Authors: Angela Johnson
Rand smiled and followed after him, his fear for Alex concealed as he pondered the swift mercurial change he witnessed. The sudden switch from stark malice to undiluted happiness was disturbing, not only because it was so uncharacteristic, but also that it was so easily done. Alex repressed the hate as though it did not exist and Rand wondered where he buried the debilitating emotion.
Rand knew from personal experience how hate could warp and fester body and soul, like poison. And that animosity eventually spilled over to harm others around you as well.
Rand’s father had bitterly resented his marriage to his second wife. Rand’s mother had descended from Plantagenet royalty, albeit the illegitimate side. And even though she came with a rich dowry that amply filled the depleted coffers of the Montague estates, Rand’s father was an overly vain, proud man who thought Lady Claire socially inferior to him. But at old Lord Montague’s insistence, he married her. After years of ridicule from his peers, his father’s resentment turned to hatred. And when Rand and his younger twin sister had been born, his hatred found a new target.
Rand vowed never to allow his father’s antipathy to infect him. For hate in its extreme personified evil, and if it was not released, one day it would rise up and consume you. He prayed Alex learned that lessen sooner rather than later. Before his rancor became more important than aught else, even his love for Kat.
From atop her horse, Kat gazed at the colorful tents, waving flags, and faire stalls on the village green in the center of the market town. The gaiety of the crowds was a contagion one did not wish to stave off. Alex grasped her waist and lifted her off Lightning. Their bodies touched—breasts, loins, and thighs—as he slid her to the ground. She felt every nuance, his heat and hardness, her blood pounding thick and sluggish.
Since the night they made love, her relationship with Alex had taken an odd turn. In public, they were civil and circumspect in their behavior, making sure not to engage in any expression of physical intimacy. Then, in the darkest hours of the night, he slipped into their bed and into her body, rousing her from sleep. No carnal act was forbidden as he tutored her in pleasure, their illicit couplings thoroughly wicked, yet wildly exciting.
Now her body craved constant stimulation. Craved pleasure, the kind only Alex could give her.
“What would you like to do first?” his voice rumbled low, erotic. She barely noticed when a young boy led their horses away.
“Huh?”
He smiled, wolfish, as though he wished to devour her. “The faire awaits, madam. What is your desire? Hungry? Or shall we start with the amusements? Or is it more to your pleasure to visit the merchant stalls?”
A vein beat at the pulse of her throat, her voice thick as she spoke. “I
am
hungry, but should we not ask Rand and Rose, first?” Kat glanced around, but saw no sign of them.
“Gone. It would seem they have left us to our own devices. Come. I, too, hunger and yonder is a baker’s stall.” Hooking his left arm through hers, he led her to the field not fifty yards away, where a smiling, corpulent man wearing a flour-covered apron stood behind his stall.
When it was their turn, they bought a feast for two and found a crab apple tree a goodly distance away from the crowd. Alex settled her there beneath its spreading canopy of pale pink flowers before going to another stall that sold ale. Kat leaned back against the tree trunk and impatient as usual, sank her teeth into hot bread glazed with honey. The flavor of yeast, honey, and almonds exploded in her mouth. Honey dribbled over her fingers and she licked them one by one.
Bold, unhesitant footsteps approached. She looked up and found Alex staring, his gaze riveted on her lips and sticky fingers. His eyes sizzled, reminding her of when he pleasured her and her own honeyed essence coated his fingers and mouth. A low, dull throb pounded through her veins and spread downward to exquisitely sensitive areas.
Slowly, his smile turned rueful and his eyes filled with laughter. “I see you could not wait until I returned to start eating.
Again
. At least you have not disposed of my portion this time,” he teased. “I believe we are making progress.” Alex handed her a wooden mug of ale, sat down beside her, and propped his left arm on his bent knee.
“Just do not make me angry and your food supply will be safe,” Kat teased, falling into the easy camaraderie.
“Why not? I must admit I enjoy riling you. With your flashing silver eyes and flushed cheeks glowing,” he raised his hand to her face and trailed his fingers down the curve of her cheek and jaw, “all that passion raised to the surface, you are beautiful beyond words.” His thumb joined the caress, smoothing over her full bottom lip.
The surface of her skin throbbed where his fingers traced. Kat bit her lip and turned her head to stare at the crowds moving among the tents and stalls. At a striped red and green tent, a group of boys laughed and teased their friends as they played a game tossing rings over wooden stakes.
Alex handed her a hot pie. “Here, Kat. Eat up. We have a lot of ground to cover if we wish to see all the faire has to offer.”
Kat tucked into her food with relish, a combination of hunger and excitement over partaking in the faire’s amusements. They ate in silence. Besides a beef pie and honey bread, she consumed half the loaf of bread, an apple-filled pastry, and another filled with jam, and then washed it all down with ale. Full and replete, Kat leaned back against the rough bark of the tree with a loud sigh.
Alex laughed and leaned forward, blocking the sun from her face while the petals fluttered in the tree above them. She stilled, her breath leaving her as he neared. Suddenly, his smile sobered and using his thumb, he wiped the corner of her lip. “You missed something,” his voice roughened. Then, without releasing her gaze, he sucked his thumb between his lips. His eyes darkened to molten midnight. “Hmm…raspberry.”
Kat’s heart dropped at the sensual gesture. Entranced by his wicked smile, she did not realize that same hand trailed up her leg and under her skirt, until he brushed bare skin above her garter.
Kat pulled back in shock but to no avail; the tree behind her prevented escape while Alex loosely clasped her leg. He skimmed his hand along her inner thigh, bold fingers feathering over the sensitive surface. She gasped. “You are mad, Alex. Remove your hand. We are in public where all and sundry may observe us.”
She turned her head sharply and gazed out over the crowd, fear of discovery mingling with excitement. It sparked along her skin, ratcheting the tension as she searched faces, praying none looked their way. Still, his hand rode higher, a finger’s breadth from her moist heat. Her chest rose and fell in agitation.
“Have no fear. You are situated such, with the tree guarding you on one side and my body shielding you on the other, that none can see what I do.”
She returned her gaze to Alex. “’Tis not the point. What you do is indecent. Should only be shared in the privacy of our chambers. Not in bold daylight, in the middle of a field. Before an audience of strangers!”
“Tell me you don’t like it and I shall stop.”
His thumb, gloriously wet from his mouth, surged up inside her, deep, penetrating. “Ahh…” the moan escaped her. Biting her lip, she glared at him. “You do not play fair.”
He smiled with wicked knowledge. “You do not want me to play fair, darling. You revel in wickedness as much as I.” Demonstrating, he rotated his thumb inside her. Kat bit back a groan and he smiled in satisfaction. “So why not just sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”
Relax? Now she knew he was mad. Without preamble, he withdrew his thumb and ran it down her slick channel. His thumb smoothed back up her swollen folds, then flicked and massaged the gem nestled at the top. The flesh filled with blood, throbbing, and her stomach quivered. Desire slicked her thighs. All the while Alex held her gaze. Blue embers sparked in his eyes, conveying his pleasure at her physical response and his own painful excitement.
His fingers plunged inside her, setting up a bold rhythm, flaying her senses, heating her blood. She held her breath, trying to appear as if naught more stimulating than conversation enthralled her. But a trickle of sweat rolled down her cleavage, her skin flushed with desire, and her heart beat like a drum against her chest.
Her left hand lay in her lap, her fingers curled as though to hold onto her sanity. The empty cup fell from her other hand and rolled over. In the distance the sounds of children laughing, a crowd applauding, faded as she fell into a carnal void where only pleasure existed.
Kat gasped.
She felt it coming, the tang of ale on her tongue. Kat clutched a clump of grass to keep her hips from surging up into his marauding fingers.
Felt the mad rush of desire. To reach the summit. Plunge over into the dark abyss.
It was coming. Aye. Just a little closer it neared.
Higher.
Higher. Breathing. Faster.
Higher.
Panting, unable to catch breath. It was there. The edge.
Coming.
Closer. Higher.
Fingers deeper.
Coming. The edge.
Oh God. Help me
.
Her inner muscles contracted, and she soared over the abyss. Bucking into his hand, shoving his fingers deeper.
With her eyes open, she stared into his midnight depths. A swift gush of desire drenched his hand and her thighs, feminine muscles quivering, shaking, weeping. Spent.
Kat slumped against the tree, dazed. A pale pink petal drifted down and landed in her lap.
“God, you are amazing, Kat.” Alex’s eyes burned with unfulfilled desire, but with exquisite gentleness, he wiped the corner of her eye with his finger.
She blinked, realizing a tear fell. The sounds of the faire returned in a loud crescendo, like a sudden call to battle, destroying their pleasurable idyll. Kat reddened, cursing her waywardness and lapse of control. She did not like the power Alex had over her body.
Sitting up, back stiff, she brushed out her skirts, refusing to look at him. She was afraid that when the time came to make the right choice, lust would win out. But she would not let it. She needed to keep reminding herself passion faded. What really mattered was who would make the best husband and father of her future children.
“Kat?”
He shifted beside her then cupped her jaw, forcing her to meet his intense blue gaze. “I didn’t intend for that to happen. But I am not sorry. I will
not
apologize for an honest expression of my love for you. You were just sitting there, looking so lovely, a smear of fruit on your delectable lips and I,” Alex shrugged, “…I could not help myself.”
Love
. Kat stared, trying to probe his gaze, sure she heard wrong. Then Alex looked away and the moment was gone. Smiling, he helped her to her feet and hooked his arm through hers. “I promised you a day of amusement, my lady. And I always keep my promises. So, what would you like to do first? Your pleasure awaits.”
For the first time, Kat felt on more stable ground, for Alex had made a most revealing comment. To a man, love was often confused with desire, but, more importantly, Alex also said, “I could not help myself.” So, obviously, he too lacked control over his desire for her.
Could it be Alex was coming to love her? If so, she must do whatever it took to protect her heart. Aye. She would never make the mistake of falling in love with Alex ever again. The pain was just too unbearable. But that did not mean he could not fall in love with her.
Alex took great pleasure watching Kat as they browsed the merchant stalls. She was attracted to bold, vivid colors and touched everything. They stood now at a silk merchant’s stall, and as if he was not hard enough, Alex watched as she ran her hand over rich silks, brocades and velvets. Glad he was that the day was still cool and his mantle covered his embarrassment.
He was also glad Kat had missed his little slip earlier. He was not yet ready to reveal to Kat that he was in love with her. For one thing, she still did not trust him and would not believe him, and another was that it would be disastrous if he confessed he loved her and then learned she could never return his love. It was a weakness he did not want exposed and he despised weakness. He had to be strong; never again would he be at the mercy of another, stripped of dignity and honor and pride.
Slinging his arm around Kat, he guided her towards the sound of a rowdy crowd a short distance away from the tents. People hovered closely together to view some spectacle, making it impossible for him to see what the attraction was. However, Alex heard the shouts and cheers as bets were called out on the outcome of some sport. “What do you suppose is going on over there?” he wondered aloud.
Kat glanced up at him and grinned, excited, a curious light igniting her eyes. “I was wondering the same thing. Shall we find out?”
By mutual accord they shoved their way to the front of the crowd, but before they made it the sounds of growling mastiffs reached Alex’s ears. He cursed under his breath. Although his view was still blocked, he was sure now of what
sport
drew the crowd. Kat’s shoulders stiffened beneath his arm, and he realized she, too, understood the significance of the dogs. But it was too late to turn back as the crowd closed in and they were propelled forward.
Jostled, Alex tightened his hold on Kat and elbowed aside the stocky man who swayed drunkenly against him. The man grumbled and glared up at him. Alex was surprised to discover it was Lord Calvert, his face twisted in hatred. Alex placed his hand on his sword, holding the man’s stare until the oaf stumbled away, cursing.
No sooner had he left than the space opened up in front of Alex, revealing the underground stone foundations of a long abandoned round tower. It held a huge brown bear, its hind leg tied to a stake in the center of the makeshift bear pit. Wounds covered the bear’s face and body—gashes, new ones red and open and raw, along with older, healed wounds. And one of his ears was missing.
Kat gasped, the sound quickly drowned out amidst the shouts of bettors calling for the death or victory of the bear. Off to the side, two men conversed near a set of steps dug into the earth. The steps led down to a locked door and entrance of the bear pit. Wearing a green felt hat, the younger man held the leashes of three large mastiffs. He nodded at the older man, the ward of the bear, who turned and walked down the steps.
Kat looked up at Alex, tears of anger in her eyes. “That poor bear. Tied to a stake and set upon by mastiffs trained to go for the bear’s throat and kill him. Bear baiting! ’Tis such a cruel sport, I despise it.”
While Kat had been speaking, the bear ward unlocked the door.
The mastiffs and bear were both trained to kill. Bears were brutally mistreated, specifically to make them extremely vicious and, therefore, more entertaining to watch.
Grim, Alex nodded. “Aye, there is naught sporting in pitting two courageous animals against one another for entertainment. Come, let us go, there is an opening over here.”
The dogs were released and their excited barks filled the air. The crowd roared its approval, shouting out encouragement to their chosen victor as though the animals could understand. Pulling Kat close against his chest, Alex used his free hand to clear a path. Angry shouts followed him, but died away as the disgruntled spectators quickly turned back, unwilling to miss the fight.
The bear roared, and in morbid fascination, Alex looked back. He watched as a huge paw swiped out, flaying the lead mastiff aside. The other dogs were on the bear the next moment and Alex turned away, unable to watch the senseless carnage.