by Glenda Diana
Her eyes widened just a fraction before her thin brows tilted in a slight frown. “Is that like worrying about a storm you see miles away? It could reach you or go completely around. Did it ever enter your mind I might be barren? We shouldn't worry what tomorrow might bring. Only this day counts ... this minute ... this second.”
“Are you barren?”
“How should I know!” Thorton snapped, emphasizing her irritation by stamping her foot. “To my knowledge, all virgins are barren.”
Blake mentally battled against the different emotions threatening to drown him. He gave up the fight with a heavy sigh. “Look at me, Thorton. Do you think me too ugly?”
Hurt laced his gruff voice; Thorton felt his pain. But she reacted on the first thing that entered her mind. She punched his shoulder. Anger such as she had never felt welled up inside her. How did someone so handsome think so little of himself? She wanted to throttle everyone who had brought him to this sorry point.
Blake rubbed his shoulder. “What kind of answer is that?”
“A deserving one.”
“Why do I even bother to expect a reasonable reply to come from your mouth?”
Thorton had the audacity to smile. “You want reasonable? You will undoubtedly think I'm brazen if I tell you what I truly think.”
“I already think you brazen.”
“Among other unflattering opinions.”
Blake's only reply was a slight lift of a brow.
“Better get used to me, Baron. I'm going to change your ill-thinking. I plan on telling you every waking minute how beautiful you are.” She lowered herself to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I'm not at all what is considered ‘proper.’ I give straightforward answers and I expect the same. Do you want to make love to me?” she whispered, brushing her mouth against his. “All you have to do is tell me no and I'll leave.”
Hot blood pumped through Blake like a raging flood of fire. The word hovered on his lips for a mere second, then vanished. He pulled her against him as his mouth slanted over hers. God, this was what he had constantly thought about ... and craved.
Her body turned soft on him. Her murmur sounded like a purr. She tugged at the back of his hair, demanding more, and damn it, he wanted to give it to her. Slowly he stood, cradling her against his chest. He made his way to the bed. Carefully, he laid her upon the mattress. Her eyes had turned a molten gold, while her tongue licked at her lips.
“Does this mean you want to make love to me?”
Blake gave a harsh laugh. “Since the first time you looked at me with those eyes.” A groan came from deep within him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, running her hands up his powerful chest. “You make me feel ... I am not sure of the right word ... weak ... as fluttery as a butterfly trying out her wings for the first time.”
“I want you, Thor.” He lowered himself, pressing his body to hers. “I'm so bloody tired of fighting this need. Open your wings and let me show you how butterflies soar to heaven.”
Thorton moaned in delight.
With shaky hands, Blake untied the three ribbons of her nightgown. His hands faltered at the sight of her pearly white skin. When he started to pull back, she took his hand and guided it to her breast. Her smile was all the reassurance he needed.
Taking a calming breath, he removed her silky white gown and let his eyes roam over her lush body. She was perfect, from her glorious red hair down to her pert toes. She had to be one of God's most beautiful creatures.
His eyes hungrily traveled over every line, every curve, from her slim ankles, to her full thighs, pausing at the nest of reddish gold curls covering her woman's mound. After several heart-stopping seconds, he let his gaze move to her slightly rounded stomach, to her small waist, then on to her alabaster breasts with their pouting coral tips.
“Blake,” she moaned as his heated gaze left a trail of fire in its wake.
“Roll over.”
Obediently, she did as he told her, then shivered when she felt his wet, hot mouth devouring the backs of her legs. She gasped when his hands grasped her hips, bringing her to a kneeling position. A groan vibrated through the room; she was too dazed to realize at first it had come from her.
He ran his tongue between the cleft of the firm round globes of her derrière, then smiled when she nearly came up off the bed. “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Lay down and let me taste all of you. Let me feed this hunger of mine.”
Thorton withered with each scrape of his teeth, with each fiery lick of his tongue. She found herself flipped over onto her back, as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her startled eyes raised, locking with his searing gaze. She held out her arms to him, wanting him to come to her. But he shook his head.
“Blake.”
“Not yet,” he whispered, blowing gently at the triangle of curls. “I have to make sure your body is ready for me.”
“It is.”
“Not yet, but almost. Oh, how I've craved for the sweet taste of you. It's been too long denied. I will please you beyond anything you have ever known.”
“You already do. Now, it's my turn to please you.” Thorton tried to sit up, but she couldn't move with his arm across her middle.
“No.”
“Yes.”
At the sound of her soft sob, Blake smiled. “Later, sweetheart. I promise.”
All protest died on her lips when his mouth settled on the very core of her heat. Not once had she thought of lovemaking in this manner. Never would she have thought it possible. It was heaven ... it was hell ... and she loved this new explosive experience.
He growled when she grasped handfuls of his hair as her body found its first peak. Thorton would not relinquish her hold on him. She tugged him up the length of her body.
“Please,” she panted.
“Please, what?”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I don't know.”
Blake cradled her in his arms. His heart swelled with tenderness so foreign to him that it took him a moment to realize what it was. “It's all right, Thor,” he murmured against her ear. “Everything is going to be all right.”
He yanked loose the tie on his robe and tossed the garment to the floor, then fit his body to hers. That's when he noticed how swollen her bottom lip was. Apparently, she had bitten it in an effort to keep silent. He traced the hurt with the tip of his tongue. He fully understood the confusion he saw reflected in her eyes, the unsettling brink she found herself teetering upon, for he felt it, too. It was like being swept up into the center of a raging typhoon.
“Are you going to make me your wife?”
Instead of answering with words, he used his body. The abundance of her juices smoothed his entry. Blake held his passion in ragged control as he let her run wild with her first experience. Her uninhibited response drove him toward the bright shimmering lights that seem to flash above them, beckoning them to climb onward to the heavens and beyond.
Thorton cried out his name. Blake answered. Together they burst into a thousand fiery fragments. Clinging to each other as they cascaded, spinning downward to earth.
Rolling to his side, Blake pulled her to him. The thin layer of skin had pronounced her innocence, and at the same time, heightened his passion. He had wanted to be so gentle, but her nails had dug into him like claws, making him forget his better intentions.
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths in an effort to calm his racing heart. Had it been so long since he'd made love that he'd forgotten its magnificence? He didn't think so. Looking at the red hair fanned out over his chest, he decided it was this woman who had brought him to such an explosive release.
Thorton breathed in the scent that was theirs alone. Surely no one had ever felt like this. He had made her burn with such fierceness, one she had never before felt or even knew existed. So, this was making love? Even if someone had taken the time to explain this to her, she would have never believed them. It was glorious. But s
he fully understood it was Blake who made it that way. No other man could bring forth these feelings.
She groaned in disappointment when he got out of bed. He walked to the washbasin and wet a cloth. When he sat beside her and began washing blood from her inner thighs, she turned red with embarrassment. She went over everything they had shared, remembering how she had clung to him, chanting his name. Her embarrassment increased as she wondered if he thought her too wanton.
Tossing the rag on the floor, he climbed in bed, and without so much as one word, he arranged her so she lay sprawled on top of him. He liked the feel of her soft body against his hard one, laying chest-to-chest, face-to-face, and groin-to-groin.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered as his fingers traced the delicate line of her jaw.
“Those were my words, Baron,” she replied saucily, trying to ignore her chagrin. “Is it always like that?”
He smiled at the shyness he heard in her words. “No.” It was the first time he had also experienced anything quite so deeply, so completely, soul-shattering.
Thorton laid her head on his chest, a smile on her lips. She promptly fell asleep listening to the beating of his heart.
Blake held her tight, not wanting to close his eyes in fear she would vanish. Reality told him what he had experienced was nothing more than a fantastic dream. Only dreams were this good. Dream or not, he wanted to get his fill of her. He almost laughed at such a thought. It would take more than one night to get his fill of the she-devil he could now claim in all aspects as his wife. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the fragrant scent of her hair and prayed, if it was a dream, he could sleep a little while longer.
When he later awoke, the room was still cast in darkness. His undisciplined wife was seductively rubbing her lush body against him, stimulating his sleeping body to wakefulness.
Rolling over, he pinned her beneath him. “Thor, go back to sleep,”
With her fingertip, she traced the scar on his left cheek, then repeated the caress on his right. “You're so handsome.”
He tried to stop her hands as they moved downward. “We cannot. ‘Tis too soon.”
“Is that what you tell the woman you visit at the inn?”
“Thorton,” Blake growled, lowering his face until his nose touched hers. “Has anyone ever told you what a little witch you are? No? Then I suppose no one told you it's not proper to ask a man such a question.”
“Even if that man is my husband?”
“Even so.”
“That's ridiculous. It must have been a man who came up with that. Tell me, Blake, is it like this with her?”
“God, you are bullheaded.”
“Tell me, please,” she whispered, placing tiny kisses over his jaw.
“There is no other woman. When I go to the inn, I stay in a room by myself.”
Leaning back, she searched his eyes. “Why?”
“Because you drive me insane.”
For a moment, she frowned. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“Both. Now, go back to sleep.”
“I'm not tired ... nor am I sore.”
“Yes, you are,” Blake ground out.
“I think we should try again. Let's find out if it's as good the second time around.”
A moan of defeat filled the room when her hand closed around his hard shaft. “God, Madame ... I do love the way you think.”
Her giggles soon turned to sweet, panting moans.
Chapter Seven
“Good morning, Baroness.”
Thorton squinted into the dark stable, where the deep resounding voice came from, even as she took a step back into the bright sunshine and security. Her eyes widened slightly as a shadowy form moved closer, revealing it to be a hulking man. So, this was the man she heard the maid Dora whispering about. No wonder women seemed to follow him blindly, she thought, moving back another space as he continued to advance. The man stood nearly as tall as Blake and Lucas. Light brown hair brushed against wide shoulders. He was handsome, but she knew that beneath his fine, rugged looks lay a thieving heart.
“Are you Thomas?”
“At your service,” Thomas Coalby murmured. “What service would you be liking, Milady?”
Thorton ignored the suggestive remark, deciding to play ignorant. “I want you to come play warrior with me,” she stated with an impish smile. “I need some practice and Master Wilson said you were quite good with a sword.”
“What?” Thomas asked, his mind catching only a few of her words. Oh, he'd love to come play her, he thought with a smile.
His blue eyes widened when she pulled a large sword from behind her back. The blade gleamed in the morning sun. He almost laughed aloud. “So, you want to play warrior, do you? Does the Baron know you're out and about ... looking for sport?”
The sword came within inches of his chest. “Do you wish to play or not? I haven't all day.”
Thomas was stunned by the ease in which she lifted and arced the large sword. He could see the fire in her eyes and felt his body respond.
“Lead the way,” he said, his large hand covering hers as he reached for the sword.
Thorton pulled her hand free. Smiling, she turned away.
* * * *
Blake glanced at the clock again. It was past time for Thorton to arrive. Every day since their wedding, she had made it her duty to bring his lunch tray. And every day he made it a point to ignore her. Today was going to be different.
After their second joining last night, Blake had lain awake wondering what had gotten into him. Continuously he reminded himself who she was. Had she seemed more than slightly determined last night? Had she actually wanted him out of desire or was there another reason for consummating their vows? It would be a perfect form of revenge on her part. If she could make him fall in love with her, she could end it all and walk away.
She was in for a surprise, if that was her game. He was a master of battlefield strategy, was known during the war for his cunning ability and knowledge of second-guessing his opponent, so her scheme would not work.
His thoughts came to a halt when the door opened. In walked Griggs carrying a tray laden with dishes. With a lift of his pointed chin, Griggs placed the tray on the desk.
“Where the hell is my wife?” Blake asked in irritation. Had the woman thought him already hooked after one night?
Griggs raised a bushy brow as he straightened his coat. “Madame said she needed a bit of ‘fun’ this morning, Milord. Something about turning the field beside the stables into a training field.”
Blake jumped to his feet. What in blazes did she mean by ‘fun?’ She was up to mischief, of that he was sure. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”
“Who am I to question my Lady? I'm but a lowly servant, running to and fro. My sole purpose is to meet your every demand with a smile.” Griggs sighed wearily.
“Shut-up, you old crow!” Blake yelled over his shoulder as he stormed from the room.
Blake heard the shouts coming from the direction of the stables and took off running. As the shouts increased, so did his anxiety. Something had happened, his mind screamed. He came to a skidding stop at the edge of the crowd and immediately began pushing his way through. His breath caught in his throat, while his knees almost buckled at the sight before him.
Thorton stood in the center of the field facing the stable master, Thomas. The man's chest heaved with every breath. In his hands he held a broadsword that belonged to the suit of armor in the upper hallway ... and he had it pointed directly at Thorton.
Blake started toward them with full intentions of ripping Thomas in half, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Blake spun around; his black eyes glared into Lucas’ brown ones.
Blake jerked loose from Lucas’ hold. “How can you stand here? That man could kill her.”
“There's no harm,” he replied with a shrug.
“Are you blind, man?”
“She's practicing. She wouldn't want you to interfere. She's almost finishe
d.”
Blake thought surely his heart would stop as he turned back toward the circling couple. Thomas’ arms were the size of tree trunks. There was only one thing to do, Blake thought. If Thomas so much as hurt one hair on Thorton's head, he would kill him, the others would have to get down on their knees to find enough of the man to bury.
Thomas wasn't worried about anything except his opponent. She was as quick as any he had ever seen. He decided that she was a bit touched. What woman in her right mind would play with swords? For that matter, what woman in her right mind would marry the Beast of Stonecrest?
Not that he had anything against Blake Bradley. The man had made him master of the stables. He also had an attic filled with forgotten treasures, treasures that would make Thomas a rich man. Of course, he also got a fair price for whatever bit of news on the Bradleys he could deliver to the snooty hobnob, Mr. Green. But that money Thomas gave to his lovely Aunt Laran. Though she made good money on her back, Thomas still felt the need to help her.
Thomas ran an appreciative eye over the woman in front of him. It wasn't fair that a man like the Baron, hideous and scarred, should be fortunate enough to have this ravishing hellion as a wife and bed mate.
The Beast probably didn't even know what to do with such a woman. But Thomas did. He had been raised to please women like her. His sweet and always-ready aunt had shown him all the tricks. Thomas had been a most willing and eager student.
“Come, sir knight. Your mind is wandering. If I knew this was all the challenge I would receive, I would have gotten one of the lads to play.” Thorton held out her small sword.
Thomas grinned. He had a lance he would love to use on this beauty. Someday, he thought. He gave her the smile that had tamed many maidens’ hearts. He knew how handsome he was; the wenches all came to him for his favors. Hell, the whores at the Partridge and Hound Inn paid him ... not with coin, but with secrets they acquired from other servants and from the gents themselves.
Thomas pulled his thoughts back to the present, to the woman. “I would love to play with you, Madame.”
