by Sandra Lake
“You need to get out of those wet clothes.” Lothair knelt before her and unfastened her cloak pin. He unwrapped her from the damp garment and handed it off to a passing servant with a smile of thanks. An army of servants continued to move in and out of the chamber, carrying hot water, clothing, and trays of wine and food.
Lothair poured Katia a generous portion of wine. “Drink it quickly. The strong drink will help warm you from the inside.” He was correct, and within a few minutes of sitting by the fire, Katia was able to blink past her daze.
“Your chamber is lovely, Lothair,” she said in a nervous tone she barely recognized. She had never felt more inferior to him than in this moment.
“I am glad you approve.” The last servant had left, and he walked across the rich burgundy rug and slid a large iron bolt across the top of the door. As always, the effortless manner in which he carried himself dazzled her, his broad frame moving with such confident grace.
“Would you like to bathe alone?” he asked, nodding over toward the shiny copper tub that had been brought in by servants and filled with steaming water.
“I don’t . . . I’m not . . .” She tried to breathe. Memories of his soapy backside flashed through her head and she could feel heat rising to her cheeks.
“Katia Magnusdotter at a loss for words?”
He chuckled slightly and walked over to her, pushed her hair off out of the way, and untied the lace to her damp wool traveling gown, then raised her to her feet before him and pulled off her shoes. She was enthralled, mesmerized by the sight of him undressing her.
Without a word or hesitation, he removed all of her garments with care and skill, piece by soggy piece. Her heart beat with increasing speed as the layers were stripped away. She commanded herself not to shy away. She wanted Lothair to see her as a woman, not simply his burdensome charge. She wanted him to desire her. That was what she read in his eyes, was it not? Desire? He wanted her. Though she was nervous of what was to come next, she was not afraid.
Lothair’s eyes had stayed focused on his task, until he pulled the final small lace at the collar of her shift and their eyes locked to one another. He pushed the thin fabric off her shoulder, and his eyes slowly traveling down as the garment lowered to her hips. His hands stilled for a brief moment as he studied her body. Her breasts were cold, the tips sticking out in hard points.
Did he like what he found, Katia wondered? She stood shivering in her stockings, and he answered her unspoken plea by sweeping her up again into his arms, engulfing her with his warmth.
He carried her high against his chest, crossing the chamber in just a few strides and placing her down on the large canopied bed. Her weight sank into the feather mattress and he took a step back. He didn’t smile or look her in the eye, but just stared soberly at her nakedness. He had seen her breasts before. Perhaps his familiarity with her body rendered her unappealing?
Slowly, with great intensity, Lothair slid down the last of her shift, exposing her entirely. His eyes took her in as if he were inspecting a serious matter of business. He removed her stockings, one by one. It felt glorious to be touched by him this way.
Naked and exposed before his gaze, she felt no shame, no fear. This was Lothair. Whatever he wanted or didn’t want from her, she would grant him. Lying naked beneath his hands felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Although he was still annoyingly fully clothed, Lothair bent over her, hovering an achingly short distance from her lips. He breathed her in and slowly lowered his mouth to hers for a soft kiss. After a few moments, he stood back up and picked up her right foot, raised it to his mouth, and kissed her toes. He rubbed heat back into her cold toes, kissing each one several times. She could not blink or look away—she was mesmerized by the confident, purposeful intent of Lothair’s motions.
He kissed and caressed every inch of her skin as he moved up her body. He kissed a bruise on her shin, and then her knees, and finally placed several long kisses on her thighs. When he placed a kiss on the short curls that covered her womanhood, she sucked in a startled breath. But he didn’t linger, moving on to her belly and then to her chest, where he stopped and lingered for what felt like hours. By the time he moved higher, she was light-headed and blissfully warm.
His lips traveled higher, to her neck, her throat, her ear, and then stopped and hovered over her mouth. Finally he pressed his lips to hers, and as he deepened the kiss, she opened, releasing all tension, welcoming him to take what he pleased. Their tongues met and she moaned as his hand began to caress and explore once again. His fingers pressed in gently as he stroked her, swirling small circles with the perfect amount of pressure, and the sensation sent her twisting, quivering, and arching for more.
She wanted desperately to touch him, but the fear of failure to please won out. She closed her eyes as he dominated her mouth, taught her things she had not known existed in the world.
It felt like they had been kissing for hours, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. His lips left her and she instantly felt deprived. She opened her eyes to see Lothair’s bare chest hovering over her. When had that happened? He shifted above her, using his thigh to spread her legs wide and lowering himself between them.
“Hold on to my shoulders, Kat. Just breathe for me, sweetling.”
A moment later, Lothair joined their bodies as one.
She hissed in a sharp breath with the stinging pain, burying her face into the crook of his neck as Lothair rocked slowly into her.
“Lothair.” She gasped as another, new sensation took her over. A sensation that she remembered from the night he touched her.
“Surrender to me, Kat,” his husky voice whispered in her ear. “Do not fight it. Let your body take me in.” She was consumed by the feeling of pleasure mixing with a dull throbbing pain. She fought for breath, filling her lungs with the raw, male scent of Lothair’s damp skin.
“Lothair!” She cried, her nails digging into his backside.
Lothair slowed his movements, holding himself deep inside her. He reclaimed her lips, lightly biting and sucking, whispering quiet words to her that she could not quite understand.
“You are mine.” Was that what she had heard? Or perhaps it was what she wanted to believe she heard?
***
Lothair held himself motionless, reluctant to remove himself from her body until she asked him to. He would stay connected to her for the remainder of the night and into the next if possible. All of his ambition for life had ceased to exist in this moment; now his only goal was to repeat this act every day and every night.
He raised his head, gazing into his wife’s beautiful, half-hooded eyes. He kissed her swollen lips. He couldn’t help a smile of pride.
“Come, I’ll scrub your back.” He smiled at her dazed expression and slowly shifted his hip to withdraw from her.
She locked her leg around his calf muscle. “Must we bathe so soon? May we not just have another few moments?”
He chuckled. “We need not move ever again, wife, if that is your desire.”
“Wife? We are alone now, Lothair. You need not pretend.”
“Aye, Katia, wife. That is the title given to a woman who vowed before God and signed a contract of marriage. You are wed and now most properly bedded, Baroness Blienskastel of Hanseatz.”
“That is certainly a mouthful, is it not?” She giggled.
“Indeed it is.” He kissed her and eased back. If he didn’t remove himself from her quickly, he was bound to take her again, and her inexperienced body was surely too tender for that.
***
After they bathed, they ate fresh poppy seed bread, with Isa’s famous summer preserves spread generously across the top. Katia announced she would never eat another meal without the sweet jam. Lothair sat on the bear rug in front of the fire, Katia between his legs, leaning her back into his chest, wrapped in his arms. They spoke q
uietly of nothing important, totally at ease. Her hair dried slowly, lightening to a shade of honey gold.
Her voice became a little scratchy, but she didn’t seem to have any desire to surrender to sleep, much like him. Sleep would mean letting go of this moment. As long as they never slept, then this strange, overpowering feeling was real.
Lothair held his baroness a little tighter.
Chapter 19
In the still hours of early morning, a bone-chilling wind rattled the closed shutters of Lothair’s chamber. Katia scampered across the stone floor, which was covered by the softest woven rugs she had ever felt below her bare feet, and peeled back the flapping window covering.
An angry winter storm had come to the North Sea. Her heart sank. The world was painted in white, and a million featherlight flecks of snow danced on the wind. Just past the castle grounds, she could see the wide channel that connected to the open water of the sea, which was filled with combative white caps. Tronscar was only a few short days away, across the violent-looking sea. Her anxious feet wanted to go, this very second, but another part of her simply wanted to go back to bed.
Hanseatz Castle was perched on top of a high embankment, and from this height she could see several large cargo ships tied to a dock and several more moored a short distance offshore.
She turned to look back at the closed curtains of the canopy bed and skipped quickly across the chamber to return to the warmth of Lothair’s side.
Last night felt like a dream. Lothair’s body had joined with hers and the result had not been what she’d expected. If all couples experienced what they did, how was anything to get done in a day? All she craved to do was be held by Lothair, his hands caressing her with both tenderness and urgency. The secrets of his lips, his tongue, his scent, his very breath had taken her to a new level of understanding.
She nuzzled in closer to his muscular arm and he stirred in his sleep, shifting to his side. Like a well-rehearsed dance, he pushed his arm under her head and pulled her in close. This past day and night would always be remembered as the greatest time of her life, she told herself.
Soon, much too soon, this magic would end. She could never let him sacrifice his future happiness for her personal enjoyment, no matter how honorable he professed to be. She would fix the mess she had made and make sure he was able to go about his life undisturbed.
She wasn’t fooled by his excuse that they had wed to protect his name. She knew he wed her to protect her honor and reputation. She loved him too much ever to let him remain locked in matrimony . . . at least not forever.
Katia had no care for her reputation or name. More than ever she had resolved to focus on helping her brother Urho. If she was too late to save him, she would return to Turku and continue a life of quiet contemplation. Then, after the foreign forces were pushed out of Finland by the Norrland army, she could farm and help the quiet, humble people of Turku.
She would keep Lothair’s warm and tender embrace in her mind forevermore, a gift she could call to mind on cold, sleepless nights.
At some point, while lost in her unpleasant musings, Katia fell back to sleep. She awoke again to Lothair kissing her neck. She moaned. His large, callused hand was caressing her bare breast when he froze.
“Are you . . . too tender?” He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he worked to slow his breathing.
“Not overly. Please, Lothair, make me feel like you did last night?”
***
Lothair couldn’t think of anything but worshipping her flawless form. He started kissing at his favorite place behind her ear, quickly moving down to the hollow of her neck and then farther down, finding yet another favorite spot to taste. He would have to spend more time at this spot later, he told himself. At the moment, he needed to be inside her, to reassure himself that she belonged to him.
Wetness coated his fingertips. She was more than ready for him so he plunged into her depths. They were both breathless, panting, arching toward the peak of their pleasure that swiftly took them both. Collapsing in blissful agony, he lay in a tangled mess of sweaty legs and arms.
Eventually, he sank into a deep sleep, waking a short time later to the feeling of her lips on his chest. He was erect again and, a moment later, moving inside her. They spent the remainder of the morning in a repetitive pattern of sleep and lovemaking.
At some point, Lothair’s steward relayed a message from Rikard that the weather was too poor for them to make the journey across the North Sea to Tronscar safely that day. That was fine with him—he never wanted to leave this bed. He may have never allowed her to rise from their cozy nest if not for the echoing rumbles of her empty belly. He first attempted to kiss it and tell it to hush, as he lazily stroked the soft skin on of the inside of his wife’s thigh, but it did not obey.
After eating a light meal, he reluctantly dressed, both helping and hindering Katia’s progress to do the same. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to take his hands off her again. Katia giggled, slapping his hands away and telling him that she was becoming a little tender, so they might as well go visit with their friends. She seemed keen on spending time with Tosha, and Lothair could not refuse her—it was possible he might not be able to refuse her anything ever again.
***
Katia sat side by side with Tosha at the head table in Lars’s castle. It was hard for her to get her head around the fact that both of them were now wives. Eight months ago, when they had started their adventure in Turku, she could have never imagined this outcome.
Tosha beamed as she described to Katia how the servants did every little thing for her, before she even asked them to. Katia smiled with wholehearted joy. No one deserved to be happy more than her friend. Lars was the luckiest of men to have Tosha as his wife, and Katia was determined never to let him forget it.
Katia lifted up Tosha’s hand and kissed it. “I will miss you so much.” Tears threatened to spill. “I will be certain to travel back with your mother in the spring. She will be overjoyed to see you so happy and well placed.” Katia smiled through her falling tears. “Apologies, I must have had too much wine.” She swept them away, embarrassed to have lost control of her emotions.
“Kat,” Tosh said soothingly. “You never cry. What’s this all about?”
“Nothing, nothing. I’m just so very happy for you—I’ll miss spending every day with you.” The two friends embraced with a fierce passion.
“You may still see each other near to every day, my dear Katia.” Lars interrupted the emotional exchange. “Fear not. Lothair and I hunt and train together daily. I see no reason why the tradition cannot continue as before. Had I known wedding a friendly pair of silly maids was so agreeable, Lothair and I would have gone on our quest for wives long before now.”
“Quest for wives?” Katia turned to Lothair and laughed.
“Never mind him.” Lothair put his arm around her. “He is deep into his cups, I’m afraid.”
Tosha smiled at seeing Lothair’s arm drape so naturally around Katia. “Kat, we will need a little time away from the men for a few hours a week, at least. Though this winter spent apart will feel mighty long without my friend.”
“Winter apart?” Lars said. “After a first few weeks of rutting out his energy, I’m sure Lothair will give her back to you.” He snorted. Indeed, Lars was enjoying his wine a little too much this evening.
Tosha rolled her eyes and patted Lars’s hand. “Beloved, you are mistaken. Katia and Lothair depart for the north on the morning.”
“Impossible,” Lars slurred. “The Medelpad fjord is fully iced in. You will not be getting close to Tronscar until after it thaws. You might as well drink up, my dear baroness.” Lars returned to his wine.
Katia reached for the pitcher of water while considering this new information. She had better have a clear head while speaking with Rikard later on—he was sure to be working on an alte
rnative route.
“I was meaning to speak with you when we got home,” Lothair said. “We have confirmed reports of early ice buildup in the fjord just south of Tronscar. The northern golf will be full of ice flows by now. We shall be one of the first ships to sail in the spring.”
“What! You can’t be serious.” She jerked away from his touch. “If you are trying my temper as a jest to taunt me, it’s not funny, Lothair.”
“I don’t speak to rile you, Kat. I will not risk you in a winter crossing. Your family will understand that your safety is what’s important. Your reports got to the proper hands. You did what you could. Next spring, if the sea’s safe enough, we’ll travel directly to Tronscar.”
“If?” she said in a loud hiss.
“Lower your voice,” he said, grabbing her hand.
“We should have gone straight for the ports as Rikard suggested. We could have gotten ahead of the storm,” she said.
Lothair ignored her flared nostrils and returned his attention to his meal. “Katia, have some more of the venison. The red meat is good for your blood. You’re still too pale.” Lothair loaded her platter with more food, but Katia stood up and pushed her chair out behind her, stomping directly for the hall’s exit.
“Where do you think you are going?” Lothair grabbed her good arm and spun her back around.
“To find Rikard,” she stated flatly, and jerked her arm free.
“Not a chance in hell. Now, get back to your seat and finish your meal.” He sounded like he was scolding a child.
“I’m returning to Tronscar, Lothair, and you can’t stop me.”
“The hell I can’t! You’re my wife and you’ll do as you’re told.”
“Devil take you, Lothair. You knew all along that I would not stop until I got home.”
“You are home. Hanseatz is your home.”
