Warrior's Deception (17 page)

She nodded, pulled the chair from him and took her seat. From the drawer of the table she pulled the white stones and placed them on the board. Roen grabbed the black and listened to her explanation while he placed his stones.

“Father has always been a man with a lot of energy. During times of war, he could burn off most of it, but in the winter, or in between battles, he needed something to exercise his mind as well as his body. This table and chair were his first projects. He carved the game into the top when he finished and taught me to play.”

The words communicated volumes about her relationship with her father. Old resentment stirred in Roen’s breast. He closed his eyes and forced his anger to dissipate. “I see. Did he make many other things?”

“A few. They’re scattered about the castle.”

“Well, I’m sure his craftsmanship improved with practice.”

Lenora placed her finger on her mouth to stifle a smile. A delightful laugh escaped her full lips. “Nay, it did not. Louis and I would marvel at how the man could work so hard and never get better. But it kept him happy and that was the purpose. Whatever he made, I saw the beauty in it.”

Roen halted in the placement of his stones. His heart ached for lost relationships. He could have given his true father that kind of love and devotion, if his mother had told him the man’s name.

“Are you ready? Do you still wish to play?”

Roen pulled the familiar armor he wore around his heart back into place. The pain fought its customary imprisonment but he held strong and refused to allow the torturous boyhood hurts to escape. He looked across at Lenora’s face, guarded now as she saw his face reflect the emotions in his heart. Christ’s blood, this woman was his wife. What did he care if she came to his bed willing or not? By the vows of marriage, he had the right to take her, use her as he wished.

A low growl escaped his lips. Lenora did not rise or look frightened. Instead a devilish grin brightened her face. “So, you’ve seen your mistake. Too late.” She moved one of her stones forward.

Roen slapped his forehead when he saw her capture one of his game pieces. In one swoop, she had managed to take a lead
in the game. The spirit of competition defeated the pain of his childhood abuse. His vigilance returned to the game.

“Care for a small wager on the outcome?”

“Nay, hush, woman.” Roen studied the board. Three concentric squares marked the boundaries. The object of the game was to sandwich the opponent’s men on either side with one’s own stones, thereby capturing them. The winner was the one who seized all of the stones.

“Are you sure? Perhaps something small. I wouldn’t want to take all of your belongings.”

“Will you hush?” Roen saw her strategy quickly. She baited him with the hope he’d make another blunder. Two could play that game. “Aye, I’ll wager. If you win, I’ll give you a pretty bauble.”

“I don’t want pretty baubles.”

“Then what is it you wish?”

She paused, then the words raced out. “If I win, you will not sleep with me this night. You will stay in the room, but not touch me.”

Roen sucked in air. Her eyes showed her fright; his crime had marked her more than he knew. But he needed to show her that lovemaking could be satisfying between a man and a woman. If he didn’t, she would wind up like Beatrice, afraid of every man who passed.

“Agreed. But if I win, you must join me in bed, a willing partner.”

“You cannot bet a person’s feelings.”

“I did not say you need to want me, just that you’re willing.” Roen counted on his expertise in the game, as well as the bed, to make the wager prove fruitful for him.

He could see her mull over the choices. “Agreed.” His eyebrows shot up at her quick concordance. “I’ve few choices at the moment.” She stuck out her hand.

He wrapped his strong fingers around her long, slender ones and gave them a slightly intimidating squeeze while he shook her hand vigorously. “I agree to your conditions.”

“If you wish, we may begin again,” Lenora offered. She tried to pull her hand from his, but he did not release it.

Roen’s pride in his wife swelled. “Nay, we will continue with this game.” His thumb caressed her hand, then with reluctance
he broke the physical link with her. She lowered her eyes and studied the board.

He turned his attention to the game, as well. Each square had space for three stones. Of the nine stones he began with, only eight remained. Lenora still possessed all nine. Roen dragged a stone to a new position. Without removing his contact from the stone, he reevaluated his location.

“How long is this going to take you?” Lenora queried.

Roen removed his finger, hesitated, then settled back. “Your turn.”

She moved her stone with no deliberation. “Now, ‘tis yours.”

He eyed the board with more care. Desperate to understand her motives, he scrutinized every possible move. None would attain a badly needed capture. He began to move but stopped when she hid her grin with her hand. Again he looked over the board, blind to the mistake he must be making. He decided to move another man to his second-choice position.

Her hand slid the white stone without hesitation. The move showed forethought. One more turn and she would have yet another of his black stones.

Roen began to sweat. She had bluffed him into a mistake. To win, he needed to play offense instead of defense. Forced to concentrate on the board, he tried to keep his eyes from the innocent-looking deceiver seated across from him. He made a bold move, although it would mean the loss of a black stone.
Take the bait,
he prayed.

“You lose another.” She swept up the black stone with a gleeful chuckle.

He moved his piece and captured his first white stone. “There, at least I have one.”

Lenora did not fold quickly. “You’ve still a long way to catch me.” She moved her piece, then realized the trap he had laid.

Another white stone vanished from the board. With her elbows resting on the table, she placed her chin in her hand. Her glorious hair formed a veil over her shoulders. She wrapped and unwrapped a curl around her finger. The loose neckline of her chemise dropped a fraction lower. Roen scanned the milky flesh and experienced renewed determination to win. The prize across the table tempted him too much to consider a loss.

Minutes dragged by as each played their turn and the number of stones dwindled. Finally, each was left with only three stones.

“Ready to give up?” he asked as he moved his man to a mark.

“Nay, I should ask that of you.” Cagey, she retreated from him.

“I’m surprised, most women I know are ready to run from a fight.” A black stone moved.

“But I’m not like most women,” Lenora warned, and took her turn.

“I pray not,” Roen whispered under his breath. His move ended the game. He picked up the white stone, warm from her touch. The game was over, Lenora could not win.

She conceded with a silent nod of her head, no tears or pleas. Instead, she rose and took determined steps toward the bed. Lenora stretched out stiffly on the bed, her face a mask of fortitude. Her arms tight at her sides, eyes screwed shut, she waited for him, willing to endure his attentions but not wanting them. Roen had won the game but the prize still eluded him.

“Nora, open your eyes,” Roen chided gently, then sat on the bed at her side. His fingers trailed up and down her arm in a light, teasing caress.

“Nay, I will not. Be done with this. And my name is Lenora.”

“Have it your way, but I would think you would like to know what is going to happen to you.”

“I already know. What!” Her eyes flew open and Roen chuckled. His thumb continued its slow, complete massage of her nipple. Its stiff peak jutted from beneath the silky folds of her chemise.

“Do you know, Nora? Our first union did not leave time for me to enjoy all the curves and parts of your body fully. Tonight, I have a soft bed, hours of time—-” he looked deep into her eyes “—and a willing woman. Nay, wife, there is still much to teach you.” His hand stretched the flimsy material tight across her aroused breast. His mouth enveloped the mound, his tongue swirled around and across the hardened nipple. Shivers raced up her arm and her fingers dug into the blankets.

“I do not think this is…is…is proper.”

Roen chuckled. “Nay, ‘tis not.” He moved his lips from her bosom to the hollow of her throat. Her skin smelled of roses. The sweetness of her body beckoned him to devour; instead he savored. His mouth sucked gently on her jawline and moved to her lips.

Her eyes wide open now, Lenora looked straight at the ceiling. Roen’s face blotted the view, and his gray blue eyes met hers. Her heart pounded and a frustrating ache began to take root. His long body covered hers. The warmth of his chest and the tight fit of his hips against her legs made thinking difficult. She took in air but her body hungered for more.

Roen drew her lower lip in his mouth and softly tugged on it She pushed herself down deep into the plush coverlets to avoid the onslaught of his lips. He captured hers easily, his tongue entered her mouth and skated across her teeth. It teased her tongue. When she tried to force him from the interior of her mouth, his tongue jousted with hers. Her arms rose to encircle him, but she fought to bring them back, tight to her sides.

Her husband’s head lifted, a crooked smile on his lips, the rare dimples transforming his face to an expression of boyish pleasure. “Go ahead, Nora, give in. Your body remembers the pleasures I gave it. There’s more, much more.” His hand moved down her side, across the swell of her hips, and splayed out across her thigh. His fingers left hot trails of passion and a desire to have Roen’s lips retrace his movements.

“Nay, I cannot.” Lenora shook her head.

His lips burrowed into her hair and his breath tickled the fine hair that framed her face. “Let yourself go, Nora, you’re allowed to enjoy this. I can make it so that this act between us is filled with pleasure. There’ll be no pain now, I promise.”

Tears came to her eyes, she shook her head again and scrunched up the red velvet coverlet in her hands. No pain, more pleasure…The last time she had joined with this man, merged her soul with his. If he gave her more, could she ever regain it back?

“Galliard, I cannot. This act, it leaves me adrift, like a boat with no mooring. I need something to hold on to.”

Roen’s lips stopped their sensuous path across her face. Warm teal eyes bored into hers. “The past is gone, our future lies ahead. We are married now, wife. Let us put aside our differences
and start anew.” He kissed away a tear from Lenora’s face. His voice became tight with emotion. “And if you feel the need of support, I will be here for you, as you were for me this night. If the need arises, hold on to me, Nora.”

Her fingers uncurled. Unsure of her decision, she lifted them and placed her hands on his sides. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. Each finger felt the suction of his full mouth, then her palm. The knot of her chemise gave way, baring her breasts. Her husband did not touch her, only stared at her body.

“Is something amiss?”

Roen smiled and shook his head. “Nay, they are perfect.” His hand slid down her breastbone to the flatness of her abdomen. She gasped when his hand rested on the soft curls between her legs. Then arched as he reached inside. She felt her body’s eagerness to welcome him. Warmth flooded over her and the aching need for more inflamed her.

Roen poised above her, his weight on his arms. “Now we are truly wed, Nora.” He entered the cavity and felt the tightness of her womb surround the sheath of his manhood. Surges of hot, wet fluid bathed him and nearly ripped all conscious thought from him.

He fought his baser instincts to ram into her until his need was spent. Instead, he began a slow, rhythmic dance, allowing her to grow accustomed to his size and presence. He felt her tension lessen when she realized there would be no virginal pain.

Soft, throaty whimpers filled his ears when he moved inside of her. His pace quickened. Her whimpers changed to moans as her body’s passion erupted. She arched her back. He kissed the aroused nipples of her breasts. Her fingernails dug into his back and her long, slender legs tightened around his waist. With a primal roar he plunged into her. Falling. Joining. Interweaving his self with hers. Bursts of soaring elation poured into him as he gave forth his seed into his wife’s womb.

Shudders of excruciating release coursed through Lenora. Roen held her tightly as she felt both of them reach the summit of their passion. She could not stop herself from clinging to him. The smoky smell of his hair, the sharp, salty taste of his skin, the reassuring weight of his body on her own comforted
her. His hands cradled her as though she might break if squeezed too hard.

She did not speak, could find no words. Emptiness invaded her as he eased from her. Rolling to his side, Roen slipped his arm beneath her head and drew her close.

“Nora, are you well?” His concerned eyes searched her face.

“Aye, I’m well, very well.” She yawned and snuggled up close to his side. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and stared at him somberly. “Roen, is this what it’s like between a man and a woman?”

Roen chuckled. “Nay, wife. I would wager there’s not many a man or woman who has experienced mating like we have.”

“This is not the usual way a man and woman join?”

“Oh, the act is common enough, but the passion our bodies feel for each other, that is unique.”

“Then, if we were to do this again, it might not be the same?” Her voice sounded wistful.

Grinning, Roen looked down at Lenora’s swollen lips, her face radiant from his lovemaking, and responded, “I venture ‘tis only one way to find out?”

“How is that?”

Roen began to stroke her back. “We’ll just have to try it again and see.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then creased into laughter. “Well then, husband, proceed with your experiment. I am most curious to discover the answer.”

Roen’s lips slanted over hers and he marveled that he could want her again so quickly. Tonight he would have her again and again. He would preserve this capsule of time for as long as possible. On the morrow, the desire that filled her eyes now would turn to hate. For some reason, this thought caused his desire to flare even more intensely, as though his body realized what it stood to lose, even if his heart was afraid to admit it.