Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Watch Me, Desire Me

  His heartbeat drummed inside his chest, raging like the River Gorge after a torrential downpour. Winded, puffing out air, he sat back on the balls of his feet and waited for the strength to return in his legs.

  Finally, when he felt some control, he moved and threw his feet over the side of the bed, and stood up. He walked across the room to the washstand and basin, poured water from the pitcher, and wet a cloth before returning to bed. With aplomb a gentleman understands is necessary when handling delicate matters, he cleansed away his seed from Saxby, himself, and then figured her gown was ruined, he tossed the towel the floor.

  He dressed without speaking, secured his weapons around his waist, and then turned to her. “I have questions I want answered. We will converse at supper.”

  “I usually dine with Milo.” The lie just came out. The thought of facing Juden after what just occurred made her blush. She seriously doubted if she could sit across from him and think clearly, let alone, eat anything. The mere thought terrified her that Juden recognized the craving, need, and aye, the deep-rooted desperation to lay in his arms again.

  Maybe I’m the harlot accused me of being.

  When Juden spoke, she blinked at him. “Excuse me?” Already the man was a distraction.

  “I expect you to join me below stairs within the hour.” He headed for the door.

  There was no subtlety in the words or the meaning. It was clear Juden didn’t ask but gave instructions.

  She would see about that.

  Chapter 9

  The thought the lady would ignore his request seemed impossible to Juden. Yet, here he sat waiting well past the hour he gave her to join him. Periodically, he glanced toward the entryway, which remained empty. He started tapping his fingers over the tabletop in a succinct manner that sounded off in the quiet room.

  Jilst, the youngest and more gregarious of his guards, didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. He leaned into Juden and asked. “The lady doesn’t seem inclined to join us. Shall I go fetch her and see why she delays?”

  “What you can do is cease bending my ear.”

  He never stood on formality with his guards so he wasn’t surprised and didn’t take offense when Jilst questioned him further. “How long do you intend to wait? My stomach feels barren.”

  “It is nothing new. After consuming a boar you remain hungry,” Faison said.

  The other guards, Kerr and Selwyn nodded in agreement.

  “We will wait as long as I care to.” The timeframe for tolerance grew short, Juden knew and kept the opinion to himself.

  Selwyn intervened seeing Jilst about to prick Juden further. “If I were you, I would hold my tongue.”

  “Aye, since we arrived Juden has been, ah, temperamental. Do you wish to feel his sword on your backside?” Faison added with a slight smirk. “Tempera—mental?” Juden repeated.

  All the guards nodded in agreement.

  Unable to help himself, Juden smiled slightly. He didn’t consider himself moody, more set in his ways. He functioned best in an environment that was orderly and uncomplicated, which meant he ate, slept, fucked, and battled. Lady Saxby was a femme fatale, all luscious and curvy, soft as silk, responsive as hell, and definitely a disruption. Not his normal taste in females who weren’t statuesque and voluptuous, in one encounter, he considered the woman prejudiced his appetite for the fairer sex. The thought made him grin at the gratifying possibilities she presented. There was trepidation also, because he had a preconceived idea of what she would be like. She already proved him wrong, possibly in many ways, he thought glancing around the hall.

  The interior was immaculate, not a dust ball, web, or hint of dirt exists on any surface in the room. The rushes covering the floor were fresh and had a subtle scent of lavender. The multi-faucet stone floor’s luster was evident in the way he could see the intricate detail of cream, gold, and browns in each square. There were a few chips, no mildew or dirt infested the cracks.

  He ran his fingers over the surface of the table, noticing how they glided smoothly. The grain was flawless, polished, and gleamed. His chair comfy on his backside from the thick, fluffy cushions he rested on. The chandelier sparkled, sconces gleamed, and even the hearth looked recently scrubbed clean. No residue on the spit, ashes, or soot was detected, almost as if the item was never used. He knew better. The remnant smell of charred wood and smoke reached his nostrils.

  When he arrived, he noticed few servants about. Yet, the manor’s upkeep resembled that cared for by a slew of servants. They way everything stood in perfect order told him someone worked hard to keep the dwelling pristine.

  If he hazarded a guess, the person was Lady Saxby. It was odd, if unheard of, for a woman of gentle birth would take to her hands, knees, and do the work of a servant, added to his appreciation of her, and misconception. Again, she surprised him.

  The sudden movement in the doorway caught Juden’s attention. He studied the girl hurrying toward him wondering why his niece appeared as jittery as a frightened rabbit. She stopped directly in front of him, head bowed, studying her feet while she spoke. “Uncle, Lord DeCapri informed me you would be visiting and I was to ensure you are taken care of and all your needs are met.”

  “Carline, can you not look at me whilst you speak?”

  Carline lifted her head up, eyes wide, and whispered. “You know my name?”

  “Of course, I know my niece.”

  Carline blushed, lowered her lashes, and then nodded. “I hope everything is satisfactory thus far?”

  “I have no complaints.” Except Saxby’s appearance, but he didn’t say as much.

  “That is good. Supper will be served as soon as Mother and Priest Manner join us.”

  “We will wait for Lady Saxby,” Juden said mildly.

  “Your wait may be extensive. . She decided to dine in her room and ignore her guest.” Megatha sniffed disapprovingly. “I spoke to Milo about his wife’s disrespect.” She waved her arm with indifference. “I’m afraid she is a lost cause.” Megatha continued into the room, a swirl of pink and burgundy flounce gown strained against her bosom, the wide hem sweeping the floor as she walked with a mannish stride toward him. Juden felt a wave of nausea hit as Megatha’s sickly sweet perfume invaded his nose and blocked his senses to read her energy.

  Megatha stared down at him with her hawkish nose. “Milo is not well. He doesn’t need any unnecessary stress adding to his delicate state. How long do you intend to stay?”

  Juden forced a smile. “As long as required,” he said noncommittally.

  Megatha eyed him suspiciously, the expression tightened her features, thinned her lips, and made the skin around her eyes and lips resemble a dry prune. The years hadn’t been kind to his sister. It was obvious, and he considered what type of life she led since her husband’s death. It was rumored he left her wealthy. Draped in brilliance, the latest fashion, though gaudy, bespoke someone who was prosperous. While Carline dressed in an oversized gown, nondescript attire, and wore her hair pulled back in a severe knot that disguised her youth and appeal. Interesting, he thought.

  Juden stood up as did his men when Megatha reached the table. They waited until she sat before taking their own seats. The only respect he showed his sister.

  Their encounters were rare, which was more than enough for Juden, because he could extend civility to Megatha for only so long. She didn’t try to hide how she felt about him. As far as she was concerned, he was an abomination of Oslei, and took every opportunity to let him know. Juden ignored her. His attention focused on Saxby’s delay.

  Megatha eyed Carline. “Priest Manner said you were late for confession. Why did you delay?”

  “I didn’t feel well, Mother. It was only ten minutes,” Carline muttered.

  “Oslei frowns on sloth. You will go to your knees and beg forgiveness for being inconsiderate of the priest time…two hours of prayer or I will take a strap to you.”

  Juden raised his hand seeing the appalled looks on his guard’s faces. He wait
ed until they settled before he intervened. “I don’t think whipping the girl for a minor offense is warranted.”

  Megatha raised her chin. “Carline is my child. I will rear her as I see fit.”

  Juden eyed Megatha, and spoke low and firm. “That wasn’t a request.” He made his point clear.

  Megatha didn’t like it, but didn’t challenge his word.

  He turned his attention when the hounds started barking. He watched a thin man walk into the room and with the dogs nipping at him, he hurried over to the table. Juden filled his nostrils with the priest’s scent, looked him up and down, and then said, “Priest Manner, I presume.” He took in his measure and decided he didn’t like him. Not sure why he came to the conclusion, but his empathetic nature was rarely, if ever, wrong. Something about the priest didn’t sit well with him, and he was sure as time passed the dark side of the man would reveal himself.

  “Aye, I reside over Dandelion’s flock of souls. My recent arrival just in time, as I found there is much to do here. I’m afraid religion hasn’t been a focal point at your brother’s home until Lady Megatha steered matters in the right direction.” Megatha nodded in agreement. “I intend to keep the fires of Oslei at bay, on my knees night and day, I pray for the dwellers of this manor with conviction and hope Oslei hears my prayers.”

  Priest Manner would have droned on, but it was all Juden could take. “I’m sure Milo and Lady Saxby are appreciative of your prayers,” he said.

  “Humph. ‘Tis difficult to know what Lady Saxby thoughts are, as she makes herself scarce,” Megatha said. “I wonder why,” Juden said, dryly.

  Megatha snapped her fingers for the cook to serve the meal.

  “We will wait on Lady Saxby. Excuse me.”

  Juden took the steps two at a time, stalked down the corridor, and entered Saxby’s room without knocking. She whirled around, quickly covered her breasts with the towel, and gawked at his audacity.

  “I thought I asked you to join me within the hour. Why do you delay?”

  “If you recall, you made a demand not a request.”

  In his mind, that was more reason for her to obey. She was intentionally insolent and it seemed to puzzle Juden. For a second, he was speechless. He recovered, leaned into Saxby and said, “I don’t care for brazen women.”

  “Nor do I like men who are bullies.” Her retort was quick, waspish.

  Shortly, disjointed by her snappy comeback, he merely stared at her. “Do you come down for supper on your own accord or must I assist you?” His eyes roved over her state of undress. He added, “Clothed or not.”

  “You would not dare?” Saxby said, clearly shocked by the warning.

  “Lady, if you knew me, you would know I don’t make idol threats. Trust me.”

  Bold grey collided with emerald in a burst of defiance.

  Saxby backed down. “I will be there shortly.”

  “You have five minutes.” With that said, Juden turned and left her alone.

  Chapter 10

  All the men came to their feet when Saxby entered the room except Priest Manner. He held his cup of wine, ready to drink, and then froze as several pairs of eyes looked fixedly at him.

  “Lady Saxby doesn’t stand on formality,” Priest Manner muttered.

  Juden raised his eyebrow a fraction.

  The priest hopped to his feet.

  She tried to put a wide berth between her and him, make a mad dash to the other side of the table, when Juden caught her elbow. The hounds bound to their feet, tossed back their massive heads, and growled viciously. They started across the room and halted when Juden eyed them and uttered something under his breath.

  Saxby stood their amazed when the animals dropped to their haunches and started whimpering.

  “You will sit by my side. I wish to talk with you and don’t intend to shout each inquiry across the table. If you please.” Juden stepped back and motioned for her to take a chair. Proper decorum required she not be rude. It took a force of nature not to do the cowardly thing and flee Juden’s penetrating gaze. Reluctantly, she sat down and promptly decided facing the men with Juden was easier.

  Maybe, maybe not, as all of them studied her like some oddity. As bold as Juden they examined her, not rudely, nevertheless she felt thoroughly investigated. Their observation was inquisitive. Perhaps, as much as hers, Saxby thought doing her own inspection.

  They were giants. The men were a conglomerate of hues, and each distinguishable by their unique appearance. The one to Juden’s left had to be the eldest. It had nothing to do with his physical appearance, but his mannerism and unassuming and commanding nature. His brunette hair was silvery at the temples, deep-set brown eyes showed wisdom when he smiled. His face well-structured, a prominent nose, set chin, all defined a regal air of importance he wore gracefully.

  Laughing with sky blue eyes that twinkled devilishly described the blonde sitting next to the man on Juden’s right side. He seemed easy to amuse, grinned readily, with him the conversation at the table was continuous and engaging, and held her attention. The boyishly appealing charmer came across as easygoing and harmless, though she remained herself he was one of Juden’s guards, which probably meant he had a dangerous side. It would be a safe assumption Juden didn’t surround himself with men simply for amusement.

  By Oslei, the man closest to her was a tree trunk, and appeared as if he could split a log with his bare hands. Even from a seated position, she still craned her neck to meet the brilliant hazel intense eyes that watched her as perceptively as she studied him. Surely, if warranted, he could rip a man apart with his hands. Extremely big hands, she noticed his long thick fingers fumbled to hold the delicate cup of wine that he tried to handle without crushing the container.

  The last guard had a mysterious presentation. Personified by his matching dark as sin complexion reminding her of a starless midnight that complimented the covert nature he exhibited. His eyes were light brown with oblique ends and made him resemble the predatory felines that roamed the land. His physique perfect, all toned and masculine, a hunter’s build designed to be stealth and for speed and capable of taking a man down without warning.

  The charmer sat back in his chair and looked at Juden. “Are you going to introduce us?”

  The mature one said, “Or should we continue to stare as if we have no manners as she peruses us?”

  Saxby blushed unaware of her obvious stares.

  One by one, Juden introduced his men. Saxby listened carefully to remember their names. The mature one was Faison, Charmer was Jilst, Kerr was the tree, and the hunter was Selwyn. She acknowledged each, and they returned the greeting with a bow of their heads.

  “Now that the pleasantries are over, I have questions for you, Lady Saxby,” Juden said, motioned for the cook to serve the meal, and then turned back to her. “I noticed a multitude of things that I find distasteful concerning the exterior of Dandelion. I will start with what offends me most. Being prepared and protected is paramount. Why is the holding unmanned? There is no gatekeeper, men in the towers, and the perimeter wall is crumbling, leaving Dandelion prime for an attack?”

  “Milo does not think there is a need for such maneuvers. There has not been an attempted siege on Dandelion in years. At the worst, scavengers enter the compound at night for food. Otherwise there didn’t seem a reason for alarm.”

  “Faison,” Juden said.

  “Aye, Juden, I will see to the matter immediately.”

  Saxby looked between both men. “Is there a reason you think we are in danger?”

  “Not to sound discourteous, ‘tis no secret about Milo’s failing health. If he succumbs the buzzards will stop circling and pick this place apart,” Juden said.

  “Who would be so foolish?” Saxby said.

  Megatha squared her shoulders and looked affronted. “The DeCapri name is still formidable. Not to mention we are in favor with the King. An attack would be a direct affront to the Grace. I think your assumption is presumptuous, if not unwarranted
.”

  “Not if Milo dies, this is possible.”

  Megatha made the sign of the cross over her chest. “You speak with indifference toward your brother, the Lord of Dandelion.”

  “I speak facts. My feelings toward Milo and his impending death or not doesn’t come into the equation. Megatha opened her mouth to challenge him. Juden’s look said, “Don’t.” With Megatha silenced, he continued. “When I reached the gates, I noticed a stench. This means the watering hole is stale and not refreshed daily from the nearby stream. Why is this?”

  Saxby said, “The clay piping of the trenches is damaged in several places. ‘Tis a waste to pump water from the stream, as it never makes it to the watering pond or wells. I ceased trying a long time ago. If needed, buckets of water are carried to the holding. Most go to the stream to bath and for cooking, I have water fetched to the kitchen.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to have the necessary repairs made?” Juden said.

  “I don’t disagree.”

  Juden looked at her as if to say “well.” Saxby shifted uncomfortably. He prodded her, saying, “I don’t see a lack of man power needed to not only repair the trenches, fetch barrels of water to the manor daily and do any chores and repairs necessary.”

  “Milo’s men are not laborers. Their duty is to protect Dandelion. ‘Tis Milo’s edict and I don’t care to disagree or debate such with my husband.” She defended Milo in front of Juden. It was the right thing to do. She spoke to Milo countless times about the needed repairs, and he turned a blind eye and deaf ear to her request. Sometimes she feared he intentionally wanted Dandelion to go to waste, a show of defiance, for whatever reason, he made it clear she was to leave the exterior of the dwelling to his orders. There were none, of course, respect required she remain silent, and not argue that point with him.