by Lynn Lorenz
At last, we were on our way home to Marden.
My heart lifted as I gathered my cloak around me to fend off the bitter cold and turned up the large collar to shield as much of my face and head as I could. My fingers and toes would have to suffer the cold through the leather that shielded them.
I rode on, until my belly’s talking told me it must be near noon. The snow and gray clouds blocked the sun’s warmth, and all around me the snow steadily fell, piling up on the road, rocks, and trees. Thank God, no wind drove the flakes to add to the misery.
It might have been only in my mind, but I shivered and swore the day grew colder, not warmer, and I searched for the small village where I’d taken a meal. Even Horse had slowed, and his trot had become a fast walk as he made his way through the small drifts of snow.
Just as I had decided my judgment of the time was not correct, the village appeared, like a specter rising out of the mist. I reined Horse to a stop at the inn, dismounted, and rushed inside.
I made my way to the hearth as I ordered a hot mulled wine and pulled off my gloves. Holding my trembling hands to the fire’s warmth, I glanced around the small room.
It looked to me as if the men who had been there before still sat at the tables, as if time had frozen them there. Perhaps the weather had, or the effects of the drink.
I gave them a nod and turned back to the fire. The barkeep brought my wine. I paid him and drank, letting the heated, spiced mixture warm my body from the inside. My belly rumbled, but I had food in my saddlebag. Shame to pay for more, I decided. I’d take something from the bag and eat as I rode the final leg.
Now that I had warmed my body, I could think of other matters. I located the privy and used it, then bought another wine. I stood at the counter and drank it down, feeling its potency flush through my body. Perhaps it would keep me warm for a little while longer.
I braved the door, swung up on Horse, and without my guidance he turned his head to home.
I rode the last of the journey covered in a fine coating of snow. The wine I’d taken at the inn still heated my body, lasting far longer than it should have. With every mile my body seemed to grow hotter, trying to trick me into loosening my cloak and letting in the chill of the air.
As the countryside grew familiar, my heart filled with eagerness at returning home.
Despite what waited me there, good or bad, I would have my son, Joss, and that meant more to me than I had ever realized. His love for me would be a constant, I assured myself.
Even if I had to drag him from Marden, the only place he’d ever called home and away from the only family he’d ever known.
Chapter Ten
Night had fallen miles ago, and the wind now whipped around my head. Snow flurries danced past in my line of sight, then faded in the darkness. We’d passed through the town of Marden, locked down against the cold. Horse plodded, head down, toward the castle.
My body danced between burning heat and freezing cold, my teeth chattered either way, and I cursed my decision to make this journey. I wasn’t a rash man, yet I’d flown from Logan without giving it as much thought as I would have in saner circumstances.
And now here I was, half frozen and half on fire, somewhere on the road. I knew I was on the road because I could still see the walls of the fields guiding us to the castle.
In the distance, a faint light shone. It rode high above the road. A star perhaps? I blinked and wiped the snow from my eyelashes where it clung. No, not high enough in the sky for a star.
Horse kept moving, and as long as I could stay in the saddle, we’d be fine. We’d make the keep. Without knowing, I’d set my sights on that pale light and headed for it.
In the near distance, a large dark shape stood out like a mountain under the light.
Marden Castle.
Home.
“Almost there, boy.” I patted Horse, and he gave me a soft whinny.
I squinted into the darkness. The light burned at the top of the castle’s wall, over the gate. At first, I thought it a vision. We never burned such a beacon. Not as long as I’d been there.
Horse came to the end of the road. The gates were shut tight as per my standing orders. I looked up, ready to call out to the guard.
A figure moved next to the light.
“Drake?” Logan’s voice called down to me. “Is it really you?”
“Logan!” I cried out, praying the wind hadn’t stolen my voice from me. “Open the gate!”
Nothing happened. I sat on Horse as he shifted from hoof to hoof, ready to be in his warm stall. Would I have to get off and knock on the wooden gate for entry? Would my legs even support me? Would the guards even hear me?
I shivered, pulled my cloak tighter, and gathered my breath to yell again, and the icy cold air froze my lungs.
“Logan! Open the gate!” I coughed, barely getting the words out.
A long sliver of light appeared as the gate opened. I don’t think I’d ever been so relieved in all my life. Without having to give Horse a kick, he moved forward. We passed under the lintel and into the protected bailey. The gates closed behind me, and the biting wind lessened.
Logan, Peter, and two armsmen holding torches waited for me. Horse came to a stop, and Logan pulled me, shivering, coughing, and chattering, from the saddle. The men took Horse and led him away. It was a testimony to how cold and tired he was that he went without trying to bite one of them.
“Come, Peter, help me get Drake into the keep.” Logan wrapped his arm around my waist, and Peter took my arm, slinging it over his shoulder.
They half carried, half dragged me inside. I couldn’t feel my feet to walk, or my hands at all. But the minute we entered the great hall, the warmth hit me, and I sighed.
“I’m home,” I muttered and felt Logan’s arm tighten.
“Fool,” he whispered in my ear.
Before I could think, they’d placed me in my chair at the great hearth, my boots, cloak, and vest removed, and a warm blanket wrapped around me. Someone shoved a goblet of mulled wine in my hands and helped me to steady it enough to drink. I gulped a mouthful down, choked, but kept it from coming up.
“Fool,” he said this time, only louder.
“Aye.” I nodded. It was a kinder word than I deserved. I closed my eyes and felt the pull of exhaustion, and again a fire raged inside me. I threw off the blanket to find relief.
“Da!” A shout roused me.
“Joss!” I sat up and gave away the wine, just in time. Joss flung himself into my arms, and I crushed him to me.
“Son.” I kissed his head and ruffled his hair. “I’m back.”
“I was so scared, Da. I thought you’d never come back for me.” His quiet sobs broke my heart. Fool was too kind a word.
“I will always come back for you.” I put him from me and smiled at him. “Did you behave while I was gone?”
“Aye.” He nodded.
“Good. Give me a kiss, then go up to bed. It’s late, I think.” I gave him another hug and set him free. Reluctantly, he went upstairs, only looking back at me a few times.
I slumped back in the chair. “Whose idea was the beacon?”
“Logan’s, my lord.” Peter grinned at me. “He’s had it burning from dusk to dawn since it began snowing.”
I turned at last to my lover to search his face for the answer to the question that had burned in my heart for many days now.
“Duncan is gone. The door unlocked.” His green eyes grew wet. “I never meant to hurt you.” His hand touched mine, and for a brief moment, we held on to each other.
His words nearly broke me, and I had to steady myself to keep from falling into his arms and bawling like a newborn babe. He’d chosen me. He still loved me.
I still belonged to him.
I let him go. “Peter, I have reports from the outposts I need to share with you, but it can wait until tomorrow. And an errand to run also.” I’d have to send Peter to pick up the ring for Logan.
“Aye, Drake.” Pet
er nodded.
My feet and fingers thawed, tingled, and eventually grew warm. I stretched them out, moving them to see if I could. All seemed well. I’d seen men lose toes and fingers from the cold, but it seemed as if I’d survive without taking any damage.
“Can you manage the stairs? If not, I can have a cot brought down to the fire.” Logan asked.
“The stairs and my bed, even if you have to carry me up.” I tried to stand, but Logan again slipped his arm around me, waved Peter away, and led me to the stairs. Together, we made our way up them. Slow going, but there was no urgency now.
I was warm and dry and home. And my duke still loved me.
Logan opened the door to my room, led me inside, and then shut it behind him.
To the right, the door between our bed chambers stood open.
“It’s been that way since the day after you left.” Logan helped me to the bed, and I sat on it, steadying myself on the edge. A fire burned in my fireplace, and something told me Logan had kept it burning also, ready for my return.
With sure hands, Logan undressed me. “Drake, you’re overly hot.” He pushed me back under the quilts and covered me.
“One of the men at the far outpost had a fever.” I didn’t want to admit this chill and flush might be the same, but I could deny it no longer.
“A fever?” Logan’s face twisted, and for a moment I saw the fear in his eyes. Then I cursed myself for forgetting that his good wife had died of a fever, leaving him and Tomas alone.
“It’s nothing. I’m sure it’s not the same.” My words fell on deaf ears; Logan would have none of it.
“It may not, but it may be. In any case, I think we should use our healer’s remedy.” He went to his room and returned in short time with a basin of cool water and a cloth, and the scent of herbs filled the air.
I didn’t refuse him. I hadn’t the heart to remind him it hadn’t worked for his wife, so I lay back and kept silent.
He passed the chilled cloth over my naked chest, legs, belly, repeating it for a long time. Then he rolled me over and ran it across my back, over my buttocks, and down to my feet. I melted into the bed as his tender ministrations brought relief to my flesh, and with just those touches the heat fled my body, leaving me breathing easy and my body relaxed.
“Better?” Logan asked as he dipped the cloth into the basin and twisted the water out to give my body a final swipe. His body and face still held his worry for me.
“Whatever was in that remedy, it worked. I feel much improved. Perhaps it was merely the cold.” I smiled at him.
“Are you sure?” He put the cloth and bowl away and returned to the edge of the bed.
“Aye. On the road, I didn’t think I’d ever get warm again.” I rolled over, reached up, and touched his cheek. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
He took my hand in his and kissed the palm. “Fool.” He smiled as he tucked my arm under the covers. “I’ll be in shortly. Tonight, we warm your bed.”
“And Duncan?” I had to know.
“He finished what he’d come for and left the day after you did.” Logan waited for my next question.
“Did you and he…?” It was weak of me to ask, but right now, I needed assurance.
“Never.” He shook his head.
With a sigh, I fell back against the pillows, my body melting into the soft mattress. It didn’t explain what Logan had brought Duncan here for, but for now, it was good enough.
He went to his room to undress. When he returned, he wore only his sleeping gown. His long blond hair hung loose about his shoulders, just as I loved it. Just as he’d promised me he’d always wear it for me.
“I know the question rattling around in your head, my lord.” Logan grinned. “Why did I send for Duncan?” He came to his side of the bed and sat down.
“Indeed. It had occurred to me.”
Logan shook his head. “This was all my fault. I’d been thinking for a long time about the gift I’d give you this Epiphany, and I’d heard of the men of the north and their talent for body markings.”
“Body markings?” I’d never heard much about Highland men, except they were fierce warriors.
“Aye. They mark their bodies with blue dyes, drawing pictures, mystical symbols, and words. It’s a long and painful process.”
“Is it now?” I reached out and pulled loose the strings of his gown.
“It is. Trust me.” Logan grimaced. “So, I sent for Duncan to do just that. Mark my skin.”
I frowned. This wasn’t making any sense. “How is marking your skin a gift to me?”
“I’d best show you.” Logan sighed, stood, and pulled his gown over his head, shaking loose all his golden tresses. The sight took my breath away, his beauty was so great. He sat again and leaned forward. “See. On my chest. Over my heart.”
I stared at the blue image spanning one side of his chest, above his nipple.
“It’s a bird.” A great, regal-looking bird, wings spread as if preparing to take flight, its long neck arched.
“A swan. A drake, to be exact.” Logan looked into my eyes. “I’ve marked my body for you, Drake. I’m yours. Forever.”
My mouth opened, but once again, he’d managed to steal my words from me.
“It’s”—I swallowed—“the best gift I’ve ever received.” I touched it with my finger.
Logan winced. “It’s still sore.”
“How do they do it?”
“With a needle dipped in ink, and much pain. It took him nearly five days to do this. I could only stand it for a brief time each day. It is why I had to close the door and keep you out. I knew if it stayed open, I’d weaken with desire for you, you would see the design before he finished it, and spoil the present.”
“It’s truly beautiful. I can see the feathers.” I leaned closer to get a better view. “And its eye. Remarkable.”
“He did his best work for us, he said. For lovers, he said, he took his time, made the drawing perfect, and put a bit of his soul into it.”
“Is that what he said?” Damn that Duncan. I’d been so distrustful, so near killing him and worried that he might betray us. I owed him much, including an apology.
“It is. He also enjoyed letting you think there was more than what we were doing going on between us.”
“But you knew that?” I frowned.
“No, not how he tormented you. Not until you’d left. When I told him about it, he apologized to me for his foolish behavior. He never meant to tear us apart.” Logan crawled under the covers and rolled over to me.
I tucked him under my arm as he placed his legs over mine. Entwined, we kissed, our lips touching with such tenderness my heart filled to bursting. My body responded to my lover’s caresses as he ran his hands over me.
I gave a feeble attempt to take control, but he’d have none of it. He pushed me down and rolled on top of me.
“Whose bed do we lie in?”
“Mine, Your Grace.”
“And when we’re in this bed, who is the taker?”
“You are, Your Grace.”
“Indeed. It is my wish that you lie back, relax, and let me take care of you.” He grinned at me as he teased my nipple with his fingers. “Roll over.”
I did, and he settled over me astride my lower back. His hands began their wonderful work, kneading my tired, cold, tight muscles. I groaned as he found knots and untied them with his fingers.
“If I’d known you could do this months ago, I’d have employed you sooner,” I mumbled.
“It would only have spoiled you.” His soft chuckle vibrated through me, sinking me more into a state of relaxation.
I kept my mouth closed and let him work in silence. My shoulders and neck, my sides. He shifted lower and rubbed my flanks and ass, then climbed off me and worked on my thighs, calves, and at last, like manna from heaven, my feet.
My body heated as he pushed and prodded the cold from my blood and flesh, sending a tingling throughout me that had my cock awake a
nd yearning for his touch.
At last, he returned to my bottom, and kneeling between my legs as I made room for him, he caressed me. Teasing, he slid his fingers into the valley and brushed the entrance to my tunnel. I tried to push into it, to make his touch harder, firmer, against my hole.
My cock ached with need and leaked a small pool beneath me. “Logan,” I moaned. “I need you. It’s been so long.”
“Aye, it has. And I have been without my Drake.” He leaned down and kissed the small of my back, working his way over one cheek, then another.
When he parted my globes and his finger pressed against me, I was more than ready to be taken.
“Love, now.” I tried to get to my hands and knees, to prepare myself for him, but a strong hand on my back held me down.
“Stay. Let me cover you.” He reached for the oil on the bed’s side table and poured it over his hand. Warm, silky fingers touched me. A fingertip breached me.
I groaned. “Aye, please.” It had been so long since he’d taken me, even before he’d locked me out. And as much as I love fucking him, I love being fucked by my duke. I’d never tell him how much I loved it, or that I wished he’d come to my room more often, but perhaps I should have, because he always made me feel so good when he did.
His finger dipped and caressed me inside, yet he avoided hitting the spot that drove men wild.
“Logan, have a heart.” I wanted him to do it, wanted him to make me cry out his name as I spilled.
“Drake, have my cock.” He pressed the head of his rod into me, and I pushed back, letting him slide inside as he stretched out over me.
The weight and warmth of him on my back felt like a blanket had been tossed over me, giving me comfort, security, but generating a desire inside me that had to be fulfilled.
He held still as a hidden fawn until I’d made his cock a home, then with a nod of my head, he withdrew, slow and steady and so painstakingly sweet, I nearly cried. My emotional homecoming had nearly been my undoing, and I swore I’d never break in front of Logan.
Although, he’d broken in front of me, when his son had been kidnapped and I returned the boy to him. But a father’s love, expressed in anger and tears, was not the same as the emotion he pulled from me this night.
