from his touch, and she responded with a natural passion. It was as if they were all alone in the world. Adam and his Eve.

Smoothing back a strand of her hair, he pressed a kiss against her warm skin. Lying there, her red hair billowing out around her, she looked so fragile, but he knew what strength she possessed.

“I love you Heather.”

Staring up into the mesmerizing depths of his eyes, Heather felt an aching tenderness for him. This was love, not lust, that they shared. Something that transcended the body and joined the souls. Reaching up her arms, she clung to him, drawing in his strength and giving hers to him in return. She could feel his heart pounding and knew that hers beat in matching rhythm.

“Richard,” she whispered, touching his face with her fingertips. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would feel like this.”

“Nor I,” he answered.

Reaching out her own hands, she explored his body as he had done hers. His flesh was warm to her touch, pulsating with the strength of his masculinity.

“Love me. Love me now,” she whispered. The frantic desire for him was nearly unbearable. She writhed in pleasure and pain as he covered her body with his own. His manhood entered gently, teasing the petals of her womanhood.

“You are warm and damp and inviting,” he said, covering her mouth in a searing kiss as he thrust into her softness.

Heather locked her pale, slender thighs about him. There was nothing in the world but this man filling her, loving her. She wanted time to stand still, the earth to stop its spinning so that they could be entwined like this forever.

Welcoming his thrusts, she moved with him until they were engulfed by wave after blessed wave of ecstasy. For a moment they both hung suspended in time as blue eyes met gray ones.

“Heather!” Richard’s cry was like a benediction. With a shudder he was still, yet buried deep within her. “You will always be mine.”

Sighing with happiness, she snuggled within the cradle of his arms, happy and content at last.

Chapter Forty-Two

Heather awoke as the first rays of the sun warmed the room through the large glass window. Lying with Richard’s strong body entwined with hers, she felt a fierce surge of desire to again feel his hands caressing her, his mouth upon her own. Last night had brought an elation and pleasure beyond belief, even more beautiful than the first night they had joined their bodies in love. They had made love yet again, had fallen asleep cradled in each other’s arms, and then had made love once more.

Richard looked so young in the depths of his slumber as she studied his face in the bright light of the sun. Like a boy, handsome and vulnerable. His eyelashes were so thick and black. Perhaps someday she would have a daughter with the beauty and strength this man possessed, or a son. Someday.

Reaching out, she gently touched his beard, the soft bristles tickling her hand as she stroked his face. How could she ever forget the first time she had seen him, standing so tall and strong before her? Even then she had begun to love him and had felt the urge to protect him, despite the risk of Northumberland’s ire.

Heather lay back down upon the bed and snuggled once again into the warmth of his arms, her head against his chest. She found herself wishing that life could always be as peaceful as it was this morning. If only she could remain in his arms forever, safe from the cruelty and ignorance of the world.

“What are you thinking?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“How happy I am here with you, that I wish it could always be this way.”

He didn’t even need to touch her to be overcome to bursting with his desire. Just the thought of her inflamed him. Reaching out, he caressed her. Her body was perfection. How he loved the smooth soft skin of her body, the peaks of her breasts, the taste of her skin, the fragrance of her hair.

“Are you hungry?” she asked innocently.

“Aye. For you,” he answered, opening his eyes to look at her smiling face. “I long to find myself nestled in your velvety softness.” Feverishly he kissed her, his lips teasing hers until the assault left her breathless.

Reaching up to fasten her arms around his back, she clung to him, pulling him closer and she returned his kisses with wild abandon. His hands and mouth moved over her body, bringing forth a rippling fire of pleasure, and she in turn stroked his back, her soft hands at last sliding down to touch, to explore his male hardness.

Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he buried his face in the long silky strands, inhaling deeply of the sweet rose fragrance. “Heather,” he mumbled hoarsely.

Gently he pressed her down among the pillows, his mouth tracing a path of flame across the flat plain of her stomach. There was not an inch of her he did not know already, but he wanted to rediscover the glory of her, arouse her to the highest heights, bring her the greatest of pleasure.

Heather felt the ripples of desire course through her blood like the sparks of a radiating fire consuming her as he probed gently between her legs. His manhood was sheathed within the moist softness of her body like a sword in a scabbard. This time their joining was filled with a frenzy as they surged together. Heather held on to him tightly as the world seemed to quake beneath them, arching to him, moving with him as powerful shudders swept through them both. Clinging to each other, they glided slowly back to earth to drift off into a contented slumber once again.

When Heather awoke it as to find Richard sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at her. “Breakfast awaits you, my lady,” he said with a grin, gesturing toward the oak table. Spread out on a white linen cloth was a veritable feast.

Achingly aware of her disarray, she sat up in bed. Her hair was a mass of tangles, her face needed washing. Instantly Richard was aware of her needs, bringing forth a small mirror mounted in a wooden frame—and a brush.

“I knew that you would have need of  these when you awoke, so I asked the innkeeper’s wife if she could procure them for me.” He nodded toward a small basin and pitcher. “And there is warm water with which you can wash.”

Clutching the linen bedcover to her bosom, she was suddenly shy. How foolish to feel that way after what had already passed between them, she thought, and yet there was something so personal about grooming oneself and going about the morning necessities. It had been different when he was with her in the stables. Then she had always left him when the need arose.

Richard sensed her feelings and said quickly, “I see that they forgot the wine. Let me leave you just a moment, my love. Would you prefer the white or the red?”

“The red,” she answered, watching him walk toward the door. As soon as the door closed behind him she was up and about, washing her face, brushing her hair, cleaning her teeth and going about her morning toilette. Donning her chemise, she looked at the white gown, soiled beyond repair and totally inappropriate for her present needs. She would be better off dressed only in her undergarments than to have to bother with the gown and farthingale. For once she longed for the simple dresses she had worn at home, comfortable and easy to keep clean.