Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
He took her face in his hands and tenderly caressed her cheeks. "You will not have to, Milady. I would rather die in exile, an outcast, than give you up again."
He let go of her hand and crossed his arms to grasp the bottom of his shirt, tugging it fiercely from his breeches and over his head in one lithe movement. He watched her as she stepped hurriedly out of her gown and dainty underclothes. His hands jerked at his belt, ripping it from his breeches. His fingers tore through his buttons until he had them undone, then his boots and breeches followed.
She came to him as a soft blessing, falling slowly to her knees before him in offering. He turned her so her body lay upon the spongy bed of moss. With infinite care, he covered her body with his own. Easing her thighs apart to accommodate his length, he settled his body gently on hers.
"I have waited so long," he sighed. "So very, very long." His body throbbed against hers.
She covered his lips with her fingertips and shook her head. Now was no time for words of love. Now was the time for lovemaking.
His hands held her head still so his mouth could plunder the sweetness of her lips. He moved against her, growling deep in his throat as her legs came up to clasp themselves around his hips.
"Liza," he breathed in, his heart thudding. "My Liza."
He had no need to guide himself to her, for the swell of his manhood found an unerring course to her secret warmth and slid home in one quick thrust.
Neither of them was prepared for the almost immediate release that shot through them to send them spiraling into space. The heady pleasure of their passion combined, traveled the same length of time and space, and burst simultaneously. He tore his mouth from hers, arched his head and cried out his release, his body shuddering hard, and long, deeply within hers.
* * *
A dove cooed in the distance as the late afternoon sun sank behind the trees, throwing scarlet prisms of light over the deep green of the pond’s surface. Somewhere further away another dove answered her mate’s mournful cry and the flutter of wings high overhead made the two drowsy lovers look up.
"Sated, Milady?" Conar asked the girl whose head lay on his shoulder, one of her hands caressing the patch of blond hair that rested between his breastbones.
Liza smiled, then yawned. "I think I shall never have my fill of you, Milord." She moved her attention to one hard pap and circled it with her finger. "Does that make me an uncommonly wicked bawd?"
"I would say, under the present circumstances, it makes you one with me, Milady." He squeezed her gently and laid his chin on her sleek hair. "I think I could love you every hour on the hour and never be sated."
"Just every hour, Milord?" she teased.
"How often would you like me to prove my love to you?" He planted a soft kiss on her hair.
"I was thinking along the lines of every ten minutes or so." She heard him snort and craned her head to look at him. "Too soon, Milord?"
"It takes time to…" Conar tried to think of a delicate way of phrasing his answer.
"Reload?" she furnished.
Conar chuckled. "I think that’s an apt word." He puckered his lips and blew in her hair.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Are you?" She bent her head to catch one of his paps between her pearly teeth. She smiled as she felt him suck in his breath.
"Am I what?" he whispered, his flesh shivering at the feeling she was causing as she flicked her tongue around his nipple.
Liza swirled her tongue around the erection of his pap and then grinned up at him. "Reloaded?"
Arching a brow, he laughed and proceeded to show her.
* * *
A rustling in the bushes brought Conar awake and alert. Instinctively, he glanced at the sleeping woman who lay curled against his side. As the noise broke through her slumber, Liza opened her eyes, but before she could question the sound, Conar placed a light hand over her mouth, cautioning her with his eyes to lie still. Easing his arm from under her shoulders, he came easily to his feet, his hand automatically reaching for the dagger that was his constant companion. Stabbing Liza’s gown with the tip, he tossed it over his shoulder to her, his eyes never leaving the place from where the rustling came.
Finding his breeches in the darkness, he pulled them on over his nakedness and stood, listening intently as the stealthy sound came closer. A gleam of metal through a nearby bush immediately caught his attention. He moved with the speed of a jungle cat, striking out with his fist on the back of a pale hand as it came out of the shrubs.
"Ah, hell!" The two words were followed by a vitriolic curse.
"Du Mer?" a voice Conar knew all too well whispered with concern.
"Was that Teal that yelped?" another voice hissed.
With a heavy sigh, Conar threw his dagger into the soft ground and sat beside Liza. " ’Tis that gods-be-damned brother of mine and half the fools of the Elite," he mumbled and turned to glare at the man who came crawling through the bushes on his knees.
"By the good gods, I swear…" Teal came up short as he looked into Conar McGregor’s scowling face. "Uh, oh," he mumbled.
"I’m gonna break your fool neck, du Mer!" Conar smiled sweetly through clenched teeth.
Legion plowed through the bushes, his sword held in front of him, a scowl of battle on his face. "Teal?" he shouted as though the man might well be on the other side of the world. "Are you in trouble? Are you attacked?" He skidded to a halt when he caught sight of Conar, spied the lady sitting with him. "You are in trouble, du Mer," he whispered.
"So are you!" Conar snapped.
"If I ever let you idiots talk me into going out in the middle of the night when I am barely sober, I swear I will…" The owner of the third voice ended on a loud belch as he stumbled into Legion’s back. "Damn it, A’Lex! Get the hell out of my way! How can I save du Mer when you’re blocking my gods-be-damned way?"
"Rayle," Legion softly warned as the man swung his huge head in Legion’s direction. Legion nodded toward Conar.
A happy grin lit Rayle Loure’s big face. "Hello, Commander. We’ve been searching for you!"
"I wasn’t aware I was lost," Conar growled.
"We were worried when you didn’t come back." Legion staggered to a nearby rock and plopped down, sticking his sword in the soft ground where it wavered back and forth. "No one seemed to know where you’d got off to."
Conar sent his brother a scathing look. "Did it ever occur to you that if I had wanted you to know where I was going, I’d have told you?"
Rayle Loure leaned against a tree and focused on Conar’s face in the darkness. "It wasn’t me that was worried about you, Commander." He hiccuped. " ’Tis you that should have been worrying about us, I reckon."
"And why is that, Rayle?" Conar inquired with a menacing snarl. "Could it be because the three of you wouldn’t make a whole?"
"Well, maybe not at the present time, no," Teal answered.
"By the gods, but I have a splitting headache," Rayle said miserably and slid down the tree trunk he had been leaning against, plopping heavily on the moss-covered ground.
Legion leaned forward and peered at Liza. "Who are you?"
"And I think I may well puke," Rayle added, burying his huge head in his hands and slowly shaking it. His long red pigtail wobbled.
"I think she’s Conar’s lady, A’Lex!" Teal piped up cheerfully, his words slurring.
"If, of course, I don’t pass out first," Rayle sighed, trying to still the rapidly dancing trees around him.
"Are you?" Legion asked Liza. "Are you the one all the fuss has been about?"
"Maybe I’ll just lie down and die, instead." Rayle burped. He crashed fully to the ground with a thud and began to snore.
Liza couldn’t help giggling, for the three men presented such a woebegone picture it was impossible to keep a straight face. "Your protectors, Milord?" she questioned with a raised brow.
With a snort of disgust, Conar stood and grabbed du Mer by the arm, jerking him to a half-standing position before propelling him backward into the pond, where he landed with a splash and a merry gurgle of mirth.
Before Rayle could react to Conar’s foot jamming into his ribcage, he rolled into the water to join Teal. "What?" the big man murmured before sinking beneath the waves. A brief gurgle of bubbles shot upward.
Turning, Conar walked slowly toward Legion, who stood on wavering legs. Holding up a restraining hand, Legion tried to glower at his younger brother. He wasn’t so sure his face obeyed the command. "I wouldn’t if I were you."
"I’d leave off, Milord, else you may join your friends in the water." Liza smiled as Legion sat on the ground beside her.
"A word to the wise, eh, lady?" Legion smiled.
"I’ve seen you fight, Milord."
Liza looked at Conar.
He glanced over as Teal and Rayle dragged themselves out of the pond. "You are a sorry lot," he snarled.
"I find them adorable." Liza grinned.
"Don’t encourage them, Liza." Conar kicked out with his foot as Rayle came to stand over him and shake his head to sprinkle Conar with icy drops of pond water. "Damn it, Loure!"
"Stop blustering and introduce us, Conar," Teal spoke up. "Where’s your courtly manners, man?" He plopped down on the rock that seemed to be everyone’s favorite seat.
"He has none," Legion snorted. "Never has."
Conar made a rude grunt. "The tall redhead is Rayle Loure. You remember him from the Hound and Stag."
"I don’t remember meeting this lady," Rayle said. He stooped to pick up some twigs and set about making a fire.
"He’s supposed to be my personal bodyguard." Conar snorted. "Sometimes I think it’s the other way around. Actually, the man’s not too bright."
Rayle waved his large fingers at her in greeting, scrunching up his shoulders. His big face became an elastic grin. "I’m older than all of these green boys!" he bragged. "You don’t have to be bright when you’re older." He puffed up his chest. "I’ve been an Elite longer than du Mer’s been out of diaper rings. I’ve been married ten years. Ten years!" he repeated then lowered his voice. "And to the same woman, too." He seemed to need to clarify his marriage. "I am six feet eight inches tall and nine inches in—"
"That’ll do, Rayle," Conar warned.
"See that ugly scar?" Teal chimed in, pointing to a long, jagged scar on Rayle’s forehead no one could possibly see in the darkness. "Got that protecting Conar, he did. Might not be too smart up here." Teal pointed to his temple. "But he’s got sense enough to protect Conar."
"You don’t have to be too bright to protect Conar," Legion mumbled.
Hearing Rayle gag, Liza looked over to see the big man twist sideways and vomit in the grass. "I have a remedy for that." She got up and walked to where her mare was tethered and removed a vial from her saddlebags.
"Kindly let the fools suffer, Liza," Conar told her as he rejoined them at the fire. "They brought it upon themselves." He sat by the blazing flames.
"One sip is all you should need," she told Rayle as she handed him the vial. She sat and leaned back into the comfort of Conar’s arms.
"Thank you, Sweeting," Rayle said, handing the vial to Teal. "If it were left to the Commander, we’d have surely died." He went back to fanning the fire into life.
"The night’s not over yet, Loure," Conar warned.
"You have such an evil disposition, Conar," Legion quipped as he took the vial from Teal. "How do you stand him, Mam’selle?" He handed her the empty vial. "Women usually can’t abide him for too long at the time."
"Be careful what you say to my woman, A’Lex," Conar told him, pulling Liza closer, resting his chin possessively on her gleaming hair.
Legion looked hard at his brother. The man was more than smitten with this girl; he was deeply in love. There was sure to be trouble whether Conar wanted it or not.
"There’s no need in branding her, Conar," Legion said softly. "We have no intention of stealing her from you." He watched a look of defiance cross his little brother’s face in the firelight.
"Just as long as you know to whom she belongs, there won’t be any trouble." Conar’s face was stern, untouched by the humor in Legion’s.
"Stop baiting me, brat," Legion said, returning Conar’s scowl. "If you glower at every man who stares at this lovely lady, you’ll go blind."
Liza’s lovely brow wrinkled with concern as she listened to the exchange. There was hostility flowing from Conar; resentment toward her from Legion.
"I will not be the cause of any strife between the two of you. If you can’t stop taunting one another, I will leave." She said it quietly, reasonably, but she was not prepared for Conar’s immediate reaction.
"The hell you will!" His arms tightened painfully around her in a steely, confining grip. "Your running days are over, Lady!"
A flicker of pain washed over Liza’s pretty face and she opened her mouth to speak, but Lord Legion’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere like a knife.
"Let go of her, Conar. You’re hurting her." Legion’s face was set with authority; his voice was hard and brooked no argument.
Conar shot a hateful glare to Legion before he turned Liza around to face him. "I am not going to let you leave me ever again. Is that clear?"
"Not for awhile—"
"Not ever again, Liza!" he shouted. Oblivious to the others staring at him, he locked his gaze with hers. "Swear it! Swear to me that you will never leave me again, Liza!" When she kept silent, he shook her. "I said, swear it!"
"Conar!" Legion’s angry voice boomed. "Let the lady go! Can’t you see you are hurting her?" He stood, hovering over the couple with rage on his handsome face.
"I can’t, Milord," Liza whispered. "You know I can’t swear such to you."
"Yes, you can!" Conar yelled, but she shook her head in denial.
"Let her go, Conar," Legion snapped. "Now!"
Cursing vilely under his breath, Conar bounded to his feet, dragging Liza with him, and shoved Legion out of his way. He turned a hard stare to Rayle, pushing Liza toward the tall guard. His teeth were tightly clenched as he spoke.
"Make sure she goes nowhere! On your miserable life, Loure, she had better be here when I get back!"