Through The Leaded Glass

by Fennell, Judi

“We need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” He traced the edge of her neckline, nipping little kisses along her jaw line back to that sensitive area below her ear.

  Her knees now on the verge of collapse and her stomach swirling with want and need and so much desire it stole her breath, Kate broke off the kiss and took a step toward his bed, wanting to be there when her legs gave out. “You first.”

  He took her dare, pulling his tunic off from behind his head in that timeless way guys did, his smile lascivious and sexy all at once. She’d forever remember him like this, rain damp hair dripping onto that massive chest, breeches molded to a washboard stomach, and a horseman’s powerful thighs. Her palms itched to feel the light dusting of black hair on his skin and she shoved back the bed curtain to hop onto the mattress. “All of your clothes, Alex. You wouldn’t want to get your bed wet, would you?”

  He arched an eyebrow as he removed his boots and pants in quick succession to join the pile on the floor. “That depends.”

  Then he stood in all his magnificent glory, hands on his hips, his gorgeous chest vee-ing down past cut abs to the taut lines of his hips where it was evident that he was more than happy to see her

  She tried to breathe. Really. She did. But her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth and her lungs were refusing to cooperate.

  Lightning flashed through the room then, enough for her to see the amusement in his eyes.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Fine. Two could play that game.

  She toed off her soaked slippers and drew her skirt up her legs. Slowly. Revealing an inch at a time and reveling in the heated look in his eyes as thunder crashed around them. But Kate could barely hear it.

  She untied her sleeve, letting the fabric slip down her arm to pool on the floor, then untied the other one. Alex’s gaze traced their path backward in the flickering candlelight, up her arms to the skin above her bodice and she felt his look like a caress. His eyes locked on hers and she knew she didn’t have much willpower left. She wanted to be with him, naked, toe-to-toe, breasts to impressive chest, and all parts in between.

  Willing her knees to function just a little longer, she slid off the bed and took a few steps toward him. His eyes never left her face.

  “I can’t undo the dress by myself. Will you play lady’s maid?” She swept her hair aside and turned her back to him.

  “I’ll be no lady’s maid, Kate, but I’ll willingly be your lover.” His hands gripped either side of the dress and ripped it apart to a crash of thunder. “Get these clothes off.”

  He did the same with her under dress and Kate smiled as she held it against her. She shook her hair down her back, the damp tendrils cool against her heated skin. “In a bit of a hurry, are we?”

  Alex lifted some curls to his lips. “I love your hair, Kate.” He threaded his fingers down the length of it, wrapping it around his wrist, and tugged. Her head fell back at just the right angle for him to kiss her neck. “Since I met you, I have dreamed of it draped over me.”

  “Then let’s make that dream come true, shall we?” Kate let her dress fall and turned in his arms.

  His indrawn breath was reward enough, his “You are beautiful.”

  “You make me feel beautiful.” She kissed his chin.

  Alex framed her face with his hands, his eyes searching, holding hers as the thunder crashed again. Double arcs of lightning lit up the room, but they couldn’t match the intensity of the fire he lit inside her. The man was potent and her nerves hummed; she wanted to touch, taste, feel, caress, slide over every inch of his body.

  She took his hands in hers, kissing the backs as he’d done to her, then urged him onto his back on the bed. She sat beside him and traced those long lines of his abdomen, brushing the fine hair below his navel where his stomach quivered.

  “You’re so beautiful, Alex.”

  “Men are not beautiful, Kate.”

  “You are.” She leaned over to kiss his hip, the scent of him turning her on as she watched him lengthen, thicken—

  Then she found herself on her back, Alex kneeling over her, his tongue spearing into her mouth. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him on her, touching her, easing the ache he’d created.

  She arched into him. “Get down here.”

  Alex nipped her chin and lowered himself. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

  Those hokey words had never sounded hotter. Never made her yearn for something more. Maybe “once upon a time” and “happily ever after” weren’t so unbelievable after all.

  Not that it mattered—she was going to go home tomorrow, remember?

  A pit formed in her stomach that had nothing to do with want and need and desire.

  She pushed it aside. She wouldn’t let thoughts of the future—literally the future—ruin tonight.

  And then she couldn’t think as his lips worked their magic down her throat to her collarbone. His tongue danced on her skin and Kate speared her fingers through his hair.

  Thunder crashed again, or maybe it was the sound of her blood pulsing through her veins as he made his way down to her breast, his tongue doing utterly wonderful and nasty things to her nipple, things that radiated down to increase the ache between her legs.

  She arched against him, pressing her breast more fully into his mouth, her pelvis against his thigh, needing that pressure to prevent her from going insane with the pleasure he gave her. “Alex, please,” she moaned as he kneaded her other breast.

  “Say my name like that and I’ll deny you nothing,” he growled, pulling back to look at her, hunger in his eyes.

  She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted before. How was this possible? Why now? Why him? Kate licked her lips and Alex groaned as lightning slashed across his face, air sizzling with electricity.

  He cupped her cheek, angling her mouth closer to his. “If anyone is to be licking those lips, it will be me.”

  His tongue darted out to do just that and Kate melted into the mattress. She writhed beneath him, her hands circling his back, sweeping lower to the firm muscles that clenched as his erection throbbed against her thigh. She slid a hand between them and encircled him, smiling around his kiss as he thrust into her hand. She stroked again.

  The storm swelled around them, raging against the walls, pelting the windows with its fury. Wind whipped against the leaded frames, fine, rain-soaked mist discovering an entrance and skimming over their heated skin but doing nothing to cool the fire between them.

  Kate ran her fingers over Alex and he groaned, long and loud enough to rival the thunder. He was hard as steel beneath the smooth skin. She skimmed the tip and he thrust his hand between them to capture hers.

  “Kate,” came out in one long guttural plea.

  She slid her fingers over him again and his eyes shot open.

  “Careful, Kate, or it may be over before it’s begun.”

  She gave him a wicked, wicked grin. “No problem, Alex. We’d just have to do it all again.” Her fingers circled the tip once more, finding a small drop of fluid. She circled it on his skin with flickering fingers.

  “You will be the death of me.”

  And you will be the life of me. She almost said the words aloud. Almost, but not quite. Where on earth, modern or medieval, had those words come from?

  Alex moved between her thighs and in one thrust was deep inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and held on as waves of pleasure crashed through her, each thrust sending the pleasure higher. Her muscles tightened around him and she could feel every satiny steel inch of him. In and out, his hips pounded against her, his breath sending shivers through her body as she arched into him, climbing toward something just out of reach.

  The wind howled as the storm reached almost hurricane strength. One of the interior shutters lost its battle with the wind and slammed open, the window following shortly thereafter, glass shattering to the floor, and the sto
rm whipped through the room, rifling the covers, whirling the bed curtains around them.

  She didn’t care if the room flooded. She dug her nails into Alex’s back, holding on, trying not to slip off the edge of the cliff he drove them torward as thunder roared into the room, each rolling wave accompanied by Alex’s thrust. Rain crashed through the broken window, beating the floorboards over and over.

  Alex mouthed her temple, her cheek, dragged his tongue down her skin to beneath her ear where he softly bit the column of her throat and she growled at the intense pleasure. My God, she actually growled.

  “I can’t believe… this is… it’s…” She gave up being articulate and settled for gasping her pleasure. Alex didn’t seem to mind; he matched her sounds with his own.

  Thunder rolled over them as Alex reached beneath her and clasped her backside, pulling her into him. Lightning arced outside the window and the shutter cracked against the wall again. Kate wound her legs tighter, keeping the rhythm. She couldn’t get close enough to him.

  His lips landed on her shoulder, his forehead damp against her cheek. “Kate,” he rasped as his teeth nipped her flesh. She groaned and he pounded into her. “Kate, dear God, Kate—”

  Thunder crashed again, slashes of lightning turning the darkness into day. Alex arched back, pushing himself up on his palms, staring down at her. His eyes blazed and a sheen of sweat covered his body. Every cord in his neck stood out and his arms shook. “Do. Not. Move.” he said through clenched teeth.

  That was like telling a starving person not to eat the food before them. Kate could no more not move than she could not breathe; she was too close.

  Her hips rolled as another battering pulse of thunder sounded and Alex dropped onto his elbows. He thrust into her, his body frenzied like the storm swirling around them, over and over, his arms shaking, his jaw clenched.

  Kate thrust up to meet him, digging her heels into his backside, her fingernails raking his back. The wind howled around them, lightning split the night, rain pummeled the room and, finally, Alex drove into her with every bit as much fury, and her climax crashed over her, taking her out of herself, a moment of solid, unadulterated feeling, and she called out his name with each throbbing wave.

  He fisted the sheets by her head, catching some of her hair, but Kate didn’t care. He thrust deeply as twin bolts of lightning blazed outside the chamber. Then he froze, every muscle locked rigid as he pulsed inside of her.

  She pressed down with her heels and he groaned, deep and guttural. Thunder rumbled, rising with the wind. Sweat slicked his skin and Kate ran her hands up his arms.

  He groaned again, unintelligible. Harsh. She circled her hips and tremors seized him, fanning out from where their bodies joined to every part of him and he came as thunder again crescendo-ed through the room.

  An eternity passed. The wind still howled, the lightning still flashed, the growl of thunder vibrated through the room. Rain still showered through the broken shutter and she raised herself the necessary inch or so to kiss the strong column of his throat.

  He swallowed. Then his chest hitched and he sucked in a huge breath. He lowered his forehead to hers and his eyes slid open. A smile tugged at his mouth.

  “You are truly from beyond this world, Kate.”

  One she almost didn’t want to return to…

  ***

  Alex tucked Kate’s sleeping form closer to his side. She’d drifted off almost immediately, and by rights, he should be doing the same. But he couldn’t.

  He’d gotten out of bed, half-heartedly, but the shutters had needed to be closed. Then he’d pulled an extra fur from a chest on the far wall and covered them with it. She fit in his bed as perfectly and as right as if she should be here.

  She murmured something soft. He traced his ring on her finger, then trailed up her arm, her skin so soft and smooth. He kissed her shoulder softly, lingering over the faint taste of salt there, the musky scent of their lovemaking weaving between them. God, he loved her.

  For all the good it’d do him. The window would arrive tomorrow, and while he’d be a fool to give it to her, he couldn’t not give it to her.

  For what was a man but the strength of his words?

  ***

  Lightning arced through the shutter slats, dancing off the yellow walls in the countess’s chamber, looking like daylight gone mad. The man smirked and hefted the urn onto the bedside table, relishing that it’d been Isobel who had unknowingly helped him.

  And wouldn’t that vex her if she knew?

  This time he couldn’t mask his chuckle.

  Not that the noise would matter with the storm.

  Ah, yes, everything was in place for his plan to work.

  He lifted the vessel and poured some of the wine into a cup, then added that potion that would finally turn events at Shelton to his favor. It would only take a sip or two. Not much.

  He returned the urn to its normal place beside its twin, careful to wipe the evidence from the rim. He checked the cup, giving it a swirl with his finger. The potion was odorless, which hadn’t really been a problem with Lawrence, but the “lady” might just be curious enough to sniff.

  Not that it’d do her any good. He’d ground the ingredients just so, and the extra cloves he’d added to the wine would mask anything else. Now all he had to do was sit and wait.

  But wasn’t that what he’d been doing these last years anyway? A few more hours, and it would all finally be his.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Alex had carried Kate back to her room because he hadn’t wanted the servants to learn where she’d spent the night. It was a nice, chivalric gesture, but Kate had a feeling everyone already knew. From what she’d read in history books, there weren’t many secrets in a communal living space like this. Plus, if they’d gotten a look at Alex with his tunic hastily tossed over his head and her in the bed furs, there’d be no doubt. Still, she did get a warm and fuzzy feeling that he cared about her reputation.

  “I’ll see you in a few hours, Kate.” He kissed her softly before leavin.

  She wanted to call him back. Last night had been… Spectacular. Amazing. Unbelievable.

  And over.

  It had to be over. She had to get back to Emma and her life.

  She blew out a breath, fluffing her curls off her forehead. Curls he’d had his hands buried in all night long. Curls he’d traced over her skin with nerve-shivering results.

  She shrugged into her nightgown. She was never going to get any sleep with thoughts like that running rampant. She picked up the cup of wine on her bedside table. Five p.m., five a.m., what did it matter?

  She took a sip, trying to relax. Today could be the day she’d go home. But what if it wasn’t? What if the window didn’t do the job? What if she was stuck here until she saw Alicia?

  And what happened if she was stuck period?

  She took a bigger sip. Staying here… it wouldn’t be terrible.

  Because she loved him.

  She took another sip of the wine and stared up at the crimson canopy above her bed. She loved him. How could she not? He was a good man. A compassionate and reasonable man. Just. He listened to her and valued her opinion. Loved his son, his friends, his people. And maybe even her.

  Lord knew, he wanted her. Her body tingled at the memory. Oh, yeah, he definitely wanted her and she hadn’t been able to get enough of him. No, it definitely wouldn’t be a hardship to stay, but was a good idea?

  That was the million dollar question. Right now, she had that choice. And, if window worked…?

  Well, if it worked and she decided to stay, that would be her decision. Not Fate’s, not Alex’s, and not some time travelling window. Hers.

  It was amazing how freeing and empowering a thought that was.

  ***

  Finally, the whore was asleep. It’d taken longer than he’d expected and he needed to get her out of here quickly.

  He pushed open the false stone in the wall, revealing a sallyport only a few knew of, for
while the other ones had been built for quick escape in the event of a siege, this one had been designed specifically for nightly assignations.

  And oh how it’d been used.

  He stuffed pillows beneath the bed covers beside Alex’s beloved, covering them to mimic her sleeping form, then lifted her over his shoulder. He straightened to his full height and took one last look around the room to make certain he’d removed all proof of her existence from the room. His final act needed careful staging for the full effect.

  He lit a candle and entered the passageway, closing the door behind him. It’d been expertly crafted to conceal the entrance to his escape route. Alex would never think to look for it.

  Allowing himself a smug smile, he bypassed the earl’s chamber and followed the corridor to its hidden connection with one of the original sallyports, then followed that one to climb out the chapel side of the castle.

  Grey dawn filtered through the dissipating clouds as he slogged through ankle-deep mud, cursing the night’s storm. He was running out of time. They needed to be long gone from here before anyone noticed her missing.

  He reached the copse where a horse waited and hefted her over the animal’s back, draping her with a blanket he’d pilfered during his stay, and headed to the cave he’d equipped specifically for his purposes.

  The sun was above the horizon when they finally reached it and his excitement was waning. Fatigue set in while he propped her against a rock on the dirt floor. He had one last scenario to create, so, to ensure she wouldn’t awaken, he dribbled more of the draught on the gag between her lips, then set about dressing her in that hideous gown. When—not if, but when—Alex next saw her, he’d see the woman who’d pledged herself to him turn against him.

  Wouldn’t that be a wonderful turn of events?

  He enjoyed a quick fondle as he undressed her, the thought of enjoying more tempting him. But the hour grew late and he was tired. Once he’d won everything he’d set out to, however…