by Minda Webber
Learning how Herr Dumpty died left her shell-shocked but, not to be outdone by this raging but handsome prince, Greta returned the kiss with all the passion and love she had. Her intensity struck Rolpe hard, causing his mouth to gentle, though he still held her tightly to him. Truly, they were a perfect fit.
As the kiss continued, reason fled, and before Greta could say “Jack Frost,” she found Rolpe nipping at her nose, kissing her cheeks and laying her across a wooden bench, one nipple peeking from out of her dress. Her skirts were around her waist, and Rolpe’s fingers found that place that had been throbbing ever since she met him.
“Oh, my goodness!” she gasped. “What are you doing?” It was certainly strange and erotic. She could feel his fingers sweeping through her curls and touching something moist and sweet and aching.
He leaned back from worshipping her neck and smiled wickedly, “Making you crazy—as crazy as you make me.”
“But we’re not married! And though I do not know exactly what husbandly and wifely duties entail, I imagine this might be on the agenda.” Greta spoke earnestly, if a bit breathlessly. She was worried about becoming with child, unmarried, and yet she was hungry for something she could not define. Alas, she was truly and madly in love with the man touching her, the man she was now wearing almost like a cloak.
“This is scandalous—heavenly, but scandalous nonetheless.” Her aunt would decry these actions to the heavens; her mother would faint over them, and no young virgin should allow such wantonness. She had been seduced by a kiss and soon found herself at a feast, a banquet, a wedding night without wedding guests, wedding cake, or even a ceremony. She could not continue in this vein without dishonoring all that she knew, even though her heart wanted it so badly. “I cannot.”
Rolpe blinked, the madness of lust leaving him slowly. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the freshness of her unique scent, made sweeter by arousal. He withdrew his fingers, wet with her arousal, and let loose a string of profanity.
“Well, you’re certainly not Prince Charming. Really, Rolpe, there’s no need for cursing.” But she smiled a secret smile, for he was unquestionably the one who’d awakened her with a kiss.
“The hell you say,” he snarled, pushing himself off her. He would die if he didn’t finish what he had started. Nonetheless, he forced himself to leave her body, her scent, her very being. He regretted the act, especially remembering Fen’s words about a woman’s softness being more than just physical. A raging hunger had beset him, and Rolpe wanted Greta with a passion like no other. Despite all his attempts to the contrary, he’d become all too fond of the delicious Miss Grimm and the enchanting spell she’d cast.
“Danke, for stopping,” she said.
“I had little choice, since I do not ravish virgins. Nor do I intend to become a husband,” he growled, his eyes dark with thwarted passion. “I may want you like the very devil, but I’ll be hanged if I’ll stuff myself into his very handbasket on its way back to hell.”
She was no longer in peril from his seduction. The words he spoke ripped into her like slashing claws, tearing her heart and her pride to shreds. With a gasp she cried, “I can’t believe I let you…I fear I am more than fond of you, and that has made me foolish.”
“I am not ready to wed.”
“But you are ready to bed,” she snapped. “I shall go down on my knees and give thanks.”
He interrupted her with a painful groan. He ached with want, but he was also frightened of his feelings. And yet, as a prince of the realm, fear was something he couldn’t tolerate.
Greta cursed him. “I shall not spoil the good name of Grimm or Snowe by giving my virtue to a man such as you—a man who takes advantage of finding a lady alone with a naked dead man and has the nerve to try and seduce her. And then you accuse me of trying to entrap you! Again! Just who do you think you are, the King of Prussia?” Never had she desired a man so much. If she couldn’t marry Rolpe, Greta knew she would never marry. Alas, her heart, once given, was given for life. Rapidly, she readjusted her skirts and glowered at him. Her heart was weeping, and she was dying inside.
“Nein. Not a king; just a prince of Prussia, and too wily a one to get caught in a virgin’s snares.”
“You are a very stupid man,” she retorted. Shoving him away, she marched to the stairs, head held high like a steadfast tin soldier, her heart threatening to pound out of her chest.
“Stupid. perhaps. Unmarried, definitely.” And quite content.
“And you call yourself a prince? Ha! You, sir, aren’t even a gentleman!” With contempt, Greta turned and hurried up the stairs. She wanted to escape him forever.
Regrettably, Rolpe noted the tears in her eyes before she turned away. That wounded him. Cut to the quick, he shook his head, realizing that he regretted much of what he had said. He wanted her so badly. He should have just dropped down on bended knee and proposed. But pride and four long decades of debauched bachelorhood kept him silent.
At the top of the stairs, Greta turned to glower at him one more time. “I wish you joy in your lonely old age. You’ll never touch these lips again.” And so saying, she slammed the cellar door behind her.
No one had to knock Rolpe on the head for him to realize he’d been given an ultimatum, and, like a prince of any land, he growled and cursed. No prince liked ultimatums. Especially not from his ultimate mate, hmm?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Where There’s Smoke, There’s Alden Schortz
Familiarity breeds, contemplated Fen as he awakened early and reluctantly left Rae’s bed. Time was passing on the wings of angels. Looking down at his lovely wife, he noted how her impossibly long braid was hanging across her shoulder and down her hips to rest between her plump white thighs. He licked his lips, and his heart did a strange flip-flop in his chest. Valiantly he resisted the urge to crawl back beneath the covers and cradle her golden head on his chest. His new wife really loved his chest, just as she loved his eyes, his arms and another part of his anatomy. One much lower.
Last night Fen had instructed his bride very thoroughly in her wifely duties. One of those was to loosen her hair from the braid she generally wore while sleeping. Next, he had taught her all about riding “a different kind of stallion.” With a passionate wildness Rae had learned, her muscles clenching him tight, her unbound hair falling about them like a silken veil. If he lived to be a hundred and twenty, he would never forget the sight.
Despite the fact that it was only the fifth night since her deflowering, Rae had bloomed in the bedchamber. A happy place now was his boudoir, where Fen religiously assured his wife that it was his husbandly duty to make certain that she enjoyed herself. They had also made love in the stables yesterday, when he had found Rae there busy helping Quinn with a sick dog.
Merri had been there, too, watching her brother, grumbling about the smell. Rae had glanced over at the rather precocious girl and told her: Of course it smells, it’s a stable. Verily, if that was all she had to complain about in life, then she was a lucky child. Her comments had caused Merri to shut her mouth with a snap and look thoughtful. Then Rae had directed Merri over to two frisky little pups and asked Merri to name them, since she was the eldest Schortz sister. Merri had proudly complied, only voicing one complaint the whole time—which was a record. Fen had been extremely pleased. To be honest, his wife had done well with all the girls. Poppy seemed to have grown quite fond of her new stepmother in so short a while, with her sisters coming along as well. Ever since the trip to the gingerbread house, Shyla had seemed very thoughtful. Although she was not actually friendly to Rae, she had at least been polite.
Unfortunately, Nap, Ernst and Alden still held some aversion to their stepmother, but Fen hoped that would soon change. His own opinion of his wife was changing daily. What he felt for Rae was not the enduring emotion he held for his first wife: a grand love, a first love, so very special. And yet, Rae stirred feelings in him, deep feelings. She was exciting, sweet, thoughtful, thoughtless, spoiled
, humorous and vain, all at one time. She also had a few characteristics that he found essential. Rae had the capacity to forgive, and her heart was big enough to take in even his rowdy brood.
As he watched, Rae sighed in her sleep. Leaning over, Fen kissed her cheek and gently tugged on her braid. He had arranged it himself last night after a bout of lovemaking, so they would not awakened entangled in the thick silken strands, and he’d loved every minute of the job. Her hair was a marvelous color and texture, and so very long. He actually shuddered as he recalled her standing in all her glory, like Venus rising from the sea, the long moonlit strands floating about her body.
Another soft sweet sigh caught his attention, and he glanced down at her with pride. She looked so innocent, yet had the body of sirens of old. One bounteous white breast was visible with its rose-colored tip. Again he licked his lips. He wanted to bed her now, but alas, he had taken her three times last night and once early this morning. She had gently complained of being sore; so, doing a different husbandly duty, he decided he would give her a day and night of respite. Well, a day, anyway, he thought ruefully.
She moaned a little more in her sleep and turned over, her thick fat braid falling to the floor. With her pink mouth pursed and her eyelashes lying against her cheek, she was absolutely adorable. She had surprised him more than once in this marriage, and not only in bed. She was trying to be a good wife and a fair mother. When he was first honor bound to wed her, he had foreseen only dark days ahead for Castle Durloc. Yet a miracle had occurred. During this past fortnight, the darkness in his soul, the gaping hole in his heart, had begun to heal. It was all due to Rae.
He got up and dressed, went downstairs and ate, then worked hard on the estate books, knowing what he needed to do and dreading it. Tonight was a full moon, so he had to confess all. Hedging, he decided to tell Rae at teatime.
While Fen was in the study below, still pondering just how to introduce the family secret, Rae woke. Getting out of bed, she was pondering the strange response she’d gotten back from her sister. Greta had rejected a dinner invitation for tomorrow night, a dinner with Rolpe as the other guest. Rolpe, too, had rejected the invitation. Something was rotten in the state of Wolfach, and Rae would not rest until she knew why. Greta was marrying Rolpe whether she liked it or not. She might be too headstrong and obsessed with her fairy tales, but Rolpe would manage her.
Lazily, Rae brushed her locks and stared into a mirror. But this time, it was not in vanity. Since her wedding, she had undergone a strange yet exhilarating transformation. No longer did she spend her days in idle dreams about her future as a bride, complete with prince and fairy-tale castle. Well, she admitted, she already had the castle; but her happiness was not entirely due to the stuff of Greta’s Gothic tales. Rae had grown strangely fond of most of her stepchildren, in spite of their odious pranks. Remarkably, even though her husband was not a prince, Fen did have a princely bearing, a nobility of spirit that she had come to admire greatly. And Rae blushed as she thought of their heated nights together. Her husband was a superb lover. In fact, he was everything she wanted in a spouse.
Humming, she hopped up to dress but stepped on something pointed. “Owwww!” she screeched, stumbling, falling near the hearth, a few strands of her long hair catching fire. Foot bleeding, hair smoking, she hopped around the room like a madwoman. Without thinking, she tossed the object that had inflicted pain out her window. But as she did, her long hair whipped past the hearth and caught fire in earnest.
“Nooooooo!” Rae screamed, even louder. As she ran to douse her braid in a nearby basin, she heard a horde of footsteps approach.
Fen reached her first. “My dear, what’s happened?” His heart beat rapidly, though he was relieved to see his wife alive and well, so to speak. He looked her over carefully. Her scream had made him realize just how important she had become to him.
He cocked his head, suddenly realizing that she stood somewhat comically, her hair sizzling in the water bowl.
“No, I am not all right!” she snapped. “My hair’s on fire! Or was.”
Nap appeared and laughed. “Rae, be nimble, Rae, be quick, Rae didn’t jump the fire too quick.”
“It’s not funny!”
“I heard a crash outside the window downstairs,” Ernst said, appearing, his eyes wide.
“What? Oh, yes. That was what caused this whole mess.”
“Um, how did you catch your hair on fire, my dear?” Fen spoke up.
“By stepping on Alden’s lamp.”
“I want lamp!” Alden shouted. “I looked for it all morning.”
“Well, it’s out the window. I tossed it.”
All the children ran to the window and looked down. They gasped in horror.
“You broked my lamp!” Alden screeched.
“You’re mean!” Ernst shouted.
Rae looked at the lot of them as if they’d all gone off their rocker. “I nearly burnt in a fire and you are all carrying on about a dented old lamp? I’ll have to cut off at least a foot of my hair,” she complained.
Alden burst into sobs. “Now I can’t bring my mama back!”
Rae looked at Fen, confused, then had a sudden realization. The lamp was more than just a lamp to Alden.
“Oh, Alden! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. I wasn’t thinking.”
Suppressing the urge to comfort his youngest, Fen let Rae take the lead. The child blinked several times, holding back his tears.
“It was magic,” he said.
Rae sat down across from him on the floor, something she hadn’t done since her nursery days. Her eyes too held tears. “I didn’t know.” She longed to reach across and brush away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. But she knew she would be rejected.
“You must miss her very much.”
This time, several tears slipped down Alden’s little face. “Ja. Even though I didn’t knowed her. But my lamp was gonna bring her back to us.” As he said the last, more tears began to fall, and he angrily swiped at them. “I want a mama. All my brudders and sissers had a mama. But I didn’t.”
Rae’s heart broke at that statement, and despite his initial resistance, she swept Alden into her arms and gently rocked him back and forth. He cried out his little boy sorrows.
“Oh, my little one,” she said as she stroked his thick head of curls, “I’m so sorry. If I could take back what I did, I would.”
He continued to cry as if his little heart was breaking. Soon Rae joined in. Fen’s heart swelled for her. There on the floor, singed hair and red eyes and all, Rae had never looked more beautiful.
“Oh, sweetling, please don’t cry. I know I’m not much of a stepmother, but I will do better, for I very much want to be a mama for you.”
Alden sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “You can’t be her.”
Rae tipped his head back and looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to replace her. I can’t do that, for she was a very special lady who held a special place in all your hearts. But, do you know? The magic thing about any heart is that it is big enough to love more than one person.” She looked up at Fen and smiled, then, sharing with him a special moment. The other children watched Rae, and Fen knew they realized she wasn’t so bad.
Alden looked highly skeptical, however, and suddenly Rae saw a resemblance to his father. “You love your father, your sister and brothers, your dog and your lamp. Right?” she asked.
After thinking it over for a few moments, he nodded slowly.
“Well, then, you can love a stepmother too. Or at least grow fond of her.” Rae looked over at Shyla, Poppy and Merri. They returned her smile.
Ernst and Quinn shuffled their feet shyly. Maybe their new stepmother was right, said their eyes. Maybe they could at least like her. But Nap still met her gaze with a doubtful glare. She hoped one day she could touch his heart.
Glancing up at Fen, Rae knew she had to do something to fix what she had unintentionally wrought. “What if I took your lamp t
o the cobbler to get it fixed? How would that be?”
Alden nodded, his chubby face grubby and tear-streaked. Then, narrowing his sly little eyes, he asked, “Will you played pirates with me?”
“Bargaining, are we?” Rae studied him back. Then she smiled. “I promise to play pirates with you. Only, Ernst shall be the captive.”
“Ernst?” He sounded intrigued.
“Nein,” Ernst shouted.
But Alden insisted.
As Rae shook the little boy’s hand, Fen smiled down on his wife. For the first time in a long while, he felt part of a whole family again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Six Feet Under Is Six Feet too Few
Greta was staring into the mirror’s reflections as she was wont to do, looking for vampires, and she frowned; Rolpe was not at the ball to scold her about it. He was probably licking his bachelor wounds and hiding from her righteous fury, the seducing scoundrel. She might love the arrogant and idiotic man, but she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her.
Her frown deepened as dancers twirled by, and she examined the mirror once more—all in vain. It was quite vexing. Still, she would not give up her quest, especially not when Prince Nein-It-All had given an ultimatum. Somewhere in this town was a devious vampire; more likely two. There just had to be, for this was the Black Forest. The truth was out there, and she would be the one to find it and excavate it. She would exceed Rolpe’s and her aunt’s expectations and thereby exonerate herself.
A sudden disturbance at the door caused Greta to turn and watch as three men rushed into the room, all babbling hysterically.
