Sandra Owens

by The Letter

  He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “So even if I am right, I’m to stay quiet and allow you to make mistakes that might risk your safety?”

  “No, and I hear the anger in your voice. If you get mad now, you will stop listening again. What I’m trying to tell you is this. Something changed in me after Leo. I can no longer be a meek lamb that follows you about waiting for instructions. I have a brain, and it is not a stupid one. Mostly. I say that because it was unwise of me to go to the school without Gordon and Rory.”

  “I am pleased you at least realize that.”

  “I do. If instead of ordering me not to go, you had discussed it with me, had realized how much it meant, and asked me not to go alone, I never would have.”

  The truth rankled. Dare he hope if they discussed every bloody thing to death, she would see it his way?

  “I won’t always agree with you, but when I don’t we will have to find ways to compromise,” she said.

  Damn Leo to hell and back for taking away his chance to have an obedient wife.

  Is that what you truly want? If he thought about it, it sounded rather boring. His mother had said she and his father had fabulous fun making up after their disagreements. That was a benefit he could happily embrace.

  “Why are you grinning? You make me nervous when you do that in the middle of a serious discussion.”

  It would be a mistake to admit to where his mind had gone. “Sorry, I was recalling an argument Bunny had with Priscilla.”

  She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Pardon?”

  “Well, it does relate to what we are discussing. You see, the night Bunny wanted carrots and the others wanted bowls of milk, Priscilla called Bunny a selfish, peculiar-looking cat for thinking only of herself. The claws came out and the fur rose as they circled each other, each certain they were right. And then an amazing thing happened. Peggy wobbled between them and negotiated a compromise.”

  He waited.

  She bit down on her lower lip, drawing his eyes to it. Before the night was over, he was determined to nibble on that lip, along with other parts of her. He lifted his gaze to hers. She was dying to ask, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  So he waited some more.

  “Damn you, Michael, for making me ask a question about imaginary cats and rabbits. What was the compromise?”

  He glanced at Peggy. “I would swear I see a three-legged cat curled on my bed. If I am imagining her, then perhaps I am mad. If so, I blame you.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “But back to your question. The answer was so simple I felt stupid for not thinking of it. Peggy said to put carrots in the bowls of milk. Wasn’t that brilliant?”

  Her lips twitched. “I will admit it was clever.”

  He moved to the stool at her feet and took her hand. “Listen. In all seriousness, I heard everything you said, and you are right. I was a donkey’s bottom, and I’m sorry. Truly. I will always have a need to take care of you and I can’t change that. What I can change is how I go about it. As Peggy proved to me, there is always a compromise to be found.”

  “What if you sometimes forget? What if you get on your I AM RIGHT arrogant high horse and ride over me? I don’t want to feel like I have to leave you every time I feel like you are squashing me like a bug under your shoe.”

  Was that how she felt? “We need a code word, something you can say that will remind me of the consequences if I don’t listen. I can’t bear to lose you, Diana, I can’t.”

  “Donkey’s bottom.”

  He gave a burst of laughter. “That would do it, for sure.” She placed her palm on his cheek and he leaned into it. He had her back, thank you, God.

  “Please understand, I am not trying to squash you either. I don’t want you to fear expressing your opinion, even if it sometimes causes an argument.”

  “Plaisir fabuleux.”

  “Arguments are fabulous fun?”

  “I have been informed by a reliable source they can be. Would you like me to show you? Please say yes.”

  “I think it is time for you to see what you are getting.”

  Now they were coming to her second problem. He was going to enjoy proving to her just how much he desired her. “I am getting you. Nothing else matters.”

  “Leo said I was repulsive, and you would not want me.”

  Bloody bastard. “Listen. He lied to you, Myana. I love you. How many times and in how many languages do you need to hear me say it before you believe me? A hundred, a thousand, a million? In English, French, or Latin? Tell me what I must do and I will.”

  “We shall see.” She stood and walked past him.

  Michael turned on the stool. “What did he do to you? You need to tell me everything, and then we will forget he ever existed. First, I want to show you something. Come and sit for a minute.”

  Her hand was on the buttons of her gown, but she seemed relieved for the delay. He went to the table and pulled a rose out of the vase. This idea had occurred to him when he had pricked his finger and he hoped she would believe his words. He returned to his chair and held up the flower, studying it. “Would you say this is beautiful?”

  She turned a dull look on the rose. “Of course.”

  “I don’t think you could find five people who would say it is not lovely. Interesting thing about a rose, however. It has thorns.” He twirled the flower in his hand and watched her from the corner of his eye.

  She drew herself up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”

  “That surprises me as you are an intelligent woman, but very well, I will explain. When you look at a rose and see its beauty, do you see the thorns? I know I don’t.”

  She shook her head.

  “Didn’t think so.” He picked up the small knife he had placed on the table earlier and trimmed the thorns from the stem. “This is what I see when I look at you.” He held the up the rose. “Perfection, Diana. I see perfection.” He handed it to her.

  She ran her finger down the smooth stem. “You haven’t seen my thorns, so how can I believe you? I have scars all over my body.” She lowered the rose to her lap and stared at it. “Leo said I am as ugly as a well-used whore.”

  Through clenched teeth, he said, “And you will take the word of the sorriest excuse for a man I’ve ever known over mine? Answer me this. Would you have looked at me with disgust if I returned from a war with a scarred body?”

  She jerked her face up. “No, never. But those would have been scars of honor inflicted upon you in battle.”

  “Do you think your scars are not those of honor? Christ, you battled our enemy, alone mind you, for ten long years and each mark on your body is a testament to your courage. And consider, during that time, you somehow managed to raise a fine boy. Because of you, our son will not grow up to be anything like Leo. Show me your thorns, Myana.”

  Her gaze returned to the rose. “Will you blow out the candles?”

  “No.” He would give her almost anything, but she needed to do this so she could put her doubts behind her.

  “I see.” Her voice trembled and her eyes closed.

  A heartbreakingly visual shudder passed through her. Somehow, he managed to resist telling her she didn’t have to do it.

  She dropped the rose on the table and stood. Turning to face him, she unbuttoned her gown, pulled it over her head and dropped it at her feet and then removed her chemise. The burning fire cast dancing shadows across her milk-white skin. Slowly exhaling the breath he had been holding, he let his gaze roam over her.

  Her eyes were focused somewhere over his shoulder and he was relieved she wasn’t looking at his face. He was sure his fury was clearly visible. Scars obviously made by a knife covered both of her legs from her knees to her thighs and another was on her left side, but the worst was the mysterious ragged patch on the inside of her right breast.

  He stood and circled her. Stopping behind her, he gathered her hair and d
raped it over her shoulder, and then touched the burn mark on her back. With extreme effort, he forced the rage from his voice.

  “Tell me about this one.”

  ****

  Diana shivered when his finger touched the scar. Not even when her husband had tied her naked to her bed had she felt this exposed and vulnerable. Afraid and hurting, yes, but she had never cared about Leo’s opinion of her.

  His finger still rested on the burn mark and she tried to keep her voice steady. “His cigar, but as for the reason, he never needed one.” Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. She could do this and she could do it without crying.

  His warm breath breezed across the skin of her back just before his lips pressed against the wound. The beat of her heart thundered in her ears and her knees were weak.

  Merciful heavens, he was kissing the wound.

  Suddenly, he stood in front of her. For the first time since she had removed her gown, she met his gaze and saw nothing but love in his eyes. He cradled her cheek and placed a kiss on her lips that was so full of tenderness it banished all her fears.

  Before she could throw herself into his arms, he drew away and sliding his hand under her breast, he rubbed his thumb over the puckered skin, and then kissed the jagged scar.

  “And this?”

  “His teeth.”

  His gaze jerked up to hers, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “His teeth?”

  She nodded. “There was a reason for that one. I hadn’t instructed the cook to have his favorite dinner awaiting him when he arrived home unexpectedly.”

  A harsh sounding word she had never heard passed his lips. She had never seen such rage in anyone’s eyes before and thought it was a good thing Leo was already dead.

  “Michael,” she whispered.

  “Myana.” He dropped to his knees and kissed each mark on her legs. She put her hands on his shoulders to keep from folding into a ball at his feet.

  “Michael,” she said softly. She waited for him to look up.

  “Je t’aime.”

  He stood up so quickly he knocked her backwards. Grabbing her around her waist, he pulled her against him. “Say it again. Say it in English.”

  “I love you.”

  ****

  Michael feared he might erupt into embarrassing giggles. Could a heart burst open from too much happiness? If it were possible, then this would be his last day on earth. His lips crashed down on hers and nothing else existed. Just her.

  It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, days maybe, he didn’t know and didn’t care, before he lifted his head and looked at her. “Now do you believe I don’t see your thorns?”

  “Liar,” she said, but the misery that surrounded her earlier had vanished.

  “Call me a liar one more time and I will put you over my knees and spank that delicious bottom of yours.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Interest sparkled in her eyes, belying her words.

  He put his mouth against her ear. “Do you have the mettle to find out?”

  Surprising him, she bit his earlobe. “Liar,” she whispered.

  He swooped her up and carried her to his bed. Sitting down, he flipped her over across his knees and lightly tapped her. She giggled. Hearing her laughter brought a smile to his face.

  She turned her head and peered at him with a teasing smile on her face. “Is that the best you can do, my lord?”

  “I’ll show you my best, my lady.” He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her on the bed. “Sorry, Peggy, but you are not invited to this party.”

  He picked the cat up and moved her to the chair by the fire. Practically tearing off his clothing, he joined Diana in bed. Capturing her lips, he kissed her, and when she opened her mouth, he tangled his tongue with hers, tasting her honey and spice.

  While he plundered her mouth, he stroked his hand over breasts, her belly, her bottom. Touching her was familiar, yet new. He had dreamed of having her naked in his bed for so long. Too bloody long. Never again would anyone take her away.

  Breaking away from her mouth, he trailed kisses down her neck on a path to his goal. Reaching her breasts, he sucked a nipple into his mouth and had the satisfaction of hearing her moan. He threw a leg over hers and pressed his erection against her thigh.

  “Michael, please.”

  “Patience, love. Have patience.” He moved over to her other breast and played with that nipple. Her skin was soft and warm under his exploring hand. He slipped a finger through her curls and into her wet sheath.

  The ache to cover her body with his and slide into all that slick heat was great, but he clamped down on his raging lust. This was for her. Sliding his finger in, then out and back in, he found her little nub with his thumb and rubbed it in tiny circles.

  More than anything, he wanted to put his mouth on her and taste her, but was unsure if she was ready for such intimacy. He looked forward to a lifetime of loving her in all the ways he wanted.

  “Oh God, Michael.” Her body went rigid and her inner muscles clenched on his finger.

  When her breath evened out again, he crawled over her and nestled his erection between her legs. Supporting himself on his elbows, his eyes devoured her heat-flushed cheeks, the beads of sweat above her lips and the eyes that had turned so dark he could easily drown in them.

  “Myana,” he murmured. He lowered his head and kissed her.

  Her hands grasped the back of his head, her legs wrapped around his thighs. “Michael, please. Please.”

  “I am my lady’s servant.” He reached his hand down and guided his aching shaft into her. She was tight and wet and hot. He hissed in pleasure when the tip of his cock pressed against her womb. This was where he belonged, this was his home and this was how it was meant to be between them.

  “Je t’aime, Myana,” he said softly. “Je t’aime.”

  ****

  Diana felt him slide into her and then it seemed as if he was going to leave her. She started to protest, but he came back and she sighed her pleasure. He lifted up on straight, rigid arms, and looked down at her. She met his gaze and they stared at each other. She smiled and touched his beloved face, feeling the bristle of a beard trying to grow back.

  He turned his head and kissed her palm and then began to move, filling her completely and possessively. When stars exploded in front of her eyes, she bit down against a scream from the overwhelming pleasure.

  A low, feral growl sounded from him. His seed exploded, hot and pouring into her. The air hissed out of his lungs. Please God, don’t let this be a dream.

  He fell onto her and she welcomed his weight as proof he was real. She wrapped her arms around his back and held on to him for dear life. His chest heaved against her breasts, his breath puffs of hot air on her neck.

  She pressed her cheek against the side of his head and thought about all that had happened tonight. She had been so sure once he saw her body he would turn away from her, and she realized now how unfair she had been to think him so shallow.

  “I am trying to find the energy to move myself off you.” Michael pushed himself up on his elbows. He grinned down at her. “You look like a thoroughly ravished woman, my love.” He gave her a quick kiss and then rolled over on his back. Reaching down, he took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

  She pulled the sheet over her breasts. He chuckled and pushed it back down. Though she had stood before him naked as the day she was born, she still wasn’t comfortable exposing herself.

  “Your days of hiding from me are over.” He let go of her hand and turned on his side, his gaze roaming over her body. “Why you should want to conceal something so beautiful, I cannot fathom.” As he spoke the words, he trailed a finger down her middle, from the valley of her breasts to the curls of her mound.

  Gooseflesh rose on her skin under his touch. In his eyes, she saw desire, and wanted to believe she was beautiful to him. But her disfigurements were ugly and she couldn’t make her mind think otherwise. Unable to help herself,
she rested her hand over the bite mark, hiding it.

  He pulled her hand away, lowered his head and kissed the scar. “You are my warrior queen and have the marks to prove it, each one a testament to your courage and bravery. Wear them with pride, Diana, else you give the blackguard his victory.”

  Because she wanted more than anything to triumph over Leo, she made up her mind to stop pitying herself and to wear her scars as the mark of a warrior. Even thinking the word as applied to her made her feel strong and victorious.

  Giddy with happiness, she pounced on him. “I am a warrior queen and you are my love slave.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A light dusting of snow covered the grounds at Draven Park. Michael stood at his bedroom window and watched the fat round flakes float gently to earth. A line of carriages waited below to take the wedding party to the church. Even from two floors up, he could see the white breath of the horses.

  “There is magic in the air today, Hansen.”

  “If you start seeing fairies, my lord, I am sending for the doctor.”

  Michael turned from the window. “Tell me I am not dreaming, and it is really going to happen this time.”

  “If you are, then we are having the same dream.” He walked over and pinched Michael.

  “Ouch. Why the devil did you do that?”

  Hansen held out his arm. “Now, you pinch me to make certain I’m not the one dreaming.”

  “Are you aware that hurting your master is grounds for dismissal?”

  “No, my lord, that is a new one.” He removed a sheet of paper from his coat and went to Michael’s desk.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Adding the new reason to my list. There are so many, the only way I can remember them is to write them down.” He held the paper up. “Ah, this one is my favorite. Do not tell his lordship you had to let out the waist of his trousers.”