by Lynn Kurland
She chuckled to herself until she heard him thumping down the stairs. He sauntered over to her, then stopped and inclined his head.
“I believe the crust is gone now, my lady.”
“You poor thing,” she said, feeling another grin escape. “I should have shown you how to use the blender before I left.”
He scowled. “I knew it was missing something important but damn me if I wasn’t too stupid to latch on to what.”
“It’s that modern technology, Kendrick. You can’t run a blender; I can’t run a VCR. It’s a trade-off.”
He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “That’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure I want to spend any time in my study again.”
Genevieve didn’t have to hear his reasons. Too many things had happened there: touching him for the first time, then having him ripped away; signing away the castle. No, she didn’t want to be there again either.
“I understand,” she nodded.
“But the great hall is far too drafty for us.”
“We could fix up one of the other rooms. Or maybe the solar on the third floor? It overlooks the ocean.”
“I’ve a solution already.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and put it into her palm. “Your wedding gift.”
Genevieve knew instantly that the key was for the room she couldn’t open. She met his eyes. He smiled encouragingly.
“Go on. See if it pleases you.”
She walked casually over to the door, when in reality she wanted to run there. The lock turned easily and she opened the door and pushed it back.
It was her library. It was dark and inviting and just exactly how she’d pictured it. She whirled around and looked at Kendrick.
“You saw this in my mind.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Oh, Kendrick.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “I love it!”
“How can you tell? You’ve hardly looked it over.”
She smiled again at his teasing tone, then pushed out of his arms to look at her wedding gift. Beautiful dark wood furniture and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Deep, forest-green carpet. An enormous fireplace. Comfortable chairs done in black watch plaid. Brass lamps.
And more books than she could count. It would take her a lifetime to read them all.
“Don’t even think of sequestering yourself in here to read all these titles,” Kendrick growled softly. “I do not take well to being ignored.”
She laughed as she walked over to one of the shelves and trailed her fingers over the bindings. “All my favorite authors. How did you know?”
“I ransacked your memory one night while you slept. Genevieve, did you hear what I just said?”
“Of course, husband.”
“Then repeat it back to me. And put down that book!”
She grinned at him. “An entire library at my disposal and you thought I wouldn’t read anything?”
He growled and advanced. She put a chair between them.
“Come on, Kendrick. Just a few books a day.”
“One a week.”
“Five a week.”
“By the saints, Genevieve, ‘tis far too many!”
“I’ll read while you’re in the lists.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I’d rather have you watching me in the lists.”
“Every day?”
“The thought is so tedious it makes you yawn already?”
“Can I bring a book?”
“Nay, you cannot bring a book. And put that one you hold in your hands away. I did not bring you here to share you with some dead fool’s drivel.”
“Gee, Kendrick, it looks pretty interesting—” She shrieked and jumped away laughing as he vaulted easily over the back of the chair. He caught her and pinned her up against the bookshelf.
“How does it look now?”
“Really dull,” she breathed.
He took the book out of her hand and replaced it on the shelf. “Well-spoken.”
“Boy, you’re demanding. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Many times. And always in the most complimentary of tones.”
She tried to think of something else clever to say, but words had suddenly and quite completely deserted her. She could only stare up at her husband, acutely aware that he was standing only an inch or two away from her, that his hands were resting on either side of her against the shelves, that he dwarfed her in size. Though he’d always looked substantial to her while he was a ghost, having him as a living, breathing body was rather overwhelming. She saw the rise and fall of his chest, heard the faint sound of his breathing, felt the heat from his body radiate out and warm her. She knew how his arms would feel around her, how wonderfully cherished she felt when pressed close against that hard chest.
She also knew that he was waiting for her to do something about it. After all, was he really so different than he had been before? Despite the obvious differences, he was still Kendrick. He was still the knight who had offered her his castle and his heart after she’d poured out her soul to him. He was still the man who’d used all his strength to put a simple ring on her finger. He was the one who’d teased her, driven her crazy with his demands for her attention, protected her from the bad guys. And he was the one who loved her. He’d put his dream on hold to give her hers, and to keep her near him. Did having a body change him so much?
It didn’t. Even though she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed and she knew she’d probably make a fool of herself a dozen times over, she would give it a try. After all, how hard could seducing her husband be? It wasn’t as though he wasn’t willing.
She kept her eyes locked with his and slowly lifted her hands to put them on his shoulders. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. At least he wasn’t running the other way. She leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She couldn’t reach. He didn’t offer to help. She dropped back to her heels and frowned up at him.
“You could bend down.”
“As my lady wishes.” He lowered his head obligingly.
Now, that was better. She put her hands on his shoulders again and lifted herself up on tiptoe to meet his lips. Just the touch of them sent tingles down her spine. She kissed him again, then another time, wondering why he wasn’t responding. She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“You could put your arms around me, you know.”
“All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
Oh, so that was his game. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad game, especially since it wouldn’t last too long. Kendrick bragged about his patience, but Genevieve knew he didn’t have all that much of it. She smiled smugly, enjoying the power she had over him.
“If that’s the case,” she said imperiously, “then I want you to put your arms around me and hold me close.”
“Of course, Your Ladyship,” he said humbly, putting his arms around her.
Genevieve frowned. Now, that was an impersonal embrace if she’d ever felt one. “With feeling, Kendrick.”
“I’m feeling you quite well, my lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “And here I thought you wanted to be my love slave.”
He dropped to his knees. “Command me,” he said earnestly.
She laughed as she smoothed the hair out of his eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be wooing me.”
“I changed my mind. I’d much rather have you woo me.”
“I don’t have the faintest idea how.”
“You were doing a fine job a few moments ago.”
“You liked it?”
He looked off into space, as if he pondered her question deeply. “It was less painful than a flogging, but not quite as wonderful as a bowl of chocolate-chocolate-chip ice cream with whipping cream atop it.”
“Less painful than a flogging?” she echoed.
“Much less.”
She shut her mouth with a snap. Then she took him by the hand, pulled him up and led hi
m over to the long couch placed strategically close to the hearth.
“Sit.”
He sat obediently.
“Don’t move.”
“Not even to build you a fire?”
“I think I might be too tempted to roast you over it.”
“It would add greatly to the ambience, my lady.”
“Oh, all right. Just keep the tools out of my reach.”
“Where are you going?”
“To fix you some pleasure,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped out of the library. She slammed a few doors and drawers as she fixed him a large bowl of ice cream and scooped enough whipping cream on top to choke a horse. Or a medieval barbarian. Less painful than a flogging! She was tempted to go back and kiss him senseless. On second thought, that wasn’t a bad idea at all. She snatched up the bowl and a spoon and walked purposefully back to her library.
Kendrick didn’t flinch when she slammed the door, but he would have been a fool not to know something was up. Genevieve slapped the bowl down on the table next to his arm, took him by the front of his shirt and jerked him to her.
“Less painful than a flogging?” she snapped. “I’ll show you less painful than a flogging, buster.”
She buried one of her hands in his hair and tilted his head back, then pulled him even closer to her by the front of his shirt. She bent her head and swooped down on his lips with passion worthy of the silver screen. It didn’t bother her that he was too surprised to respond. By the time she got done with him, chocolate-chocolate-chip ice cream would be as appealing as soggy asparagus.
Not being exactly sure how to proceed in wooing her husband, she improvised. People were always slanting their mouths over other people’s mouths, then delving inside with their tongues. It couldn’t hurt to try. So she tilted her head and slanted her mouth over Kendrick’s. He didn’t wrap his arms around her, but his breath caught. Mr. Unaffected was not as unaffected as he seemed. Encouraged, Genevieve slipped her fingers further into his hair and slanted her mouth over his more forcefully. It was an easy thing to part his lips and she plunged ahead, hoping she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.
The moment she touched his tongue, she groaned. Kendrick refrained from comment but his breath caught again and she could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest. All right, pretend you aren’t affected and see what it gets you. She pushed him back against the back of the couch and followed him, leaning on one knee. She buried both of her hands in his long, silky hair and continued to assault his mouth, pretending that she knew exactly what she was doing. And though Kendrick might have been sitting there like a bump on a log, his tongue certainly made up for the rest of his body’s passiveness. Genevieve groaned every time his tongue tangled with hers, drawing her further into his mouth, loving her sweetly and passionately. But no matter how fully his tongue mated with hers, he simply would not follow her back into her mouth. Well, that was fine with her. This was her lesson she was teaching. Maybe in a few hours, she would demand that he kiss her the way he’d kissed her in the bathroom the day before their wedding. For now, she wanted Kendrick to realize she meant business.
She tore her mouth away from his, stood up and reached for the bowl of ice cream. She placed it ungently into his limp palms, then looked at him. He looked dazed. And flushed. Genevieve smiled smugly as she walked over to the wall and looked for something to read. It would have to be something that didn’t take any intelligence whatsoever because she couldn’t see straight, much less think that way. After choosing an appropriately pulpy detective novel, she sat down on the end of the couch furthest away from Kendrick. She stretched out her feet and wiggled her toes in front of the fire.
“Eat your ice cream,” she said, unconcerned, as she opened her book and stuck her nose in it.
“I don’t think I want it anymore.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move closer. She doggedly tried to make sense of the first page of the book. It was impossible. Three bodies already? In two paragraphs? How in the world was she supposed to keep all those names straight?
A spoon appeared in front of her. “A taste, my lady?”
She ate it to humor him. “Tastes a little dull to me.”
“Aye,” he agreed, “to me too.”
More bodies. In the library this time. It might not turn out to be half bad after all. Of course, it was very difficult to concentrate with Kendrick spooning ice cream into her mouth every thirty seconds. After about five minutes of rereading the same paragraph and being uncomfortably aware of the man feeding her, Genevieve realized she wasn’t going to be doing any reading that evening. But there was no sense in letting Kendrick realize that. She stole a look at him as he set the bowl aside and saw that he was starting to scowl.
He stretched out on the couch and put his head in her lap, elbowing his way under her book. She ignored him. He captured one of her hands and put it on top of his head and made dragging motions with it, suggesting oh-so-subtly that she comb his hair with her fingers. Genevieve humored him, but refrained from looking at him. She still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the flogging remark.
“Genevieve?”
She pursed her lips and kept reading.
“You’ve been on page two for almost a half hour now. How is it you ever finish anything when you read so slowly?”
“I’m savoring it.”
He took the book and flung it across the room. “Savor something else.”
“More ice cream?”
His expression darkened. “Nay.”
“Another book?”
“Damnation, Genevieve, you’re vexing me apurpose!”
“It’s better than a flogging, isn’t it?” she asked sweetly.
He scowled. “I was teasing you.”
“I know.”
He took her other hand and brought it to his lips. “Woo me,” he cajoled. “I’ll woo you tomorrow in payment.”
“I think I’d rather have ice cream.”
“Genevieve…”
She put her hand over his mouth. “Just kidding. I’ll woo you. What do you want?”
“For you to comb my hair.”
He wanted plenty more than that; she could see it in his eyes. “That’s it?”
“Perhaps another chaste kiss or two.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
She bent her head and kissed his lips softly. Oh, she could certainly acquire an addiction to his mouth easily enough. She kissed him again, then leaned back and began to drag her fingers through his hair.
“I should get a brush.”
“Your fingers suit me perfectly.”
Genevieve had to admit Kendrick was suiting her perfectly too. Now if he would just do her the favor of sweeping her into his arms and kissing her, she’d be perfectly happy.
Instead, he fell asleep.
Why she was surprised, she didn’t know. She chalked it up to too much pleasure from having his hair combed. Well, at least it gave her ample opportunity to get used to the feeling of his head on her legs and his fingers imprisoning one of her hands. She slouched down more comfortably and idly toyed with a lock of her husband’s hair. It was hard to believe that she’d felt such bone-numbing fear the night before. As if Kendrick would actually hurt her.
She sighed. Perhaps her ease came from knowing he wouldn’t make love to her that night. She wasn’t exactly sure how she knew that, but she did. Perhaps it was the restraint he’d shown while she was kissing him. It had affected him. She hadn’t been able to resist a surreptitious look at his lap. Men were so patently unable to hide their reactions. Even so, Kendrick had still let her feel like she was in control. She blessed him silently for it. He was right when he’d said that all their time together hadn’t prepared them to be lovers. She knew him well emotionally and mentally, but physically? Not at all. The only remedy for that was time. How like Kendrick to want to give her that time.
/> She smoothed his hair back from his brow. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” he whispered back.
She gasped. “You’re awake?”
He opened one eye and looked up at her. “Aye. And wondering if you’d fallen asleep. My hair suffers from your inattention.”
She smothered a yawn with her hand. “Sorry. My hand got tired.”
He reached up and captured that hand, then kissed her palm.
“Thoughtless of me not to realize it. But you’ve given me great pleasure this evening. Shall I cook you a late supper in payment?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll take a rain check. I’m really tired.”
He smiled gently. “It has been an exhausting few days, my love.” He sat up, then rose slowly to his feet, stretching. “Let me see you to your room. Sleep is no doubt what you need.”
Her room? Naw, he didn’t mean that. He meant their room. Genevieve allowed him to pull her to her feet. She was obviously so tired, she was hearing things. Kendrick’s hand was warm around hers as he led her from the library, through the great hall and up the stairs to the second floor. Walking down the hall with him reminded her how terrified she’d been the first couple of nights in the castle. Now she felt like nothing could harm her. It had everything to do with the powerful knight walking next to her. If anyone could protect her from thugs, it was Kendrick.
He stopped her at the bedroom door, then turned her to him with his hands on her shoulders. He pressed a kiss on her forehead.
“Good night, my love.”
She frowned. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”
“I must go back down and bank the fire. Then I think I may have to make myself a small snack.”
“But you’re coming later, right?”
He shook his head.
She shook her head too, not understanding. “But why not? You aren’t going to stay up all night watching movies or something, are you?”
He slipped his hands up her neck and tilted her face further up with his thumbs. “I’ll not come to your bed, Genevieve, unless I come to it truly. And I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet.”
