Seduced Page 8

  If he had not covered her mouth with his hand and then his lips, she would have shrieked as loudly as any wild creature. They fought together until her climax neared the end. His thrusts became wild and abandoned. Her tension built again to a feverish pitch. Their bodies slammed against each other like one tried to devour the other.

  Letia had no need to fight to keep him within her when he reached his peak. He too, was mindless with passion. Her body pulsated and squeezed around him, draining him.

  As his seed pumped from him, so did his energy. He sighed and lowered his head beside hers on the pillow, his tarse still throbbing inside her. Gradually, she felt its size diminish. She dared not move until sure he slept. She feared his racing heartbeat had processed the potion quickly out of his system. If she disturbed him afore he slept soundly, he might awaken.

  He would trap her beneath him.

  She counted to one hundred. Moved her legs. He mumbled something, his face in her hair.

  Counted to two hundred.

  Heaven help her. Would he strangle her if dawn came and he spied her there?

  She decided to make it three hundred.

  Ah. His breath was even and deep. His body was pliant. Finally, she worked her lower body from beneath him. Her toes sought the side of the bed, then her ankles. She wriggled her feet and inched further away until the backs of her knees reached the edge.

  Raik had such a grasp on her upper body that she had to work her way from beneath the arm over her chest, his hand tucked beneath her pillow. Finally, she angled her legs and buttocks over the side of the bed until she slipped over the silky sheets onto the floor. Scrambling to her knees, she felt around and grabbed her cloak.

  Maud must have heard her.

  She opened the door and Letia fled the room.

  o0o

  The sun had already started to lighten the sky when Raik opened his eyes. Always, he awoke afore it even thought on rising. His body felt heavy. Tired, even. He stretched, puzzling over it. He remembered the exercises he had done yesterday, the sit-up, the squats...

  His lids flew wide open and he sat upright so fast his head near exploded. Pressing both hands to his temples, he held on as if his scalp would take off and fly through the window opening to flap a greeting at the mourning doves.

  Jezu! How much wine had he drunk last night? He gripped himself tighter, trying to quell his raging headache.

  Hades! Why was he so tired? His arms and legs felt like he had battled the night through.

  Battled. The woman. She had been here again. Today, he was surer than yestermorn that a woman had joined him in the night.

  He lowered his hands. His eyes squinted and looked slowly around him on the bed. It could not be. The sheets were taut. The blanket neatly folded at the foot where he had placed it.

  He eased his legs over the side of the bed and stood. And looked around. Not one thing out of place.

  He picked up the other pillow. Crisp, clean linen covered it as if it had not moved even the slightest after he went to bed.

  His own looked like he had wrestled with it.

  Picking it up, he held it to his face. Again, the soft scent of lilies drifted from it. His eyes narrowed. Somehow, someone had given him a potion. For what purpose? He traced back over everything that had happened since the evening meal. Everything he had eaten.

  Nothing had tasted other than it should. And he had felt no effects after eating and drinking. Hm. Afore he slept both nights, cheese and wine had made a light repast. He closed his eyes, remembering the taste of the wine. Sweet. Full. Heavy? Something was different.

  He squinted, thinking. He could not put his finger on it. His lips pressed into a thin line, remembering he had started yawning soon after drinking it. And when he had lain down, he had noted the flashing lights behind his closed eyes as he faded into sleep.

  Ha! Could they be drugging him to keep him from escaping during the night? Why? Seton had guards aplenty to keep him to this room.

  And the woman? He could still smell and feel her soft skin touching his. Could feel her firm breasts as he molded them. He cupped his hands and held them over his nose. His heart thudded. His cock jerked.

  The scent of a woman's amorous flesh. Lifting his arm, he sniffed its length. The faint perfume of lilies. He had thought he imagined the woman afore. Even that he had conjured her in his mind. 'Twas no dream, but a flesh and blood woman who had lain with him.

  The most desirable woman he had ever touched, had ever longed for, was not in his imagination.

  Raik's lips pressed tight. His eyes narrowed. The muscles in his face became taut.

  He had spilled his seed in her. Twice.

  He, who had vowed never to do such. Was she fertile?

  His hands fisted. His nails dug into his palms.

  She was real. He would find her.

  And when he did...

  CHAPTER 12

  Raik spent the morning talking with all who happened near his chamber, from the servants who brought his porridge to the laundress when she came to freshen his bedding.

  She spoke freely enough when he queried her about the baron. It did not take him long to guess she had a special fondness for him.

  "Our baron was friends with Lady Letia's father, Alwen of Northumbria. They stopped a rebellion against King Henry. When they returned, they found Baron Alwen's castle invaded.

  "While they fought their way to the solar, Lady Letia's mother and sister were there. Men held hot pokers aside their necks to keep them still."

  She would have stopped there, but Raik kept his gaze on hers, willing her with his eyes to finish.

  "Where was Lady Letia?"

  "Maud hid her in a secret space within the walls. After they took her out, she was speechless for days. When she finally spoke, she begged her father to let her learn skills to protect herself. Baron de Burgh persuaded him 'twas best to do."

  Raik started to probe further about Letia, but the sound of horses' hooves clattered on the cobblestones below. She jumped and headed for the door.

  "I had best be about my duties. A man will bring yer bath afore long."

  She was gone from the room by the time he reached the window opening. There below him, his horse trotted through the gatehouse.

  "Satan's turds! That fashious woman is riding Storm."

  Raik slapped his hands on the stone opening, leaned out as far as he could and bellowed. "Cursed Satan's tu... arse! Get ye back with my horse."

  Never had he seen such a troublesome woman. Nor one so bold she would dare to seize a man's horse. In angry frustration, he tore his fingers through his hair near pulling strands out by the roots.

  Warin rode close behind Letia, his sword strapped to his side. Giles followed with a bow and quiver of arrows. What foolishness was she up to now? A red dotted cloth tied to the saddle horn. Meat?

  Archers lined the barbican walkway, their stance watchful. 'Twas obvious whatever they were about, the woman shouldn't be there. Anger at Warin rumbled up in a vicious growl from his chest. Was the man so weak he had no control over his foolish wife?

  Raik spied the injured beast creeping from the trees beyond. It seemed more aggressive than the day before. Its lips curled back from large, menacing teeth. Its nose wrinkled. Raik couldna hear the sounds, but he knew from the lowered head, the bunched shoulders, that the black beast snarled, ready to leap if the humans rode too close.

  If Storm had even one scratch on him when they returned, he would shake the lady till her teeth rattled. He grunted. But first, he would blacken Warin's eyes.

  The creature took a step forward, pushing low branches away. He howled when they snapped back against his dragging leg. The baron drew his sword. He raised his left arm in the air, his hand flat with fingers raised in a signal to the archers.

  Lady Letia rode forward, halving the distance between herself and the beast. She tossed her offering to the ground then quickly wheeled Storm as expertly as any warrior would and thundered away. Raik's eyes
narrowed in grudging respect for her skill.

  When the beast made no effort to charge after her, the baron lowered his arm. Giles kept still, his eyes watching the beast as the baron and Lady Letia rode back to the drawbridge. When they reached it, the baron called out to Giles, and he too, returned.

  Why did they not go within the curtain walls? He ground his teeth, wanting to shout his anger. Storm was unused to anyone other than Raik on his back. The great horse could have thrown her to the ground and broken her fool neck! 'Twas an outrage the baron had allowed anyone to ride another man's mount. That a woman did so pricked Raik's temper to such fury, he wished his eyes could burn holes in the back of the woman's sky-blue kirtle.

  "I hope I did not put overmuch sleeping potion in the meat." Letia nibbled on her thumb, watching as the big head began to droop. The dog shook itself, lifted his black snout and howled again.

  "This dog is the biggest I have ever seen. If not for his color, I would say he was a large wolf." Warin patted her arm then gently lowered her hand from her mouth. He eyed Giles waiting beside them. "Hm. He must weigh near as much as Giles here."

  "Oh, the indignity of it! You compared me to a wild animal," Giles said, grinning.

  "Huh!" Lydia shook her head. "I think it no insult. That dog must have been wondrous afore being so badly mistreated."

  She looked at Giles then back at the dog, now sprawled on its side.

  "I used near half of what would be needed to bring you to your sleep, Giles."

  Letia's back burned, but not from strain controlling the huge, light-brown horse. She knew the steed's owner was most likely frothing at the mouth because she sat upon his steed. She squared her shoulders as Warin turned and bellowed to the men waiting beneath the gatehouse.

  "Bring the carrier. He sleeps."

  They rode back to the animal, but kept their distance until they studied him. His eyes had closed. His tongue lolled from his mouth. Loud, raspy breathing kept to a deep, steady rhythm. Letia nodded, satisfied.

  Four men arrived with a carrier used for injured warriors. One man moved close to the fallen animal when Letia nodded. He gently nudged the furry shoulder blade with his boot and jumped back. The dog did not move. The men spread the carrier on the ground and started to roll the sleeping dog onto it.

  They jumped backward and near fell over themselves when they disturbed the injured leg and the dog thrashed about. His strange, yellow eyes opened mere slits; his jaws opened much wider. Both sides of his mouth were torn. Had someone forced chains between his jaws too? Then taunted him with food? After he again settled down, they lifted the four ends of the poles and carried the beast to the stable.

  As she rode past the keep, she tried to keep her eyes lowered. She could not. Some force willed her to look upward. The harder she fought it, the stronger was the urge to do so. She gulped and took one quick glance at the window above. The Scotsman stood there, his arms crossed.

  If fury were a color, a red haze would surround him. Muscles bulged in his forearms as if he fought the desire to strike her. One quick glance at his face was near her undoing.

  The force of his stormy blue glare was so near a physical thing that she fought not to sway in the saddle. She gritted her teeth, looked straight ahead and continued to the stable.

  A stall, with higher walls and gate than customary, stood off to itself. Sleeping quarters for the stable hands divided it from the horse stalls. They carried the beast there and lowered it to the straw covered floor.

  "Remove the poles but do not move him." Letia waited until the men left the enclosure then motioned to a stalwart slinger to come to her.

  "We need your aid to tie strips of leather around his front legs and then secure his snout."

  The freckles across the red-haired warrior's nose looked darker than usual. He hesitated, then clamped his jaws together and swallowed before kneeling. Warin held the dog's head up as the man did as she bid.

  When he was done, Letia worked fast, not wanting the beast to awaken before she was through. It took longer than she had expected, though. Warin aided her when he could. 'Twas his decision to leave the chain around the dog's neck for now. The skin was too raw to take a chance for the blacksmith to cut it free. She coated the black neck with salves that would at least start the skin to healing then concentrated on the rest of its injuries.

  "Julian's men must have secured the dog's chains to a post." Warin shook his head in sympathy. "No doubt they tormented the helpless beast with swords or spears."

  "Aye. At least his smaller wounds are clean." She carefully treated each one. "Ugh. I hate maggots." She swallowed and steeled herself. "Much as I dislike them, 'tis a good thing they have eaten away the dead flesh."

  She shuddered as she cleaned the maggots and bits of dirt and leaves from the yawning wound on the animals flesh. Earlier, she had boiled water and steeped herbs in it, which she used to flush the wounds clean. Starting at his back and around to his groin, she stitched the flesh together.

  Warin kept a steady hand on the big, black head as she worked. It took as many stitches as she had sewn on the Scot's shoulder. Much less fancy, though. This flesh required speed, not delicate mending.

  "You must hurry. He begins to awake," Warin warned.

  She hurriedly coated her work with healing salves and settled back on her haunches. She could do no more.

  Letia talked and rubbed the black head all the while Warin and Giles untied the leather straps holding him.

  "Were you Freki, Woden's wolf, and not an earthly hound, his ravens would have warned him you required aid." Letia shook her head at the silliness of her words. "I shall call you Freki. Such great size deserves a great name."

  As if he sensed her words, he took a deep breath then opened yellow eyes to blink sleepily at her.

  Giles set a large wooden bowl filled with water within the dog's reach and placed scraps the servants had collected from the evening meal beside it. Warin helped her to rise and they hurried from the stall. Piers swung the tall gate closed and latched it. Fearing it would not be enough should the beast become enraged, he placed a heavy board in the braces at either side of the gate. They used it to keep unruly destrier's from kicking it open, so surely it would contain the beast.

  o0o

  Raik paced his chamber. Hearing someone approach, he stormed over to the door, his muscles tensing. When it opened, he expected Lady Letia coming to check his wounds. Instead, Maud appeared, walking with a crisp, no-foolishness manner.

  "Where is yer lady?" His arms, folded across his chest, twitched as he strained to appear relaxed and keep them clasped there.

  "Do you think Lady Letia has naught else to do but care for your ills?"

  "Ha! I know too well your lady spends her time doing things that rightly only a man should." He lost his fight with his arms as he threw up his hands in disgusted irritation.

  "Sit." She pointed to the chair with a demanding finger. "If you go about waving your arms enough to create a wind, you'll ruin the lady's fine stitching."

  He sat.

  His forced his face to relax and softened his tone. "Once ye are done, I must have words with Baron de Burgh."

  "The baron has retired. Leofwan is outside if ye require man talk."

  "I dinna want Leofwan and I dinna want man talk!"

  Maud rolled her eyes at him and frowned.

  "Shush!"

  Raik's eyes widened. She shushed him like he was a Halfling! Not since he was a boy half grown had anyone dared to do so. To his surprise, he pressed his lips together and stifled an angry retort.

  He tried to make eye contact with her when she questioned him about his wound.

  "Does this pain you?" She softly prodded the swollen flesh on either side of the stitches.

  He held his answer so she would look up at him to see why. He would hold her gaze when she did.

  She didn't. She shrugged and kept her eyes on her hands as she changed his dressing and bandaged his shoulder. Huh? Had she heard
tales about him? She stood and gathered her things.

  "'Tis good you are saving your words. Likely your throat hurts from screaming and throwing a fit like Thomas when he dropped his sweet tart in mud this noon," she said.

  On her way out the door, she muttered about men having the temper of unruly boys.

  Raik's face heated. After the noon meal, he had watched the children jumping in and out of puddles. One small boy, holding a pasty in his fist, fell on his arse. The tart flew out of his hand and landed in the mud. The lad threw himself on his back, kicking and screaming, splattering the other children who had circled around him to watch the display.

  Raik ground his teeth together.

  No doubt, that had been Thomas.

  CHAPTER 13

  In her solar, Letia rested her neck against a drying cloth folded on the back edge of the wooden bathing tub. Maud had placed it there so she could brush Letia's hair afore washing it. She was more tired than usual this eve. She had no need to think on why. The hot water relaxed sore muscles that made her flush with shame on knowing why they ached.

  These last two nights with Raik were more reason than riding his great horse astride. Storm was much like his master. Headstrong and determined against a woman's control. She had ridden him before in the far pasture where Raik could not see them from his window.

  No doubt, if he had witnessed the time and struggle it had taken her to gain control over the horse, he would have leaped from the window and throttled her with his big hands.

  Well, Hades. Why did she have to go and think of Raik's hands? To look at them, one expected they would be hard. Cruel. Not so when they caressed her shoulders, her breasts. Not even when he held her hips, forcing her to keep to a slow rhythm last eve when she fought him to gain her release.

  She blinked, hard, squeezing her eyes tight to keep from picturing it. Was it the heat of the water or her thoughts that made her pulsate below?