by Beth Mikell
His shaft hardened in response. He was undone and he had not even started his seduction yet.
*.*.*.*
Adara shuddered under the predatory gleam in his light brown eyes, a warning to her that he was definitely up for sensual intrigue. The rules were unknown to her. She was not worldly or experienced to handle a man of his obvious sexual knowledge. He excited her while he intimidated her.
“Our conversation is over, Rowan, excuse me,” she said, taking a step back, intending to leave.
He grasped her arm, stilling her retreat. “I do not think so, kitten. I am just getting started,” he said, his voice silky with just a hint of darkness. He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms.
Her hands came up to push against him, yet her fingers curled into the softness of his tunic. His body heat was a wonderful kind of greeting. Her palms ached, wanting to smooth her hands up his chest and test his strength. “You cannot mark me as your territory, Rowan. I am not like other women,” she hissed.
He flashed a lopsided grin, his dimples showing. “Aye, ‘tis what enchants me, lass. Since the day I saw you at the tournament, there has been no other woman, kitten. Why is that?”
Adara raised an eyebrow. “Liar,” she rasped. “This is your way of manipulating me.” His hot breath fanned her cheeks, submerging her in flames. His warmth licked through her blood like delicious foam. She wanted him. Aye, whom was she kidding? A kiss maybe? But fear kept her stiff and resistant. She was unwilling to admit how easy it would be for her to fall under his spell.
“There is only one way to find out, is there not?” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, and his hand entwined through her hair, anchoring her.
Rowan’s head swooped down, his hot mouth sealing over her lips. She whimpered. His tongue licked over hers—so rich—infusing every lap with a savory promise. His mouth moved with desperation, his taste torturing her. Oh dear, God! He tasted wonderful and she wanted more. His hands, still wrapped within her hair, grasped her head, deepening the kiss. He pulled her closer to the fire. Closer to the burn.
Her resistance fled. She was lost within a windstorm of surprise and unexpected pleasure. Adara’s mind screamed ‘flee,’ but she clung to him, twisting her fingers in his tunic, pulling him closer. He rammed through her defenses, marking more than his territory—but branding his essence upon her soul. The more her mind shouted to run away, the more she pulled him closer, submerging herself deeper.
Rational thought was forgotten.
At that moment, neither one of them cared what happened beyond her sweetness and his taste. Heat spun them into a power struggle of need, want, and desperation. He yanked the deepest passion out of her control.
Rowan’s lips trailed over her jaw and down her throat. “You are blessed freedom, lass. You have released my inner man lost within years of meaningless women. I want you more than a day or night, sweet Adara,” he whispered against her skin, tonguing each beat of her pulse.
She stiffened in his embrace as a wash of cold reality soaked her mind with clarity. She was ashamed of her response to him. Had she lost herself so easily with one kiss? Aye, he was some kind of magician with warm kisses and slippery words, but she just… could not.
She pulled roughly out of his arms, her eyes alive with passion and anger. She took another step back. “Stop! This is wrong. You are man of charm and seduction. You have lured countless women to your bed, ravishing them with sweet words—only to leave them in a wake of forgetfulness. You cannot do the same to me, Rowan,” she said vehemently, reaching up to wipe her mouth harshly and she turned to run.
Rowan spun her around. “Damn it, Adara! Why can’t you see what I see? All day you sit in yer high tower the proper lady of the keep, surrounded by treachery and responsibility, yet cut off from the most human responses to life. Even from yerself! Blast it all, lass! Can’t you see me beyond a nuisance in yer life? Can’t you see that I want more from you than a tumble in bed?”
She shook her head, tears swimming in her eyes. “I am just a sensual venture for you. You have no idea what it is to have a real relationship. I will be nothing more than a pleasurable pastime.”
He cursed under his breath, his expression hardening. “Is that what you think, my lady?” He snorted, shaking his head. “No wonder your heart is capped in ice and yer words just as cold. You give a fine example of a proper lady, but in truth, you do not know how to even be human. You would not know a real man if he came up and bit you on the arse!”
Shocked by his words, her lips trembled and a tear rolled down her cheek. Her hand found his face, his head snapping sideways from the force. “How dare you!” she raged.
He sobered, remorse settling over his expression. “Adara—” he began gently, reaching for her.
She cut him off. “No! Do not apologize for your articulate words, Rowan. Perhaps you are correct, but that does not give you the right to judge me,” she heaved. “I do not have to justify myself to you.” She drew an unsteady breath, releasing it slowly. “The mask I wear for the sake of my responsibilities is more than who I am. There are times I hate being the lady of the keep and dealing with all this,” she said, raising her hands up in the air. “But there is no one else and I cannot walk away and be, as you said, normal. I must deal with more simplistic matters for the sake of survival. If I fall short of your expectations, forgive me. I really do not have the luxury of being more than what you see.” She turned to walk away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
*.*.*.*
Rowan took a step toward her, but he stopped. With a heavy heart, he watched her leave. “What have I done?” he whispered.
Chapter 10
By mid-morning, Lady Adara was nowhere to be found.
Rowan’s rising anger was ready to unleash with lightening force. He had been all over the keep—twice—but no sign of the Lady of HieLach. He questioned everyone he met, but no one had seen her. She was not in her bedchamber, herbal, or with her people she usually visited. Isidore, her warhorse, was still in the stable. He had checked.
He was a pathetic leech, he knew. What he had said to her the night before had been low. In the space of a few words, he had insulted her by calling her cold, heartless, and inhuman. He really mishandled the conversation. The one woman in the world he did not want to offend, he had. He wanted to apologize, but he could not find her, and fear settled into his heart. He was not sure if he was overreacting, or if foul play had captured her.
Striding into the great hall, he found Cylah sitting in a chair with her booted feet crisscrossed and propped up on the table. She ate an apple skewered off the end of her dagger, not bothering to look up at him as he entered—ignoring him as usual.
He walked over to the hostile woman, not the least bit affected by her rudeness. “Do you know where I may find Lady Adara?”
Cylah flicked her eyes up to meet his, shrugging. “Probably in her herbal,” she said nonchalantly, biting into her apple.
Anger hit his gut, consuming him. “She is not there,” he hissed, placing his hands on the table, he leaned forward. He did not bother masking his annoyance. “Where else would she go? No one has seen her and I mean no one.”
Cylah lifted a brow and took her booted feet off the table. “Have you checked the people she visits?”
He only gave a curt nod.
“When you say everywhere—” she began.
“I-mean-everywhere,” he stressed between clenched teeth.
Cylah surged to her feet, the blood draining from her face. Her agitation was evident as she threw down her skewered apple. “She wouldn’t! God, I bet my arse she went to Iron Mountain! Damn it!” She looked away, shaking her head. “And I bet she went alone, too,” she exclaimed, meeting Rowan’s gaze. Real concern marked her face.
Panic filled him at the thought of Adara leaving alone; especially because he knew she had been angry with him last night. With the Gray Legion out there, God only knew what could happen to her if they captured her.
The female knight huffed with impatience. “A second herbal. She grows special plants in a cave. ‘Tis a sacred place to Lady Adara. I have never even been inside, but she has been known to go there to escape from time to time,” she explained.
Escaping him. Adara was spitfire mad and took off under the threat of Gray Legion intrigue and danger. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
She eyed him, as if trying to decide if she really wanted to help. “Why don’t we go together?” she suggested.
Rowan smiled, but he was far from amused. “The information is all I require. So, where is it?”
Cylah finally relented and told him the exact location, though he had never been to Iron Mountain personally, he was aware of the many connecting caves within. The female knight’s directions were precise, especially when she said the cave was a straight walk out the bolthole exit, one league past a small pond. Cylah insisted to come, but he absolutely refused. The things he was going to say to Adara did not require a witness, especially not a loyal knight of Adara’s that could react strongly when the mistress of the keep needed a lesson in politeness and regard for her own life.
He went to ready himself and Simon found him, pausing in the doorway. “Headed out, Rowan?”
Glancing up at the younger knight, he nodded. “Aye. It seems Lady Adara may have left the keep for the Iron Mountain without telling anyone. I am going to check,” he explained, securing his mantle around his shoulders.
Simon scratched his head, rubbing his neck. “Shouldn’t Angus and I go with you?”
“No,” he said, pressing his lips together. The last thing he needed was an audience. “If the Gray Legion knights are watching the keep, they will notice a bunch of horses leaving and take advantage. I am exiting through the bolthole—the same way Lady Adara left. I need you and Angus to stay here, and guard the keep, no matter what. Understand?” He picked up his broadsword, sheathing it before looking back to Simon, awaiting his reply. He was impatient to leave.
“What if you need help?” Simon insisted.
Rowan smirked. “Then I will light a fire to signal you. How is that?” he said sarcastically. “What do you think is going to happen? I will be careful. The bolthole is designed to be in a location of secrecy. If the Gray Legion knew its location, I am sure they would have exploited it by now. I will return as soon as possible,” he said with huff, his steps heavy on the ground as he left.
*.*.*.*
As Rowan suspected, the bolthole was completely hidden and he wondered how he would find it again with so much brush, trees, and rocks cleverly disguising the exit. He made his way into the woods and trekked toward Iron Mountain, passing a small pond as he went.
To make up some time he ran, leaping over fallen trees or rocks, eating up the distance as quickly as possible. His eyes were never still, searching for any sign of the enemy or Adara’s presence, but so far, he was alone.
At the foot of the mountain, there were several visible caves and he checked each of them, but no sign of her. He did not veer too far from his position. Scanning the rock formation, he saw a slight groove, perhaps large enough for a person to enter, though not a noticeable cave entrance by any means. He had to pull his sword out to slide through the opening.
He came face to face with the end of a sword.
“Adara?”
“Damn Cylah!” she cursed, her voice fading away in the distance as she retreated.
Rowan stepped inside, his eyes taking several moments to adjust to the darkness of the cave, but it was pitch black. He moved deeper in, discovering a large dark cloth hanging over the entrance. Pulling it back, he went inside. He sheathed his sword, entering a well-lit cave. He stopped in surprise. It was more like a rustic home rather than a dank cave.
On the far back left, a large bed had been carved into the cave wall with plush coverlets and pillows. In the center, a bubbling hot spring rippled with medium length rock hanging over in a natural, spikey canopy, which dripped water into the pool. To his near right, a space for cooking had been built in, complete with fireplace, though no fire would have withstood the warmth provided by the hot spring for the air was definitely heated.
“Damn my eyes,” he said in wonder.
He strode midway into the cave and stopped. He found her down a small side cave, bent over the ground harvesting herbs. He walked toward her with angry purpose, but she did not look up at his approach.
“Why did you leave, Adara? Especially without telling anyone?” he asked coolly.
She sniffed rudely. “I was not exactly in the mood to discuss my travel plans with you.”
He stopped inches from her, but did not move to touch her. “‘Tis obvious, my lady, but you could have at least informed Cylah, or brought her with you. In case you have forgotten, there are dangerous men around HieLach that would love to do you harm,” he replied, ignoring her rudeness.
She shrugged without looking up. “I never bring anyone here. They would be bored in one minute—especially Cylah. Besides, I have herbs to gather before they waste.”
He clenched his jaw tight. “And it never occurred to tell someone? You really are a selfish princess, are you not?” He did not bother to keep the sarcasm out of his voice,
She flung the knife down and flipped him a scathing glare. “Did you just come here to continue with more insults? If so, you can see your way out.”
He grunted. “My lady, you are fabulous at crying out for injustice, but when it comes to your own safety, yer moral regard takes a pit dive out right off the side of this mountain. I cannot decide what upsets me more—yer blatant lack of consideration for yerself or yer people.”
She sprung up to her feet and flung her braid behind her back, her black-brown eyes glittering. “Call it what you will, but I have given more of myself to my people than you will ever know!” She pointed a finger in his direction. “I will return at nightfall. Now, do us both a favor and leave,” she said succinctly, turning away from him, but before she could sink down to her knees to resume her work, he spun her around.
His eyes flashed cold, but he was burning inside—a vibrating volcano ready to explode. “I am tired of this, Adara. One minute you dance around me, the next a spitfire. Tell me what to do to make up for last night and I will! I am sorry for being so insulting, but do not dismiss me like a queen and her lowly serf. I am beyond tolerating it anymore.” He drank in the beauty of her flushed face, though he could not decide if he wanted to throttle her or kiss her for her ill-mannered attitude and sarcastic replies.
Her eyes glowed fierce with her temper, her face flushed. She was stunning.
“Let me go!” She pulled against his solid grip.
With a curse, he pulled her into his arms, staring deep into her haunting black eyes that defied nature with their rich, inky depths, obsessing him even as they lured him. “No. The games are over, my lady. There is more to me than what you perceive. Be honest and tell me why you are so scared?” he rasped in a low tone. “Am I that disgusting to you?”
*.*.*.*
Fury filled Adara and she pushed against him. “God’s teeth!” she fumed and hit him again. “Nay!” She hit him again. “No, no, no!” She hit him three more times until he backed her up against the cave wall in a rush and still, Rowan did not protest her beating fists.
Tears filled her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. God, she wanted to escape him and his virile magnetism. “You will just break my heart and leave,” she whispered. “Everyone leaves. I cannot give in to what my heart may or may not desire—no matter how tempted I may be,” she cried harder, anger pushing her over the edge of sanity.
He shook his head, and his expression softened. He leaned closer. “‘Tis that what you think of me? I have all but sacrificed my heart to you. I am ready to step up further, and be a worthy man for the righteousness of one woman and you cannot even s
ee it. ‘Tis not a game for me, Adara. I have not been with a woman since the day I saw you at the tournament.” He kept going, even as she gave him an incredulous look. “You have me so tied up knots, lass, I don’t know my head from my arse,” he bit out, grasping both her shoulders and shaking slightly her for emphasis.
Her mouth gaped open, but she still could not believe him. She resisted his words, though a part of her softened, a little. “‘Tis not true—”
Both his hands cupped Adara’s face, holding her captive. “It is very true, my lady,” he said, his deep voice strained and gruff. “No matter what you have heard about me, perhaps true, I am undone by you. From the time I saw you, my sweet kitten, no other woman has dragged my heart so soundly through the mud and left me wanting more. God’s teeth, I speak the truth.”
She trembled in his arms, her unshed tears falling as she shook with understanding of what his words implied. God, how she wanted to trust in his claims, but she resisted. “You say that now, but what happens when your mission is over and...” Adara could not finish her sentence, drowning in hope, yet uncertain at the same time.
His lips lifted in a purely sexual smile. His hands slipped down, clasping her around the neck. “You have not been listening,” he said, his thumbs stroking her pulse.
She attempted to smile, but failed miserably. “Perhaps you need to say it plainly,” she said with a frown, reaching up to wipe her tears away. “You have to forgive me, but from everything I know and what I have experienced, life is not guaranteed. People are born, suffer, and then they die. Not much has given me hope for anything more, especially since I have been gifted a monstrous keep as my inheritance.”
“Trust me, lass. When this is over, I want to stay at HieLach and take forever’s journey with you. I have never wanted that more than I do right now. I want this moment… with you.”
Warm tingles settled over her body, his unfulfilled promise gave her hope. “You may become weary. It is not an easy road…” she whispered, spurning his claim, yet she desperately wanted to trust him.
