by Annie West
‘Tamsin?’ He stepped near and she stiffened. Pain scraped his heart. ‘Don’t cry. Please.’
‘Don’t be absurd. I’m not crying.’ She sniffed and turned away, the bedclothes twisting around her. ‘You’ve made it clear this afternoon was a monumental disappointment. If you don’t mind I’d like to get dressed. Alone. I’ll return to the castle as soon as possible.’
She shuffled away, hampered by the long trail of material which slid down to reveal the voluptuous curve of her spine.
‘You’ve got it wrong!’ He closed the space between them till he could smell the scent of her skin and the sunshine in her hair. Close enough to see her bare flesh prickle with cold. Or distress.
‘Don’t!’ She breathed deep, her back to him. ‘Please don’t. I understand. I may be naïve but I’m not dumb. You wanted it to look like we were having an affair. To fool those other women. So you brought me here and…’ Her averted head dropped low, revealing the vulnerable arch of her nape.
‘I misunderstood.’ Her voice was a whisper now and he had to crane to hear. ‘I thought…you know what I thought. And when you said you didn’t want to talk…’
Her head jerked up and around and she pinioned him with a furious amber stare.
‘No! It’s your fault as much as mine. You know what you implied. You let me think…’ She bit her lip and swallowed hard. ‘You didn’t say anything then about only wanting experienced women!’
‘Because it’s not true.’
‘So it’s just me.’ She blinked and turned away. ‘I see. Well, I’m sorry I don’t come up to your royal standards.’ The wobble in her voice gouged a hole through his chest.
‘I didn’t mean that.’ He planted a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off and moved to the head of the bed. ‘Tamsin! You don’t understand.’
‘Leave me alone, Alaric. I was stupid ever to imagine you’d be attracted to a woman like me. I got carried away with the fairy tale, that’s all. It must happen to you all the time. Women with stars in their eyes.’
She dropped her clothes on the bed in front of her and bent to step into her panties but the coverlet got in the way. With an exclamation of impatience she thrust it aside, letting it slide to the floor.
Frustration filled him. Self-contempt and annoyance at finding himself on the defensive. Plus a sexual hunger even greater than before. One taste hadn’t been enough.
He reached for her again.
‘Does it feel like I’m not attracted?’ With his hands on her hips he jerked her back so his arousal pressed blatantly against her buttocks. He almost groaned at how right that felt.
The breath hissed from her lungs as he slid his palms over her belly and ground his hips in a slow rotation that left him light-headed.
‘I want you, Tamsin. I brought you here with the express intention of getting you into my bed.’ He slipped one hand down to the moist heat between her thighs and felt her shudder as he homed in on that most sensitive of spots.
‘Or not. Anywhere would do. The sleigh, the barn, the kitchen. I don’t care. But I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to keep my distance because I realised too late how I’ve taken advantage. I’m responsible—’
‘You’re not responsible for me.’ Her defiance was belied by her throaty pleasure as her lower body moved a fraction against his stroking fingers. Her responsiveness cracked his resolve further and he slid himself provocatively against her cushioning curves.
‘I’m responsible for taking your innocence.’
‘You’re talking antiquated rubbish. It’s my business when I choose to lose my virginity.’
‘That doesn’t diminish my culpability.’
‘Oh!’ With a violent jerk Tamsin freed herself and swung to face him. Before he could prevent her she snatched up the coverlet and hid all that firm, glorious flesh. ‘You’re infuriating! Do you always take the world on your shoulders?’
Alaric watched passion animate her features and felt desire cloud his brain. ‘I knew what I was doing. You didn’t.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You know, women even have the vote these days. We’re capable of making decisions about who we want to make love to.’
Make love. It hit him with a jolt that for the first time the euphemism seemed more apt than ‘having sex’.
Ridiculous. What they’d shared was carnal pleasure at its most raw. Pleasure so complete he could no longer resist its pull. Love didn’t enter into it.
‘All right. Who do you want to make love to?’ Alaric loomed towards her. His conscience could go hang.
Tamsin shuffled back, eyes widening as she realised she was trapped against the bed.
‘I want to go back to the castle.’
‘No, you don’t. You want to climb on that mattress and let me show you the things we didn’t have time for earlier.’ Heat sizzled under his skin just watching her shocked delight as she processed his words. The furtive way her eyes darted to the bed. ‘I want it too.’
She tilted her chin defiantly and her grip tightened on the bedspread. ‘It didn’t sound like it a minute ago. Are you sure?’
‘Totally.’
‘Why?’
Why? The question flummoxed him. Couldn’t she feel the erotic charge leaping between them? Didn’t she understand what they’d shared had been remarkable, despite its brevity? So wondrous, so perfect no one in their right mind could walk away from it. He speared a hand through his hair in frustration. Why did women always want to talk?
The belligerent jut of her finely honed jaw said she wasn’t going to make this easy.
‘Because I’ve wanted you so long,’ he murmured, finally giving himself up to the truth. ‘Since I walked into the library and saw your sexy leg swinging above my head. Since I discovered a woman who challenges and intrigues and piques my curiosity. Who’s passionate about something as complex as translating ancient books and as simple as a waltz. Who’s not overawed by my title. Who’s not charmed by wealth and prestige and isn’t afraid to tell me what she thinks.’
‘This isn’t about duping those other women?’ She gnawed on her lip and hurt shaded her fine eyes.
Alaric’s mouth thinned and he silently cursed the fact he’d used that excuse to keep her close. If he’d known how unsure she was about her own desirability he’d never have done it. It had taken him too long to understand that her professional confidence hid deep vulnerability.
‘It’s got nothing to do with anyone but us.’
He lifted a hand and stroked the hair from her face, revelling in the way she swayed infinitesimally towards him. ‘You’re the most naturally sexy woman. Yet you hide your sensuality from everyone but me.’ He smiled and slid a hand down her throat to where her pulse thrummed.
‘Do you know what a turn on it is, being the only one in on your secret? Seeing your buttoned up shirts and long skirts, your sensible shoes and no-nonsense bun? Knowing that beneath is a siren who makes my pulse race with just one demure glance from those brilliant eyes?’
‘I…’ She shook her head as if words failed her.
He smoothed his index finger down her brow. ‘Even that tiny frown you have when you’re concentrating gets me. And the way you pout your lips over a knotty problem.’ He breathed deep, trying to slow his escalating heartbeat.
‘Every time I visit the archives and find you poring over papers I want to slam the door shut. I want to take you there, against the storage units. Or on that massive desk. You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve imagined it.’
Colour flared in Tamsin’s pale face and her mouth softened. Alaric bent his head, letting his breath feather her temple, torturing himself with the scent of her.
‘You’ve imagined it too. I can see it in your face.’
For the first time Tamsin was bereft of speech. She just stood, staring up at him in mute appeal.
Unfamiliar sensations stirred. Something deep inside swelled, filling the tattered remnants of his soul.
‘It’s all right,’ he murmur
ed, wondering if he was reassuring himself as well as her. ‘I’ll make it all right.’ He let his hand drop. ‘But only if you want.’
Silence thundered in the air, pulsing like a living thing as their eyes meshed. Something unfamiliar twisted in his chest as he waited for her response. Something more than desire. Something far stronger.
‘I want you too, Alaric.’
Relief speared him. She was his. For now.
That’s all he wanted. He ignored the half-formed idea that there was more than simple sex between them.
Making love…
No. Emotional connections were too dangerous.
But sex…sex he could handle. Sex they would both enjoy. A final fling before he faced the burdens of the crown. Desperation edged his movements as he wrenched the coverlet from her slack hold. Rosy nipples like proud dusky buds pouted just for him.
He reached out to the bedside table and yanked open the drawer, unerringly finding one of the packets he needed.
‘This time,’ he promised with a taut smile, ‘we’re going to take things slow.’
Hours later Tamsin lay, limbs deliciously weighted, so exhausted she felt like she floated on a cloud above the huge four poster bed. The shift and rustle of logs burning in the grate was the only sound. Never had she felt so languid, yet so alert to each sensation. The tickle of hair across her shoulders as she burrowed beneath the covers, the awareness of her body. Especially those parts where Alaric had devoted such lingering attention.
She squeezed her thighs together, conscious of the achy, empty feeling just there. Not sore. More aware.
Her lips curved dreamily. It wasn’t merely what they’d done together. Warmth like honeyed chocolate flowed through her as she remembered Alaric’s words.
She wouldn’t be human, wouldn’t be female if she wasn’t thrilled by the thought of him secretly desiring her, even though she couldn’t compete outwardly with the glamorous sophisticates who were his usual companions.
He enjoyed her body as much as she enjoyed his.
For long moments she distracted herself remembering his powerful limbs, the curve and dip of his back and taut buttocks, the heavy muscle of his chest. She’d explored his body till he’d pinioned her to the bed with a growl that had awoken every sated nerve. She blushed all over recalling what he’d done then. How she’d delighted in it. So much that she’d cried his name as she’d shuddered in ecstasy.
After Patrick she’d wondered if she’d ever trust a man enough for intimacy. She’d assumed her first time with a man might be clumsy, uncomfortable and nerve-racking.
Instead she felt…treasured. Appreciated. Set free.
The fire in Alaric’s eyes had incinerated the doubts and insecurities that had hemmed her in for so long. As if it was right to give in to the passions that simmered below the surface. To trust in herself and him.
He saw beyond her clothes and her job. He was attracted to her. He wasn’t put off by the fact that she spoke her mind. He even liked her enthusiasm for her work! The news that he’d been intrigued by her right from the start made them seem like equals, despite the disparity in their social positions and experience.
This was true sharing. Something she’d never had.
Bemused, she snuggled into the pillows. If it wasn’t for the proof of her exhausted body she’d think it a dream, too good to be true.
Forcefully she reminded herself this wouldn’t last.
He was royalty. A tiny chill pierced her glow. He might even be king.
Tamsin pulled the bedclothes close as a disturbing thought surfaced. Could that be at the root of her nebulous doubts about Tomas’s chronicle? It was the right date. Yet she had doubts.
Doubts or hopes? Selfish hopes that the chronicle was somehow wrong. That Alaric wasn’t king.
Because if he became king there was even less chance he’d be interested in plain Tamsin Connors.
Her breath seized on a guilty gasp. Is that why she hadn’t told him about the dating? The idea went against every professional principle. Yet deep in her heart a seed of disquiet grew.
Was it so wrong to wait a little to tell him about that? Enjoy this precious interlude before reality intruded?
This…relationship would end soon enough. Her mind shied from the idea of returning to her normal life without Alaric. But he’d given her a wonderful, precious gift. Honest passion and caring, shared unstintingly.
Nothing could ever take that away.
‘Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes.’ That deep, rich voice slid like rippling silk right through her insides. Her breath caught at its beauty.
Slowly she rolled over. Backlit by the fire’s glow Alaric’s long frame was mouth-wateringly athletic in just a pair of black trousers. What was it about a bare male chest, tousled dark hair and a smile that drove sexy creases down his lean cheeks? Tamsin’s breath sighed out in a whoosh.
Ink blue eyes met hers and heat trickled in her belly.
‘What have you got there?’ Her voice was husky and his smile widened. Every doubt fled as its warmth filled her.
He lifted his hand and a splash of fluid gold ran through his fingers. ‘Here.’ He sauntered to the bed and held up a silken robe.
She reached but he didn’t release it, just stood, holding it by the shoulders, wearing a smile of secret challenge. Her gaze flicked to Alaric’s bare chest. He had no qualms about nudity, but he was the most magnificent male. Whereas she…she was used to covering up.
His eyes beckoned.
‘There’s something I want to show you.’ When he looked at her that way she felt she could walk across hot coals and feel nothing but the pleasure of his smile.
Shimmying to the edge of the bed she slid out, holding the covers as long as possible. It was stupid to feel shy after what they’d done together. Yet it was only the fact that his eyes remained fixed on her face that gave her courage to step from the bed and slip into the seductively soft silk.
‘Excellent.’ Why she should feel such pleasure at his approval she didn’t want to consider. He smoothed the garment across her flushed skin, wrapping the sides closed across her breasts and stomach, tying the belt and caressing her unashamedly through the sensuous silk.
Her heart beat fast, lodging up near her throat as she sagged into his solid heat. She was exhausted, yet with a touch he overturned every sensible thought. She trembled, eager for his caresses. For more of his loving.
‘Come and look.’ He ushered her to the window then stood behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist, his body warmed her back and she sank against him.
The sky was dark and the vista almost obliterated by wafts of white. ‘A snowstorm?’
His jaw scraped her hair as he nodded. ‘We’re not going anywhere today.’
Heat blazed and she grinned. Their idyll wasn’t over. Yet she tried to be sensible. ‘Won’t your staff worry? Don’t you have appointments?’
‘Nothing that can’t be delayed. They know we’re safe. I texted them before we crossed that last ridge down into this valley. All we can do is wait.’
Tamsin tried to feel regret for Alaric’s predicament, cut off from the meetings and important people he dealt with daily. But she couldn’t repress a shiver of anticipation.
Before she could guess his intention, he hoisted her into his arms and carried her across the room. No other man had held her like this and she marvelled at the way she fitted so naturally in his embrace.
‘We’ll have to rough it here,’ he murmured.
‘Rough it?’ The place was pure luxury.
Alaric shouldered open a door into a massive bathroom. The sound of running water made her turn. Set in an arched alcove, lit by flickering candles and topped by a mural of Venus bathing, was the largest bath she’d ever seen. Subtly scented steam curled above it.
On a table nearby were crystal flutes, an ice bucket cradling a foil topped bottle and a plate of plump fresh raspberries and peaches. He must have had the out of season fruit flown in.
‘There’s only one bath,’ Alaric replied. ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to share.’ His eyes gleamed and his roguish smile thrilled as he lowered her, inch by provocative inch to the floor. His hands warmed her hips as she swayed.
Tamsin blinked, overcome by emotion. By the devastating pleasure of this over the top seduction scene. He’d done this for her. His darkening gaze invited her to enjoy it all, and him, to the full.
Guilt lanced Tamsin. She should tell him about the chronicle. But with guilt came a renewed sense of urgency. This would be over soon. She knew a bitter-sweet yearning to hoard every precious moment. She’d tell him when they returned to the castle. When the fantasy ended.
She’d never felt so cherished. Invited to share his laughter as well as the passion that lurked in the curve of his lips, his hooded eyes and his tight, possessive grip.
‘Thank you, Alaric.’ Her voice was hoarse as she stared at this man who’d given her so much. Physical pleasure, but more too. Something that made her feel strong and special.
She stretched up on tiptoe and pressed her unsteady lips to his. Instantly he gathered her close, arms wrapping tightly around her, kissing her with tender persuasion.
Alaric didn’t believe in love or commitment. Yet it would be so easy to fall for him. Totally foolish, definitely dangerous, but, oh, so easy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘NO, NOT like that, keep your palm flat.’
Alaric wrapped his hand round Tamsin’s, holding it steady while the mare snuffled a chunk of carrot. Tamsin’s gurgle of laughter echoed through the stable. He felt it as he stood behind her, his other arm pinning her close.
The horse whickered and mouthed Tamsin’s palm. She crooned to it, rubbing her hand along its nose.
Alaric’s belly clenched in response to her tone. It was like the one she used when they were naked and he discovered a new erogenous zone on her supple, gorgeous body.
He loved listening to Tamsin, he realised. Whether the soft gasps and cries of delight as they found ecstasy together, or the quiet, serious way she discussed other matters. Or her passion when she talked about books and dead languages and preserving the past. He even liked the schoolmistress voice she used to counter his teasing.
