Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  He took a drink of wine, forcing his worries down. He could think of that tomorrow. Tonight belonged to himself and Kate.

  The minstrels struck up a lively tune and Micah turned to his new wife. “My lady, would you dance with me?”

  She smiled brilliantly. “I would be honored.”

  Micah rose and tugged her to her feet. He hadn’t enjoyed a revel this much since his youth.

  ***

  The hour grew late and Kate tried to catch her breath as Micah escorted her from the dancing to the large table. He fetched a cup of wine for her. Instead of returning to their seats, he pulled her to a quiet corner. Micah nodded toward Marjorie who spoke with Kate’s maids.

  “I think Marjorie is planning the bedding ceremony.”

  Kate’s cheeks burned brighter. She gulped a deep swallow of wine and heard Micah chuckle.

  “I am not one to make my private affairs so public,” he said. “Perhaps I should resort to some thievery.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Thievery?”

  “Aye,” he replied with a mischievous grin. Micah set his wine cup down and tugged Kate’s away. Abruptly, he lifted her into his arms. “I shall steal my own wife away with only one man wise to my actions.” Micah paused and winked at Hubert, who smiled. Silently, Micah moved around the crowd, skirting through the shadows of the great hall.

  Kate wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. “Marjorie will be quite vexed with you when she discovers you have ruined her fun.”

  “Marjorie is always vexed with me.”

  They reached the stairs. Other than Hubert, no one noticed the bride and groom had left the revel. “Thievery suits you well, sir,” Kate said.

  “Ah, my sweet, you will find that I have many talents.”

  Kate’s blush intensified. A part of her feared what awaited her but another part anticipated this night. Micah would not do anything to hurt her. His strength had always been tempered with gentleness.

  Kate glanced up at him and allowed herself to admire his handsome features. She thought of the scars she bore and a surge of worry startled her. Men had called her beautiful once but now… Micah would take her to his bed and see firsthand what pain her captors had wrought.

  Chapter Nine

  Micah stood Kate on her feet, shut the door behind them, and bolted it. He avoided her gaze and moved to the small table, pouring two glasses of wine. Micah marveled at his hesitation. Tonight he would make Kate his wife, in body as well as name.

  He handed Kate a cup and risked a glance at her as she took a long drink. He clearly saw her nervousness but she did not appear to be afraid of him. So why did he delay?

  Micah drank, the wine uncoiling his stomach. He realized the cause of his hesitation. Desire pounded through his body so powerfully that Micah worried he might frighten Kate. The demon he kept so tightly leashed threatened to escape every time he touched her.

  Micah sighed and set his cup down. “Kate…”

  Her eyes met his and he saw it. Fear. His heart sank and he looked at the floor.

  Kate fidgeted. “You…you don’t want me do you?”

  His head shot up. “What?”

  Kate’s cheeks turned a fiery red. “My apologies, Micah…I mean…my lord. I shall return to my own room if there is nothing more.”

  She started to walk away.

  A chill curled down Micah’s spine. His jaw flexed. Kate walked away from him. In turn, she walked away from herself. Did she really think he didn’t want her?

  Again the worry of MacLeary bedding Kate rose within him. Surely, Kate knew Micah tortured himself just by being near her. How could she not realize the battle within him?

  Micah shook his head, trying to think rationally. Kate did not know anything about love. Her experience had shown her the brutality of men. Micah decided to change her perception immediately.

  “Ma chérie,” he whispered and stepped forward.

  She stopped but did not face him.

  Under the soft tendrils of auburn fire, Micah caught a glimpse of the back of her neck. He took another step and traced his fingers through her hair, lightly touching her skin. She shivered.

  “I do want you, chérie.” He moved her hair aside and pressed his lips against her neck.

  She bowed her head. Her body quivered like a taut bowstring. Micah’s tongue touched her, tasting her delicate flesh. He wrapped his arms about her waist.

  Micah buried his face in her hair, savoring the feel of its silken strands and slid his lips up the side of her neck. His teeth tugged lightly on her earlobe. His mouth followed the sleek line back down to the curve of her shoulder. He moved slowly, taking pleasure in the touch of her skin against his lips.

  Kate groaned softly and leaned against him. She depended on his strength, her body conformed perfectly to his. Her head fell back against his shoulder. His mouth traveled to her throat. Micah felt her life–beat pounding vibrantly under his lips. His tongue stroked the pulsing vein.

  Her hand reached up and buried in his long hair, pulling him closer.

  Micah grazed Kate’s tender throat with his teeth, delighting in her shiver and moan of pleasure. His hands moved upward to cup her breasts through her dress. Quickly, Micah loosened the laces of her dress and backed away long enough to pull it roughly from her shoulders. He returned kissing her neck, his fingers toying with her round breasts, soft and supple, fitting perfectly in his hands.

  Micah again backed away to rid himself of his tunic. Kate tried to turn around but he stopped her.

  “Nay Kate,” he whispered. “Let me finish what I have started.”

  “Micah…” Her voice had an edge of desperation that cut through his desire.

  He inched away from her, distracted by the way her beautiful hair caressed her shoulders. “What is wrong?”

  “I don’t want you to see me.” He heard panic in her voice. She tried in vain to pull her dress back up.

  Once again he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She seemed to relax slightly. “You are my wife, Kate, what we do here is blessed by God and the church.”

  “I know,” she choked.

  Micah’s worry grew. “What troubles you, Kate? I am helpless unless I know.”

  She nearly crumpled in his arms. “I am so ugly.”

  Micah blinked in shock. How could she think such a thing? Kate was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He could tell her that…he should tell her that…but something nagged at him. Kate must have a reason for her words.

  “My sweet,” he said softly, grazing her ear with his lips. A soft groan escaped her and he smiled. “I honestly see nothing that offends me. Tell me what I should see.”

  Kate remained silent for a long time, as if weighing his words. Micah took the opportunity to explore her ear with his tongue, tracing each delicate curve.

  “My back,” Kate blurted.

  Micah pulled away immediately. Tiny white lines webbed across her skin. Rage filled him again that a whip had been brought against her. Micah longed to strangle MacLeary. He forced himself to control his anger.

  “Kate,” he said, tracing his fingers over the lines. “To me, these are not blemishes on your flesh but a testament to the courage of your heart. That courage is what makes you beautiful to me. When I see these marks, I do not see scars. I see the strength of your soul.”

  Kate turned in his arms and he allowed her. She needed to see his face to know the sincerity of his words. She studied him for a long time.

  Micah placed her hand over his chest where an errant practice blade had marked his flesh years ago. “I too have my own scars. Do you think me ugly because of them?”

  She recoiled as if he had slapped her. “Nay.”

  His lips quirked. “Then how could I say the same of you?”

  “I am not a knight. I am not supposed to have scars.”

  “All of us have scars whether they be on body or soul.”

  Micah closed his eyes as Kate ran her fingers lightly
down his chest to his ribs and studied a blunted mark there. A fall from a horse, if he recalled correctly. Her fingers continued exploring him. A violent passion lunged, and Micah battled it with all his might.

  Kate traced across the wound his uncle gave him. A forbidden thrill ran through Micah. The demon lashed out. Micah grunted and snatched her fingers away. He wanted to let her explore his body but he couldn’t, he didn’t dare. That was one place she would not touch. He kissed her powerfully, before she had a chance to question his actions. Kate relaxed against him and returned his kiss. Micah’s heart soared, savoring the small victory.

  He continued to caress her, marveling at the feel of her creamy skin under his hands. Kate nuzzled his throat. Micah froze in surprise. She kissed him, her tongue working almost has he had done to her. He closed his eyes delighting in the new sensation.

  Micah’s hands traveled downward, over her dress that caught at her hips. He gently tugged her gown free. It fell in a small heap on the floor. Micah paused, allowing his eyes to feast on her beauty. She was so glorious. He swept her into his arms, devouring her with kisses. One hand slid to the inside of her thigh. He stroked her lightly. Her moan of agony almost broke his control.

  “Micah…” she whispered, returning to kiss his mouth with unveiled passion.

  His fingers traveled slowly upward. He felt the soft curls of the mound of hair and abruptly veered back down.

  “Micah,” she protested.

  He smiled to himself and repeated the action.

  She squirmed slightly. Her hands entwined in his hair. Micah parted her feminine folds and lightly traced his fingers over the slick heat.

  Kate almost convulsed in his arms. Her cry strangled in her throat. She quivered as his fingers continued their journey so exquisitely. The scent of her femininity filled his head and made him giddy. She moaned and thrust her hips forward, instinctively seeking greater pressure.

  Her fingers caressed his chest, exploring every curve of the hard plains, down his flat stomach, and stopped at his braes.

  Micah paused long enough to rid himself of that last bit of clothing and soon they stood locked together in the middle of the room with only the fire in the hearth and their passion for warmth.

  ***

  Kate abruptly backed away. Her head spun and the ache within her increased. She gazed upon Micah in all of his feral glory. His black hair streamed wild about his face, accenting the clean lines of his cheek and jaw. His full lips beckoned her to kiss him. She longed to touch his massive shoulders and broad chest, to run her fingers over the perfect muscle that wrapped tightly across his ribs. She saw every fiber of sinew on his flat stomach.

  He scooped her off her feet and carried her to his bed. Micah stretched over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. His hands stroked along her sides, his mouth trailed a path of liquid heat down her throat. Kate gasped as his mouth covered her aching breast and ignited an inferno through her body. He swirled his tongue around her pearled nipple. Her fingers wove through his wonderfully thick hair, it fell over her, caressing her with silken strands. Micah released one breast to her groan of protest only to move to the other. Just when Kate thought she could bear no more, he recaptured her mouth. His kisses never stopped as his hands explored her body with loving abandon. His touch was gentle yet demanding. Desire surged within her, tingling her nerves. He drove her close to insanity with need.

  Carefully he settled over her, pushing her legs apart with his knees, ravishing her mouth with his tongue. Kate felt him prodding between her legs, the tip of his hardness stroking the soft folds.

  Kate moaned and arched her back, instinctively allowing him entrance. Micah bit back a curse and stopped, trying to retreat, but Kate’s head spun and her body ached. She wrapped her arms around him, lifted her hips, and pulled him down.

  “Kate—” His breath caught and he groaned.

  Fiery pain shot through her.

  Her body felt like it had been torn in half. Her womb burned and her moan turned from desire and into agony. The pain threatened to take her back to that terrible place she had tried so hard to be free of, back to defeat and misery. Kate clawed at the sheets, trying to retreat. She had to escape. There was no joy in this only agony.

  Micah remained unmoving. His body covered hers, pinning her to the bed. His hands cupped her face. “Ma chérie,” he whispered, kissing her lips softly. “Ma chérie, listen to me.”

  The burning pain increased, and she tried to squirm away.

  “I can’t, Micah.”

  “You can,” he said firmly. “You have defeated other fears, you can defeat this one.”

  Kate closed her eyes. His voice echoed in her memory. You never have to face your fears alone. His lips lightly brushed hers.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  Her eyes flew open. How could he think her beautiful with the terrible scars? But this magnificent warrior wanted to love her, to be her husband.

  Micah kissed her again, gently shifting his hips forward. Kate tried to unclench her jaw. What happened to the glorious pleasure? Micah’s muscles shook as he restrained himself for her sake. He stared down at her, his blue eyes rich with lust and worry. He had no desire to hurt her. He cared about what she felt. She touched his face, her fingers traveling over his handsome features then down his chest.

  Kate closed her eyes concentrated on the solid power that flexed under his skin. She was safe in Micah’s arms, pinned under his body. He moved again; his fingers stroking her breast. Pain crumbled into hot desire as he filled her.

  Her body responded to his touch in a way she never thought possible. Fire burned within her and Micah’s passion fed it like dry kindling.

  He wrapped his arms around her, his lips brushing her ear. “Hold me, chérie.” His body flexed over hers.

  She clung to him. His breath rattled in his throat. His hardness thrust again into her, filling the aching void, molding her flesh to his, his rhythm increasing.

  “Micah…” Kate did not understand the sensations careening within her. She could not control herself with conscious thought.

  Micah tightened his hold on her. Kate felt only his driving hardness and the glory of primitive desire. The hot energy in her womb began to build again. Her fingers dug into his muscular back, clutching for some sense of sanity but there was nothing sane about this. Pure desire, pure emotion surged through her veins. He pushed hard and she gasped as he entered her untouched depths. Waves of pleasure crashed over her threatening to send her spiraling into oblivion.

  The pleasure peaked and possessed her, nothing less than exquisite torture. The hot energy within exploded, tearing through her. The seizure claimed her with shattering intensity and she moaned his name. Micah drove himself down, strangling a cry of release, his muscles stood out in sharp relief under his glistening skin. For that moment Kate knew absolute perfection. Then Micah collapsed on top of her, breathing hard, and his body shaking.

  Kate closed her eyes, also trying to catch her breath. For a long moment, they simply clung to each other.

  ***

  Micah tried to push himself up but his shaking arms would not support him. He lay on top of Kate, sucking air into his lungs. Her hair caressed his face, and he nuzzled her ear.

  Micah chided himself, a warrior who could wield a sword in battle for hours, turned into a puddle after a few minutes with his wife. He knew he should move, before his weight crushed the poor girl. Yet his limbs refused to obey him. Micah savored the feel of Kate’s soft body underneath his. Her hands caressed his back, sending shivers over his spine.

  As Micah’s pulse steadied, his mind started to function again. Never had he experienced such magnificence. For the first time, his reasoning abandoned him in the riot of pleasure. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Kate. His gaze halted on a red mark over her collarbone. Micah blinked and pushed himself up farther. He saw small marks of his ardent affection spattered over her skin.

  The
demon had escaped.

  Horror coiled through him. Micah backed away, noting the blood from his assault on her maidenhead. Kate unleashed a passion within him and turned him into nothing more than a rutting animal. The thought sickened him. Micah looked down at her, wanting beg her forgiveness. Kate had trusted him not to hurt her. She asked him to stop but he had not been able to. Kate stared at Micah with dazed contentment, her eyes blameless in their regard. Just like she refused to reproach him for the kidnapping, she would not accuse him of hurting her. Micah had utterly failed her.

  “Micah?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet. She reached up and touched his face, running her fingers through his hair. Micah, trying to seize his torrid emotions, closed his eyes and battled the terrible fiend she loosed within him. Damnation, he wanted to take her again. He wanted to touch and kiss her, to hold her and feel her body under his. Micah had to leave before he ravished her a second time. He couldn’t bear to see the agony in her eyes when he betrayed her faith.

  Now Micah knew why he feared losing control. How could he master this power Kate held over him? Loss of control meant giving up something greater within himself – something he guarded with such vigilance he could not define it.

  Kate seemed to come more to her senses. “Micah, what’s wrong?” She sat up and winced against the pain.

  Micah bolted from the bed and grabbed his clothes. “Nothing,” he muttered. Quickly, he dressed and fled the room.

  ***

  Kate stared at the door. What in the name of heaven upset Micah so terribly? Had she displeased him? She could not think of anything. Her memory of what they shared sent a thrill through her. She never imagined loving a man could be so glorious. Kate did not wish Micah to bolt from the room every time they shared the bed, and she debated if she should try to talk to him.

  Kate rose and put on her chemise then changed the bed linens. She sat at the table with her cup of unfinished wine and stared into the flames of the hearth.