Heath did not flinch as her small deft stitches closed the gaping cut. He did momentarily lose his erection, but the minute he felt her fingers gently rubbing on the yarrow mixture, his desire flared up again, hot and hard.
Raven focused on the flesh beneath her fingers, willing it to heal, seeing it heal in her mind's eye, then actually feeling the skin become smooth and firm again. For a few unbelievable moments she merged with the powerful male who stood before her; she felt the stinging pain of the shoulder, then she experienced the flaring desire that consumed him. She released him instantly, as if she had been burned, and stepped back.
“You are beautiful in your witchery,” he murmured low.
Raven felt that he was the one casting the bewitching spell. She broke it quickly before he could read her thoughts. “You should rest; put no exertion upon your shoulder. To sleep is to heal.” Then she casually changed the subject. “Your sister has invited me to sup with her and Ada tonight; I have been looking forward to the female company.”
Raven walked over to the settle and picked up her cloak and with it, the key. She willed him to let her go, and exhaled a long sigh of relief when he did not stop her from leaving the tower.
The iron key felt heavy in her hand as Raven walked quickly, summoning her confidence, focusing on her power, determined that this time she would not lose her way. She believed her biggest problem would be to convince Christopher to leave her behind; that his chance of escape would be far better if he went alone.
The passageway that led to his tower was pitch dark and Raven had to gather all her courage to keep going. To reassure herself, she felt for her herb knife that she had slipped into the cloak's pocket. Her heart hammered as she desperately clung to the belief that she had the power to free Christopher Dacre. The key would never have come to her hand had it been otherwise.
She felt the rough oak of the studded door beneath her fingers as she found the keyhole, then she turned the lock and miraculously the door swung open. After the darkness of the corridor, the candlelit chamber seemed bright, and Raven quickly closed the door behind her. Dacre rose up from the bed, and she went into his arms with a sob. “Chris, thank God they didn't put you in the dungeon or mistreat you!”
“Give me the key,” he demanded.
She pressed it into his hand. “There are horses grazing in the west meadow. Don't go near the stables,” she cautioned.
“I'll have no chance of escape with you along. I can't take you, Raven.” His voice was cold, calculating.
She was momentarily hurt that he did not put her safety before his own, then crushed down the ridiculous feminine emotion, assuring herself that he was being both sensible and practical.
“Do you have a weapon for me?” he asked.
“All I have is my herb knife.” She put the small dagger into his waiting hand, praying that he would escape without using it.
He held her by the shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “I swear I will avenge myself against him, and against every Kennedy breathing. I will destroy them with fire and sword!”
She had never seen such naked hatred in his gray-green eyes before. “No, Christopher! They have not harmed us. There has been no blood shed. Killing only leads to more killing!”
Suddenly the heavy door flew open and crashed into the wall. Raven jumped guiltily and stared into eyes that were dark with fury. Then Chris Dacre wrapped his arm about her middle and thrust her in front of him, snarling, “Not one step closer, Kennedy!”
Raven was shocked to feel the point of her own dagger against her throat. She was not afraid of the man who held her; she knew that Christopher would never harm her, that his threat was one of calculated desperation. The rage she saw in the Borderer's eyes, however, sent a shudder of fear up her spine. As if from nowhere, he drew a long knife and launched himself through the air with the speed of a raptor. Raven thought she screamed, then realized it was Christopher who had cried out in fear and pain as his arm was bent up his back and her small dagger clattered to the flagstone floor.
“I'm worth nothing to you dead,” Dacre babbled.
“Please don't kill—” Raven's words stuck in her throat as Kennedy swung about and pierced her with a murderous glare.
“Go!” he bellowed.
With overwhelming relief she saw him sheath his knife, then she obeyed his order, before her presence goaded him to violence.
Heath flung Dacre against the wall and watched him sink to his knees. “If you ever touch her again, I'll cut your heart out.”
When Raven returned to her chamber, she found Tina's woman with a tray of food. Ada surveyed her from head to foot with a look of approval. “Aha, just as we suspected. Tonight you have other fish to fry! In that gown you will have him eating out of your hand. Tina swears that green gives a woman power over a man. I say show him no mercy; drive him to his knees, which is exactly the position he will crave after five minutes alone with you.” Ada winked. “Valentina invites you again tomorrow night.”
Raven closed the door tightly when Ada left, wishing it had a bolt upon it. Heath Kennedy's power was far greater than hers. She sank to the bed with trembling knees, afraid of what he would do to her when he returned. She looked at the food and knew it would stick in her throat if she tried to eat anything. The wine was another matter, however; perhaps it would give her some much-needed courage. She poured a goblet from the flagon and took several large gulps. Almost immediately she felt its effect. Like magic, it felt as if the petals of a huge red rose unfurled in her breast. She drained the goblet and felt her blood heat as it pulsed through her veins. Ada's words echoed in her head: In that gown you will have him eating out of your hand … green gives a woman power over a man. Raven realized that she did have power; a woman's power over a man had its own potent magic. He had certainly responded to it earlier; it was her only defense against the dark devil!
The moment she heard him enter the outer chamber, Raven opened the adjoining door and walked bravely toward him. “I know my behavior was reckless. I saw the key and took it. If you expect me to apologize for trying to free him, you will be disappointed.”
His glance moved over her, saw her glittering eyes, and her lovely breasts that rose and fell with her agitation. “My only disappointment is that you are as devious as other women.”
“We are adversaries! What other weapons do I have?”
“You have many weapons, Raven, as well you know. I should give you a damn good beating for what you did tonight. Your reckless actions almost got you killed.”
“I was in no danger from Christopher.”
“No, you were in danger from me!”
She ran her tongue over her lips slowly, provocatively. “Danger excites me,” she whispered, swaying toward him.
Heath's arms went around her, steadying her. When his mouth covered hers, tasting her, his suspicions were confirmed. She was trying to handle him as if he were one of her hunting birds, using herself as the lure, to make him do her bidding. “Go to bed, Raven, you are flown with wine!”
His rejection stung her pride. She was aghast at her own behavior. “How very noble you are! First, you think to save me from Chris Dacre, then you think to save me from myself!” She retreated into her own chamber and crashed the door closed.
Heath's mouth curved into a smile. He had a vast experience of females, all of them devious. In comparison, Raven Carleton was so innocent, it touched his heart. She possessed great power; she just hadn't learned to utilize it. But once she did, it would be devastating. She was quite right, he did intend to save her from herself. He would never let that swine Dacre have her. He would woo her relentlessly until he won her, then he would flaunt her.
It was hours before his body allowed him to sleep. He lay in the narrow bed consumed by thoughts of her. He knew he desired Raven with all his heart and soul, but at the moment his body was obsessed by a physical need for her. His sexual hunger for her grew hourly. He indulged in a fantasy, forcing himself to go slo
wly at first, then he would allow his imagination to progress to hot and wild.
Heath stood framed in the doorway, enthralled by the black-haired beauty in the green gown. He held out his hand in invitation. “Come to me, Raven.” He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, feel the pulse beat in his throat, feel the shaft of his cock fill with blood, lengthening and thickening, until it throbbed with need. His gut ached with hunger for their first magical touch. She came to him slowly, moving sensually, swaying her hips, breathing deeply, so that the curve of her breasts swelled temptingly above the low-cut neckline of her gown. She stopped inches from his body, then deliberately ran her tongue over her luscious lower lip and whispered, “Danger excites me.” He reached out and with one fingertip touched her mouth. The current that ran between them was so intense, he almost came out of his skin. He stroked his thumb across her lip. “I'm going to taste you, I'm going to taste you everywhere.” Raven lifted her mouth for his ravishing, needing the kiss as much as he did. He licked her bottom lip, then sucked it whole into his mouth as if it were a ripe cherry. His hands unfastened her gown, then removed it. He teased her with the tip of his tongue while he denuded her of her petticoat. Her mouth tasted like honeyed wine, and he savored the anticipation of tasting the other intimate places of her body.
Heath pulled away from Raven and allowed his smoldering glance to travel the length of her body. Her skin was the color of ivory and smooth as cream; her breasts were full and tipped with bright rosebuds. Her thighs were soft, and the dark shadow between as tempting as sin. He lifted her high, until her mons was on a level with his mouth, then he kissed the tight little curls and slowly allowed her naked body to slide down his until her toes touched the carpet. He could wait no longer. In a heartbeat, they were naked together in the bed, and his hot mouth was open against her creamy skin, whispering all the things he was going to do to her. His hands threaded into her black silken hair, combing his fingers through the curls, inhaling their intoxicating fragrance that reminded him of purple heather. He lifted her above him, so that her glorious hair pooled upon his chest, then covered her breasts with kisses, and sucked and licked her nipples until they became taut little spears thrusting into his hungry mouth.
Suddenly he was ravenous for the feel of her long, lithe legs wrapping themselves about his body and sliding up his back. Like magic, she was beneath him, writhing, panting, moaning, in a fever to yield everything to him that he had ever desired. Heath rose up, then plunged all the way down, feeling her close sleekly around him. His palms curved over her lush breasts as he began the primal mating dance, plunging, thrusting into her scalding heat until the surging waves of passion rose higher and higher, threatening to drown him in forbidden pleasure. It was a race against time to bring them both to fulfillment before they were engulfed.
* * *
After Raven slammed the door, she admitted to herself that the wine on an empty stomach had gone straight to her head. She ate a little food, hoping to diminish her dizziness, and thought about her failed attempt to free Christopher. Try as she might, she could not deny that he had acted cowardly to use her as a shield. She laid the blame at Heath Kennedy's feet, of course, where it belonged. He held the master hand over poor Chris Dacre, whose only weapon was empty threats of revenge. Raven was beset with frustration. She had tried to use her power to help Christopher, but the Borderer's power was far more potent than hers.
She undressed, donned one of the pretty nightgowns that Ada had brought, and slipped into the wide bed, glad that the wine would make her sleep. An hour later Raven did not know if she was dreaming or if she was awake, but she did know that she was not alone in the bed. She turned her head on the pillow and looked straight into Heath's dark eyes.
“You will learn to do my bidding, Raven.” He spoke softly, mesmerizing her with his words. “I will train you to my hand.” He reached out and touched her, stroked her, smoothing his hands over her bare shoulders, combing his fingers through the black curls that lay upon her breast. Then he moved away to the far side of the bed and waited with infinite patience.
She saw that he held her knife in his hand, and it was a potent lure. Slowly, inexorably, she moved toward him until their bodies touched. He had an irresistible power that she could not fight, did not even wish to fight.
“Tell me what you want, Raven.”
“I want to drive you to your knees.”
“That is exactly the position I crave!”
In a heartbeat, she was between his powerful thighs. He knelt above her, naked, and lowered the blade to her breast. She was not afraid of the man who straddled her; Heath would never harm her. With tantalizing slowness he slid the point of the dagger into the fabric of her nightgown and slit it from her body. She shivered with delicious anticipation, waiting for the moment when she would be completely naked and he would cover her body with his.
“First, you must pledge to me, Raven.” He took her knife and made a cut on his thumb. Then he took her finger and pricked it with the dagger's point. “Merge your blood with mine.”
They pressed their hands together so that their blood mingled. Then their mouths fused and they unleashed the fierce desire that had been mounting since the first moment they had encountered each other and their destinies were joined.
Raven's eyes flew open. She turned her head on the pillow expecting to see Heath Kennedy beside her, but she was alone. That was impossible; she could still feel the heat of his firm flesh on her skin and feel her lips swollen from his passionate kisses. Somehow he had enchanted her, cast a spell upon her. He had come to her bed and taken her into his power!
Raven jumped from the bed and ran into the adjoining chamber. She blinked with disbelief, for there on the narrow cot lay Heath Kennedy in a sound sleep. He had flung off the covers and lay naked, but there was no doubt that he was fast in the arms of Morpheus. She looked down at her own body and found it still clad in the nightgown without any knife slits whatsoever. Slowly she realized it must all have been a dream. She cast a guilty look at his lithe, well-muscled body and felt her cheeks suffuse with a blush. God's passion, what if he opened his eyes and found her there, hovering at his bedside?
She crept back into her room and stood before the fire to warm herself. She had never experienced a dream so real in her life. She turned to the bed, and there upon the pillow lay her black-handled dagger. Raven lifted her finger, and by the glow of the fire, she saw the cut upon it. Her heart began to hammer, then she remembered she had deliberately made the cut herself, during the ritual she performed with her grandmother. She told herself that she was being fanciful, but somehow she was not convinced. This was the second time he had come to her in a dream. Last time he had stolen the raven's feather from beneath her pillow as a forfeit; this time he was determined to steal her heart.
CHAPTER 11
Raven stayed in her room for most of the next day. When she finally emerged into the adjoining chamber, she was relieved to find it empty. She decided that for her own peace of mind she would avoid Heath Kennedy at all costs and make sure they were never alone together. She went to the mews to feed her falcons, but since they did not need flying every day, she did not take them to the meadow. Instead, she returned to the castle and sought the company of Valentina. She found her reclining against the cushions of the window seat in the solar, writing letters. The babies lay in their cradles at her feet, while the young maids rocked them and sang to them.
“Raven, come and join the family circle. Heath tells me you train hunting birds. I find it interesting that Heath's passion is horses and yours is falcons. I saw the two of you yesterday, from my windows. When you ride together, it is easy to see that you both share a great love of nature.”
“Your brother is holding me captive against my will,” Raven said quietly. “He permits me to fly my hawks only in his presence.”
Tina stroked her chin with the feather quill as she studied Raven. “Between a man and a woman, it is difficult to know who is the cap
tive and who is the captor. Their roles change back and forth, in my experience. A clever woman can always gain the upper hand, then hold it by wearing a velvet glove.”
“You make it sound like a game.”
“Between a man and a woman, it is always a game. You have been playing two men against each other. I have only just learned that one of them is a Dacre. You must know that Heath will do everything in his power to save you from such a fate.”
The families were old enemies, a classic case of Scots against English, and Raven realized she could say nothing to change Valentina's mind. It also was plain that Tina would not take her side against her brother Heath's. Raven felt a pang of guilt for trying to involve Tina in her problem. The new mother had enough on her plate at the moment. “I cannot fault you for being loyal to your brother.”
“Heath and I are very close. He always accepted my willful, reckless behavior. I suppose it's because our temperaments are similar, completely unlike our other siblings'. I am writing to my brother Donal and his wife, Meggan, to give them the news about the twins. He's a dear soul, and I love him, but he is such a simple, uncomplicated man with no passion in his blood. He is quite content to live quietly on his land and graze thousands of sheep. He has no ambition, yet someday he will be Lord of Galloway.”
“And your other brother?”
“Duncan. He helps my father run the merchant shipping business. They export Kennedy wool to Flanders. He used to be good-natured, but he turned bitter after Flodden. He's quite avaricious; thinks everyone is out to cheat him, especially women. That's why he's still unmarried. He is fully convinced that he should have been the heir, rather than Donal.”
Raven could not help liking Valentina. She was so frank and honest. Before she was married, she had been known as Flaming Tina Kennedy, but that hadn't hindered her in making a powerful marriage. She had radiant beauty, but she also had great magnetism, and something else, which Raven realized was the sexuality her grandmother had spoken about. She had the power to hold any man in the palm of her hand and enslave him. Raven gazed at the lake outside the window, wishing she could acquire the same confidence as Valentina. A movement on the water caught her eye. “Oh, you have swans. How beautiful they are!”
The Border Hostage Page 12
