The thought made her want to scream, to pummel her fists against his chest and release a cry of rage. He had taken advantage of her illness, knowing that she could not stop him. She had been so stupid to believe that he would help her.
Hot tears welled up in her eyes, for she ought to confront him. She should demand that Raine leave her here, though she knew he wouldn’t. Instead, he might take her away and give her over to the High King. Or perhaps to the Norman soldiers they had encountered a few hours ago. She was certain now that they were his men, and undoubtedly, they had followed him from the beginning.
Hurt balled up inside her that she had let herself believe he cared. When he had touched her, she had come undone, her emotions crumbling beneath his caress. Beneath his lies, she’d also sensed the traces of guilt and regret. Perhaps he did care about her, though he might not admit it. He could have insisted that they continue travelling; instead, he had stopped here in the afternoon.
Why? Was it because he worried for her health? Or was it because he was wavering in his decision? He had not yet given her into the hands of her enemies.
A grain of an idea took hold within her. Was it possible to change his mind? Aye, Raine was a soldier, a man bound to the king’s will who could not put his own desires first. But what if he decided not to go through with his plans? What if she could convince him to let her go?
Confusion clouded Carice’s thoughts, for she knew not what Raine thought of her. He had protected her, time and again...but was it only out of duty? Had he kissed her, wanting only to deceive her?
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Whatever time they had remaining was sliding through her fingers like droplets of water. She didn’t know if there was a way to turn him back from this course. Was it possible?
The door opened quietly, and she shielded herself, only to realise it was him. Raine had a tray of food in his hands, but he turned away immediately. After he set down the tray, he lowered the latch to bolt the door. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t realise you were—I mean, I should not have entered without knocking.’
‘It’s all right.’ But even so, she felt the blush all over her skin. Had he seen her naked body?
Did you want him to? The voice of her conscience was chiding, and she closed her eyes, stammering. ‘The—the healer thought if I bathed in these herbs, it might help.’
He kept his distance, standing on the far side of the room, his gaze averted. ‘And did it?’
‘Yes. It felt good to be warm.’ She studied him closely, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind. A hundred questions passed through her, but she kept silent. If she pretended that she didn’t know what was happening, he might reveal more of his intentions.
Raine’s shoulders were lowered, and he said, ‘I’ll leave the food here and return later. Shall I send for a maid to help you?’
‘Don’t go,’ she murmured. ‘Stay and talk with me a while.’
He kept his back turned. For a while, he remained silent, as if he knew not what to say. ‘What do you want from me, Carice?’
I want to know why you’ve brought me here. And if you intend to go through with this betrayal.
She bit her lip, wondering what answers he would give. ‘How much longer will we travel?’
‘A day and a half. Perhaps two at the most.’ He stood with his palm against the wall, and at least this was an honest answer.
‘I suppose you’ll be glad to be rid of me,’ she whispered. ‘After all the trouble I’ve given you.’
And because it will bring you into the High King’s favour.
But what purpose would that serve? He didn’t need King Rory’s favour—he needed the favour of his own ruler, King Henry. Was that why he had been sent? To deliver her into their hands as a show of good faith? The Normans and Irish had a deceptive peace, one that hovered on the brink of war.
‘No, I won’t be glad to leave you,’ he said. His voice was husky, and she didn’t know whether it was desire or regret she heard within the tone. Her foolish heart wanted to believe that there could be more.
‘Come here,’ she bade him. She wanted to look into his eyes, to read the thoughts he would not speak.
‘I must leave you alone to clothe yourself,’ he said. ‘But I will return.’
He started to go, but she called out to him, ‘Bring me the drying cloth first.’
Raine hesitated before he reached for the cloth. ‘I am trying to be honourable with you.’ There was a strain within his voice, of a man who was battling his own urges.
Good. She wanted him to be frustrated, to feel the crushing weight of guilt. But more than that, she wanted him to abandon that path, to walk with her in whatever days remained. To find the fragmented pieces of honour that would convince him that surrendering her would not bring his sisters back.
As he approached, he kept his gaze downcast. But she watched his tall form, she let her gaze settle upon his muscled body and the blond hair that gleamed against the fire. She had touched his warm skin, feeling the beating of his heart against her palm.
He held the drying cloth out to her, but there was a slight tremor in his hands, as if he were hovering on the brink of his control.
Carice was beginning to understand that she was in a position of advantage. And if she could coerce him into changing his mind, this she would do. She would never wed Rory Ó Connor, for she was done with obedience. The illness had stolen away the life she’d wanted to have, the children she’d wanted to bear.
And she would go down fighting before she would let Raine de Garenne hand her to an enemy.
‘Will you help me from the tub?’ she asked.
The drying cloth fell from his hand. ‘You don’t know what you are asking.’
He was wrong in that. She knew exactly what she was doing—using every possible means of changing his mind.
‘I may fall if I try to get out of this tub without your assistance.’ She kept her tone light, but he didn’t smile. He held the drying cloth, but when he stared at her, she felt a sudden wave of shyness.
She was asking him to come closer, this man who had lied to her and brought her closer to her enemies. He might have conspired with her father, for all she knew. And yet, when she looked into his green eyes, she saw a man haunted by the past. The lines of his face revealed untold suffering.
‘You ask too much of me. If I lift you from that tub, I’ll not be able to stop myself from touching you.’
She kept herself hidden within the water and regarded him. ‘Is that what you want?’
His green eyes burned into hers. ‘What I want and what is right are two different things.’
At that, she stood up from the tub, revealing herself to him. Water trickled down her naked body, down the slight curves of her breasts and her body that was too thin. Inwardly, she was trembling from fear. She was taking the greatest risk, hoping that he would somehow turn away from duty. ‘I understand.’
This was seduction, an offering she should not give. She knew that these were the actions of a woman of loose virtue. But there was far more beneath the surface of her offering. There was fear, a trace of shame, and worry that he would remain fixed upon his decision. Her heart was pounding, and at his silence, she wondered if she had made a mistake.
‘Look at me,’ she commanded, ‘and answer me with truth. In two days, will you be relieved that you will not see me again?’
He bent down and retrieved the drying cloth, his knuckles clenching against the linen. Slowly he lifted it around her shoulders, the cloth shielding her body.
He lifted her from the tub and brought her to stand before him. ‘You know not the man I am. Or the things I have done.’
Oh yes, she did know. But what she wanted to know was whether she could change his course. Carice reached up to take his face in her palms. ‘Is that
the man you want to be? Or would you forsake your duties to stay with me?’
He closed his eyes, and she saw the rigid tension within him. ‘Do you want these hands upon you? These hands that have slain countless men?’ He dropped his voice even lower. ‘Why do you offer yourself to me, when we both know I will leave?’
‘Because I believe that you don’t want to go.’
He captured her hands upon his face, and the expression in his eyes was of a man drowning in need. ‘I don’t deserve a woman like you. Not after what I’ve done.’
His words took on a deeper meaning, for she was well aware of it. ‘Then change it. Be a different man.’
He brushed his thumb over her lips, sliding his hand down the curve of her throat. ‘Would that it were possible.’
‘It is possible,’ she whispered. ‘Come away with me. Let me live out the rest of my days with you.’
‘I cannot. My sisters—’
‘Do you truly think the king will free them?’ she asked. ‘Or will he use them to manipulate you?’
‘Don’t—’ he shot back. ‘My life is not my own. My choices are not my own.’
‘Because you let them lead you by strings. You follow your commander’s will blindly.’ She reached down for his hands, knowing her words were cruel. ‘But how do you even know your sisters are still alive?’
He jerked his hands away. ‘I don’t.’
She let the drying cloth fall away and rested her arms around his throat. ‘Make your own choices, Raine. And live by them, whatever they are.’
His bare hands slid down her back to the curve of her bottom. ‘You’re asking me to make the wrong choice, Carice.’
She leaned in and rested her cheek against his armour. ‘No, Raine. I’m asking you to make the right one.’ She wanted him to turn away from his orders, to break the chains that bound him to duty.
‘Give me a memory,’ she answered. ‘When I am dying, I want to know that I lived every day to its fullest. And when I think of you, I will smile.’
‘I promise you, you won’t smile. I am not the man you want.’ His expression held the grim cast of a soldier who intended to betray her. He was tormented not only by the past, but by the choices ahead. There was no peace for him, and he was determined to push her away.
‘Your past matters not to me,’ she said quietly. ‘But am I wrong to think that you care about me?’
Chapter Eight
When Carice stepped back, revealing her body once again, Raine was gripped by the undeniable urge to drink in the sight of her. He was held spellbound by her bare skin and the erect rose nipples that tightened in the cool air. His body grew rock hard at the sight of her, needing to touch the body she offered.
But God help him, she would despise him for doing this. The moment she realised that he planned to give her into the hands of her enemy, she would look upon him with hatred.
And yet, he was utterly lost. She held him beneath her spell, and when she took his hands, he touched that beautiful skin.
‘No,’ he breathed. He did care, a great deal. ‘You weren’t wrong. But I have no right to be with a woman like you.’ He wanted her more than his next breath. Craved her until there were no words. He drew his hands down her silken skin, down to the base of her spine and over the curve of her hip.
‘I don’t care.’ She took his hand and held it for a moment, her blue eyes holding him captive. ‘Be with me now. Show me what you feel.’
His body was burning with need, and he hungered to give her pleasure. Yet this woman, who had suffered so much, should not lose her innocence to a man like him.
‘I will never marry,’ she said. ‘I will never bear a child within this body. But before you leave me, I want to know what it would be like to have a lover.’
‘Why?’ His voice came out rough, revealing the caged frustration. ‘Why would you offer yourself to a man like me?’
‘Because you fought for me, protected me. Because I see the way you are looking at me now, as if you want to love me.’
Dieu, how he wanted that. What he wouldn’t give to live the life of a normal man, to stay with this woman who raced along the ice and kissed him as if she needed him more than air.
Carice lifted her face to his. ‘Or am I wrong?’
With that, he was lost. With his mouth, he followed a trickle of water, as it outlined the curve of her breast. He tasted the wet skin, running his tongue to her nipple. And when he suckled her, her hands dug into his hair, holding him close. He ran his tongue over the hard nub, unable to stop himself from worshipping her. Then he kissed a path to the other breast, running his tongue along the curves until he captured the second nipple. He rolled the other with his thumb and forefinger, loving the taste of her.
‘You aren’t wrong, Carice.’ He moved back, reaching for the fallen length of soft linen. Her hair had come loose from its knot and the dark waves spilled over her shoulders and down to her hips. ‘I could spend hours touching you.’
‘Then make me forget all else,’ she whispered. ‘Let me imagine that you love me enough to stay.’
Her words undid him, making him wish to God he could ignore his orders and take her away. But he knew better than to envision what could never be.
‘Hold out your arms,’ he ordered. He took the length of linen and drew it over her, gently drying her back. He used the cloth to caress her body, over her breasts and belly,
He knelt before her, drying her bottom and the back of her legs. Then down to her feet, where he moved the cloth over her calves and up her inner thighs. She was trembling from his touch, but he didn’t care. He wanted her as aroused as he was.
As he continued to move the cloth over her skin, he realised that he could pleasure her without taking her virginity. The thought made his loins tighten, and he realised that this was the most honourable means of touching her.
There was a chair near the fire, and he guided her there, seating her in a wordless command. The fire warmed her naked skin, giving it a golden cast. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders, and he moved it away from her bare breasts, needing to see them. ‘Open your legs for me,’ he demanded.
Her blue eyes widened, and he didn’t miss the fear in them. But although she hesitated, she parted her legs. He held her ankles in both hands, lowering his mouth to her calves. He kissed the delicate skin, moving up to her inner thighs. When she arched her back, he imprisoned her legs, not allowing her to pull away. Goose flesh prickled over her body, and he moved his attention to her other leg, kissing and licking the sensitive hidden places.
When he reached her intimate curls, with his mouth he breathed against her. A soft cry released from her lips. ‘Raine, I don’t know if you should—’
He cut off her words by kissing her opening, tasting the salt of her arousal. She tried to pull back, but he reached beneath her bottom and brought her legs to rest on his shoulders.
He was aching for her. The torment was rising higher, and he deserved all of the discomfort and more. But he was determined to pleasure her, to teach her how he could make her come apart. With his tongue, he worked the nodule of her flesh, suckling her and making her tremble.
But it wasn’t enough. Carice was fighting against the feelings, refusing to let go. And so, he slowed down, pulling back. She was glistening wet, and this time, he kissed her nipple again, while he slid a finger inside her. She groaned at the sensation, and he caressed her from within while he used his thumb against her hooded flesh.
‘Raine, I don’t—oh, please,’ she begged. She was nearly frantic for the release he could give her, and right now, all he wanted to do was fill her with his body, thrusting with his own needs.
He softened his touch, coaxing her towards the edge. Her body was trembling, and she met his gaze with her eyes. In them, he saw the yearning, and she whispered, ‘Don�
��t go back to the Normans. Promise me.’
He couldn’t speak the words, for he was bound by duty. There was no answer he could give, so instead, he suckled hard against her nipple and she let out a shuddering breath, shattering as her body gave in to the overwhelming wave of release.
He revelled in her pleasure, holding her as she gripped his shoulders. Then, when she gathered her senses from the storm, she touched his face. ‘Kiss me.’ He did, and was dimly aware of her hands moving over his clothing, loosening the laces. ‘Take off your armour and tunic.’
He paused a moment, but she said, ‘I want to feel my bare skin against yours. Don’t deny me that.’
He was so lost, he couldn’t have refused her if he’d wanted to. When the barriers between them were gone, he groaned as she pressed her breasts against him. Mon Dieu, she felt so good. He could spend all night loving her and never regret a moment of it.
Carice took his hand and led him towards the bed. He didn’t protest, but she helped him remove his boots. Then her hands paused at his waist in a silent question.
‘Will you let me touch you?’ she asked. ‘Please?’
He knew that she wanted more than he could give. But if he merely allowed her to touch him and caress him, there was no harm in it. So long as she held the power and he surrendered to her will, he could let go of the voices in his head.
She will hate you when she learns the truth.
If he dared to claim what he wanted most, oui, she would. But if he left her untouched, he could live with his decision.
And so he nodded, letting her do as she would.
* * *
Carice’s heart was pounding as she touched her hands to Raine’s chest. He stole her breath with a magnificent body she wanted to admire. His muscles were tight, like a figure carved of marble. And though she hadn’t missed the troubled expression in his eyes, she wanted this night with him.
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