“In what way?”
“I don’t know where we were, but it seemed like heaven. Stone walls, a big bed. Your hair was a little different. It was—”
She lifted her hair and twirled it against her neck. She tried to swallow, but her throat seemed to have swollen. She could barely get her breath.
“Just like that. How did you know?”
“A lucky guess. Perhaps ’tis how it was when you spied upon me.”
“No, that’s not—” He frowned. “Hey, I never spied on you.”
She dropped her hair and huffed. She needed to get out of this room. He made her feel funny things. It wasn’t possible they’d shared the same dream unless he had powers like Cameron Flynn. She peered at him. Was it possible Ryder Kendall was not human? He seemed human.
“I’ve seen that outfit before.”
“Outfit?”
“Your clothes.”
She sighed. “And yet you never spied.”
His gaze traveled over her body and heat swelled through her, making her sweat.
“That corset is very Goth, very hot. It really shows off your assets. But that skirt’s gotta go. You look like a serving wench.”
Arleigh glanced down at her clothing and smoothed her hands down her apron.
“’Tis all I have. We can’t afford the finery you wear. Besides, I am a servant.” She tossed her head. “But you needn’t be insulting and rude. I’m not a wench. I conduct myself with propriety.”
“Sorry. Is wench a bad thing?”
Ryder sat up, stretched, and the quilt fell away, pooling in his lap. The muscles she had seen in his arm apparently covered his body. They started in his shoulders and ran the entire length of his torso down to the edge of his flat stomach where, to Arleigh’s dismay, the blanket covered the rest of him. She had an insane desire to snatch the quilt away.
His skin glowed like he’d spent his time outdoors. What kind of work did this man do that his body had felt the kiss of the sun and yet had not destroyed his health and vitality? He ran his hand through his shaggy hair and looked around the room like he had forgotten something, or perhaps remembered something. Arleigh backed up another step.
“So what do you think a champion does?” he asked.
He tossed back the covers, and Arleigh yelped. She clapped her hands over her eyes and spun around to face the window. He rose and the bed groaned with his movement. She flinched when he brushed against her skirt.
“You don’t have to be so damn skittish.” She flinched again at the harsh sound of his voice. “I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”
She inched away from him, but he grabbed her elbow and spun her around.
“Look at me,” he said.
She slid her hands down her face. The brown eyes that had seemed so warm, so full of amusement, had turned hard. What had happened to him while he slept? Had he been thinking about the situation and realized what a disastrous future awaited him on Trinity Island? Was he sorry he had come to claim his brother’s property and family and found her thrown into the bargain? She needed him. He offered the only protection from Cameron Flynn, and an estranged brother might not be enough. What if he had decided there were too many problems on Trinity and refused to stay? Even the small amount of hope he offered her would vanish. What would she have to do to convince him to help her?
His grip on her arm tightened, and he stared at her with an expression that made her uneasy. He had picked up his shirt from the bed, but now he tossed it away.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
She could think of nothing to say but kept her eyes locked on his. They frightened her a little with their hardness. Nothing stirred there for her, no help, no comfort, no friendship, and she needed all of those things desperately. She needed Ryder Kendall on her side.
“Nothing,” she said softly.
“Then why are you so jumpy around me? Is it bare skin? Men in general? Me in particular? I’m not like Flynn. I’m not going to take what you don’t offer, but the woman who kissed me this morning had experience and seemed interested. What happened?”
He gave her a little shake, and she blinked. She had so little experience with men in this human life. What had she done? Did his anger stem from the kiss? Had he expected more from her? She couldn’t possibly give him more, especially not now. The kiss had proven it. How could she tell him they would kill each other with their longing?
She needed to make him understand, but the look in his eye said he would never understand anything she might tell him because something inside of him was hurt and confused. And she had forgotten the most important thing about Ryder Kendall. He might be mad.
She vaguely wished she had her skillet, because he had been so much more agreeable when she threatened him with physical pain.
He shook her again, and she tried to focus, but she found it so hard. The man frightened her and yet moisture leaked between her thighs. Even though he glared at her with a barely controlled fury, she couldn’t tear her glance from his eyes. She loved looking into them because, when she saw herself reflected there, she saw herself as she could be with the love of this man. She felt like they shared one soul and one heart. Hers beat very fast, and she glanced toward his chest. Did his heart beat in the same rhythm? Some kind of power connected them. His harsh voice startled her.
“What is the problem? Talk to me, Arleigh. We’ll fix it.”
“You’re naked, Master Kendall,” she whispered.
“My name is Ryder. Look, you’re a grown woman with a growing collection of exs. It doesn’t surprise me, because you’re gorgeous, and I don’t hold it against you, because I’ve laid so many women I’ve lost count. But my body shouldn’t scare you, and I shouldn’t scare you. I’m really a nice guy.”
He moved a few more inches toward her. She had to tilt her head back to keep her eyes on his face. He made her nervous, with his words, with the way his body seemed to crowd her, taking away her space, taking away her thoughts. He lifted a strand of hair from her shoulder and caressed it with his fingers. His voice softened when he spoke, and his eyes held a trace of understanding now. She breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had finally seen there could be no future between them.
“I know what your life’s been like around her. History is my job.”
“History can’t be a job,” she said. He changed the subject so often, her mind whirled when he talked.
“It’s obvious you and Flynn have something. I’m not even sure I want to know, so we’ll forget about him for now. But you’re indentured, and I know what that could be like for women, especially one that looks like you. You probably had certain…responsibilities.”
“I did many things for Stephen, and I work hard. I’m still learning some things, but I manage. I clean, cook, sew, care for the children, keep the garden—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His eyes filled with a gentleness she latched onto. His tone had softened, and he talked slowly, explaining a complicated task to a child. She had heard it all her life from men. She waited patiently for him to continue.
“You lived in Stephen’s house,” he said.
“Aye, he thought it best.”
“That implies certain expectations. I doubt Stephen was a saint. The Kendall men aren’t known for their restraint. We have a thing for women. What Stephen did isn’t admirable, but it was common. Everything must have been okay, because you were thinking of a future here. You were lucky Stephen was a nice guy, because it could have been much worse.”
“Stephen treated me well.”
“I’m glad to hear he was at least a gentleman about it,” Ryder said. “I’d hate to have to crawl in his grave and kick his ass. I don’t blame him for wanting you. I want you. You’re very hard to resist.”
Her heartbeat escalated. “Hard to resist?”
“Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately? Stephen could not have kept his hands off you for six days, let alone six months. I wanted you befo
re I even met you and now—”
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his chest. He pressed his own over hers when she tried to pull back. She felt the coarse hair spread across his flesh, the muscles that moved under his skin. The rhythm of his heart matched her own. It beat fast.
“I’m not a saint, Arleigh, but I’m also not like the men here. I know how to behave myself. Feel my heart? It doesn’t beat faster out of lust. It beats faster because I think there’s something between us. I felt the kiss you gave me, and I know you felt it, too. But if I’m wrong, or you’ve changed your mind, I’ll accept it. I’m a big boy.”
She tried to pull her hand away again, but he put his arm around her back and pressed her closer. The hardness of his entire length pressed against her. The lower half of his body stirred and she remembered the all-too-familiar thrusts, the shifting and erratic pushes that spoke of his desire. The pulse of his cock sent another flood of moisture between her legs. She wanted to pull him down onto the bed and accept what rose between his legs.
It’s too dangerous. Do you want to kill this man?
She could move a mere inch closer, one inch to show him he pleased her, that she wanted his arms wrapped even more tightly around her, that she wanted the taste of his mouth on hers. But that could never happen between them. Showing him how she felt would be the worse possible thing she could do. She could not be responsible for killing another Caindale brother. Instead of pushing against him, she pulled back in his arm and left the hard need of his body behind and forced the words from her mouth.
“You were wrong. I can’t give you what you want.”
He dropped his arms, but she found she couldn’t move.
“I’m not out to steal my dead brother’s property,” he said with disgust.
She lowered her eyes. She couldn’t look at him any longer. His eyes filled with hurt and anger again, but she wanted to explain.
“I’m your property now, Master Kendall, and I will work hard for you. Stephen and I had a good relationship, and—”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Things seem pretty cozy around here. Tell me about your relationship with Stephen.”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Master Kendall, but your brother was a decent man.”
“Decent men have needs, too. And so do women. Especially a woman like you.”
Arleigh huffed. “A woman like me? What does that mean? “’Tis obvious you have some opinion. What are you trying to say?”
“Come on, look at yourself! From what I’ve seen around here, men crawl all over this island trying to get into your pants, and I’ve no doubt they succeeded. That kiss this morning came from an experienced woman, and believe me, Arleigh, a man couldn’t walk away from a kiss like that and forget. You wanted more. I wanted more. I thought for a split second there would be more. You seemed to want me, but if I’m not your type, I’ll deal with it.”
“Master Kendall, I don’t understand the way you speak. What exactly are you talking about?”
“This vocabulary issue is royal pain in the ass,” Ryder muttered. He raked his hands through his hair. He took a step closer, and his body pressed against hers. “Fucking, Arleigh. I’m talking about fucking.”
The blood left her face and Arleigh jerked backward. She knew the word, had heard it in the Quay, on the ship, and around the village of Jamestown, and had used it in her other life. But each time she heard it now, she felt shame, and memories flooded through her of men whose dirty, grimy hands clutched at her skirt, tugged through her hair, and grabbed parts of her body like only their needs had merit. Each time she heard it, her heart clenched and her stomach roiled and she fled in fear. She wanted away from Ryder Kendall, but for some reason, her feet refused to move.
“Oh, no,” Arleigh murmured. “I can’t—”
“What I don’t understand,” he said, studying her face, “is why you’ve willingly accepted a man like Flynn and can’t stand to be near me.”
“Is that what you think?” she whispered. “You think I’ve bedded these men? That Flynn and I, that Stephen and I, I haven’t!”
The kindness vanished from his eyes. The merriment that seemed to shine around him like an aura dissolved. She had ruined him in such a short expanse of time.
He stared at her for a moment then shook his head. “Whatever you say, princess.”
“I was the Leanan sidhe,” she whispered, “not a princess.”
He stopped listening to her. He discovered she wouldn’t bed him, and he lost interest in her. Turning, he picked up his shirt from the bed and slipped his arm into it.
“If you didn’t sleep with my brother, he got screwed in this bargain. And if you treated him like you treat me, he’s probably glad he’s dead.”
Something caught his attention. He dropped the shirt back onto the bed.
“Why are you being so mean?” she asked.
He ignored her and went to the pegs that hung on the wall.
She swallowed hard and let her gaze sweep the length of him. He wasn’t completely naked. He wore a small pair of breeches that were incredibly clean and rested on his hipbones. They hung loosely around his thighs, but she saw the thin fabric did very little to conceal the bulge that tugged against the cloth or the dark shadows that pressed against the breeches. The bulge she’d discovered belonged to Ryder Kendall and not to his odd clothing. His cock was big and probably pleasurable, but that didn’t matter now. Not at all, because his mean and hurtful personality had shown through. She’d not kiss him again. Ever. And she certainly wouldn’t let him make love to her. If he had such a low opinion of her, she would stay clear of him. She wouldn’t need a curse to do that. She could keep her promise to Adelina. Resisting him would not be a problem.
But it wouldn’t hurt to look. The golden brown hairs that spread across his chest moved in a pattern down his body and merged to reach the shadows that rose from his breeches. Heat flared in her face. Her tongue passed over her lips. Maybe it would hurt to look.
She glanced toward his face, but he was occupied and mumbling to himself, so she continued her inspection. Like Ryder, Stephen had been tall but not powerfully built like this man. Ryder’s back and shoulders were broad, tapering to a slim waist and narrow hips, with healthy taut muscles spread across all the areas of his body. His legs were most attractive. In fact, every visible inch of him glowed a beautiful golden shade that made her want to run her hands across his flesh, to dip her fingers into the band that held the breeches around his hips, to— No! She reminded herself he was mean and hurtful.
He searched through Stephen’s clothing.
“Underwear?”
“What?”
“What did Stephen wear under his pants?”
“I wouldn’t know that,” she said.
“You washed his clothes, didn’t you? Christ, be a prude, it doesn’t matter to me. Never mind. I’ll wear mine until they fall apart. And in this place, that probably won’t be very long.”
He pulled a pair of breeches from the peg, dropped to the bed and pulled them over his legs. He went to the small trunk in the corner and began to rummage through Stephen’s things, tossing stockings and shoes into a growing pile. What did it matter? Stephen was dead, and everything in the house belonged to this strange man.
She cast a lingering glance toward him. Oh, this would be trying. Why did he have to be so bloody beautiful, and why couldn’t she forget the way his mouth had felt on hers? She would have to find a way to deal with Ryder Kendall, because once their lives were back in order, and if he chose to stay on Trinity, she would want to kiss him again. And the next time he offered more, she would accept. There wouldn’t be a choice. Looking at him made her body throb. Her pussy swelled and ached, wanting desperately to embrace the cock that still pulsed in his snowy white breeches. And that moisture flooding between her legs could not be good. She decided she would keep the skillet within reach at all times.
“I’m not going to be able to do this,” she whispered.
She left him to dress, closing the door behind her.
Chapter 12
Ryder breathed in the crisp afternoon air. Late October, he thought. The colors of the leaves seemed to indicate autumn, and a vitality hovered in the air only the fall could bring. Winter still lay a small distance away. Same place, same time. Kind of the same time.
The cottage looked the same, but everything else seemed foreign. His tiny herb garden was gone. So was the picket fence. His neatly cut lawn had developed into an overgrown expanse of tall, irregular grass, choked with weeds. All his hard work gone. It made him sick to look at it. A circular fire pit dug at the side of the house held charred debris, and a kettle hung on a tripod. Nearby, a rope for laundry had been strung between saplings.
A large vegetable garden stretched out with rows and rows of corn stalks, and leafy bushes that might be carrots, but could be spinach, lettuce, or cabbage. Damned if he knew. Large patches of pumpkins and squash littered the distant edge, but he doubted they would be carving jack-o-lanterns for fun around here.
Beyond a stand of trees that seemed to mark the boundary between the house and the farm, tobacco fields spread across acres. In the distance, several barns and stables, chicken coops, storage buildings, and what he assumed were living quarters for the laborers sprawled across a clearing. He smelled the animals from where he stood. Cows and horses, pigs and sheep. He may not have been a farmer, but he recognized manure when he smelled it.
“Glad I missed summer. This place must smell god-awful in summer.”
Four men worked in the nearest field. Stephen had been a pretty successful man, yet the matter of his debt still remained. He needed to study those ledgers. He wished he had taken an accounting course.
The beauty of Trinity Island stretched before him, more perfect than he could have imagined. The cottage and plantation were flanked by a forest filled with enormous trees.
On his trip to the outhouse, another great pleasure of 1639, he had seen the creek that ran behind the cottage. Fuller and deeper than the one in his time, it rushed and capered over rocks and stones, making its way to the river. The crystal clear water tasted sweet and pure. If he had time, he wanted to explore the entire island.
Carlton, Amber - Trinity Magic (Siren Publishing Romance) Page 12
