This was what she wanted. Adam’s hands on her, his lips touching her intimately. Naught in her past had prepared her for this, but she knew in her heart that it was right. It was meant to be.
She felt him move slightly away from her, and knew that, as he kissed and suckled her breasts, he was shoving his chausses and braes down his legs and kicking them away.
A second later, one hand was on her bottom, the other on her belly. He inched his fingers down until he was caressing her intimately, making her moan with the intensity of these new sensations. She’d never imagined that his touch would make her weaken and quiver so.
Heat spread everywhere he touched, its flames emanating from her core, licking her with fire all the way up her spine and down to her toes.
“Adam,” she whispered.
He picked her up and eased her onto the bed, covering her with his body, one thigh between hers. He was solid and heavy, but his weight was welcome, exciting.
His eyes were dark in the flickering light of the fire and the candles. Cristiane opened to him and he breathed her name once…and again.
Adam took possession of her lips once more, kissing her as their tongues danced, mated. Cristiane shuddered and clung to him even as she welcomed him. He changed position slightly, and she felt his heated flesh at the entrance to her body.
He moaned and said, “You are moist, Cristiane…ready for me,” he said, as if he could not believe it. Then he entered her, moving forward slowly, relentlessly.
Cristiane let out a tiny huff of breath, tilting to accommodate his size. His penetration was uncomfortable at first, burning and stretching her, but he stopped, giving her a moment to adjust to him.
Then he moved.
A flood of odd feelings swept through her, extraordinary sensations that propelled her forward at a dizzying speed. She had no control, and no desire for control. There was only a feeling of utter and complete freedom.
She arched against him as he moved, repeating the motion again and again until she was consumed by a kind of pleasure that was so exquisite, so perfect, that she could not grasp its reality. ’Twas as if every sensation, every feeling and emotion she’d ever known culminated in this one wondrous moment with Adam.
His eyes were squeezed tight, his head thrown back, and all the muscles in his neck were taut. Cristiane knew he was experiencing the same kind of peak she’d known only a moment before. The thought of it was so arousing that it pushed her over the edge once more and she shattered again, even as Adam climaxed.
“Cristy!” His voice was strained, but ’twas clear he’d called her name.
They lay quietly entwined as their breathing returned to normal. Adam propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her, then kissed the corner of her mouth. When he moved to leave her, Cristiane held on to him.
Boldly, she gazed into his eyes. “I would have you linger, m’lord,” she said.
A moment passed, then Adam took her mouth again, kissing her deeply. A fierce shudder ran through him, and he was aroused again, filling her, moving with her, taking her to the same heights where she’d peaked with him only moments before.
Adam could not sleep. In awe, he watched Cristiane’s lovely features as she dozed, and he marveled at the incredible hours he’d just spent with her.
Never in his wildest imaginings could he have known ’twould be like this. He’d been rendered profoundly speechless.
He had finally tucked Cristiane into the curve of his body and gently caressed her until she slept. He had no doubt she would have made love with him once again if he’d been so inclined.
He had been.
But he knew her body could not tolerate more. Not tonight, mayhap not tomorrow night. Yet now, as he lay next to his wife in her snug bed, listening to her even breaths and feeling the steady pulse in her chest, he felt hope. For the first time in years, he saw a future here on Bitterlee—for himself, for his daughter and his people.
All that they had endured over the past few years was about to change. They had a good crop in, the fishermen were successful and the livestock healthy. Even Charles looked better today than he had only yesterday.
Life was fine, indeed.
“And the ducklings can feed themselves now?” Meggie asked as she sat at Cristiane’s feet near the pond.
“Aye,” Cristiane replied. “They’re old enough to make it on their own. But they’ll still expect you to visit.”
“Just like the fox at the waterfall?”
“Exactly,” Cristiane said, laughing. She could not have been happier, or more content. She had awakened early that morn in Adam’s arms, and had watched him sleep.
His whiskers were heavy and black in the morning, except for the thick, white line of scar along his jaw. He seemed almost boyish in sleep, without the worries and cares of his station, and Cristiane would always have him looking so untroubled, even though she knew ’twas not possible. Not for a lord who cared so much for the welfare of his people.
She felt an odd fluttering in her stomach when she thought of him, and of his kisses. She’d been embarrassed when he’d awakened to discover her gazing adoringly at him, but he’d put her at ease with affectionate touches and reassuring words.
He cared for her. He’d not said it exactly, but Cristiane did not know how ’twould be possible to share such intimacy and not feel an intensity of emotion. She was truly his wife now, and no matter what Sara Cole had once been to him, that had surely changed.
Adam had not lingered in her chamber this morn, but soon left to shave and dress in his own room. He had gone to look in on Sir Charles before riding to town to take care of some business. He had not said when he would return, but Cristiane was unconcerned. Tonight she would spend another glorious night in his arms.
“Will Papa come and find us here?” Meg asked.
“Aye, I hope he does,” she replied, “if he returns from town before we go back.”
“He’s gone to see Sara.”
Meg’s simple statement shattered Cristiane’s newfound confidence. She frowned, disbelieving, and shook her head. “Nay, I donna think so, lass,” she replied.
Meg laughed. “You sound so very different sometimes,” she said.
But Cristiane hardly heard her. Had Adam gone to see Sara? She did not like to consider that possibility, but how could she be sure? ’Twas foolish and naive to think that just because he’d spent the night in her bed, his relationship with Sara was a thing of the past.
She swallowed and stilled the trembling in her hands. How could she prepare herself to share her husband with the townswoman?
“Cristy?” Meg asked, her face a mask of concern. “Are you still ill?”
“N-nay, love,” Cristiane stammered. “I just…thought of something, is all.”
“Can we go to the waterfall now?” Meg asked. “And see if the little fox will come?”
Numbly, Cristiane allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Meg grabbed her hand and drew her along the garden path and out the castle gate. ’Twas not until they were on the path to the waterfall that Cristiane was able to shake off her dismal thoughts.
Surely Adam had not gone to his lover the moment he’d left her bed. Meg’s statement meant naught. The child had no real idea where her father had gone, but because he’d visited Sara in the past, Meg assumed he was visiting her now. Cristiane told herself she was worrying unnecessarily.
Adam returned from town and looked for his wife. She was not in her chamber, nor anywhere in the castle with Meg. Certain that they’d either be climbing the rocks on the beach or enticing the little fox down by the waterfall, he gave himself a few moments to visit with Charles. Rain threatened, and Cristiane would know it. She would soon return with Meg.
Adam greeted Sara quietly. He was more certain than ever that her feelings for Charles ran deep. She had spent the day with him, feeding him, giving him medicine and tending to his every need. ’Twas clear she could not accept the truth of his condition.
C
harles looked as bad as he had two days ago. Though he’d lived through one crisis, anyone could see that there would be another. Soon. His color was gray, and he often had trouble catching his breath. Even more ominous, his cough was much weaker now.
Adam was grateful he had Cristiane to help him through this. When the end came, he would take comfort in her presence, her love. He had no doubt of her feelings for him, and at his first opportunity, he would tell her that he felt the same.
He did not know why he’d been reticent last night, except he’d been so stunned by her reaction to his lovemaking. Never in his wildest imaginings had he ever thought he’d have so sensual a wife, a woman whose appetite for him would equal his own.
“Sara…” he said when Charles dozed off. Adam drew her out of the chamber and stood in the shadowy gallery next to the hall. “Sara, you mus—”
“Please, my lord,” she replied, “don’t say it.”
Adam hesitated, but knew he had to speak up. “It grieves me to say it, but it’s time to prepare yourself. The fever may have abated, but you can see for yourself that he is not long for—”
She raised one hand and covered his lips as she burst into tears. Adam pulled her to him and held her.
“I know he cannot survive this, Adam,” she said, her voice choked by her tears.
Adam ran one hand up and down her back, then smoothed a lock of hair back from her forehead. It hurt to see his sister so distressed, to know her anguish was caused by the imminent death of his closest friend.
“I’ve loved him ever since I came to Bitterlee,” she said. “He was so kind to me, but he always said he was too old to take a wife, too old to sire the children he said I should have.”
Adam did not know what to say, so he remained silent and let Sara whisper her secrets, her sorrows.
And he held her, offering what little comfort he could.
Dark clouds hovered low over the isle as Cristiane and Meg hurried up the path toward home. Cristiane wanted to be inside before the rain came. The white walls of the castle rose majestically ahead, and she was struck by the thought of this place as her home. This was where she belonged, where she would stay.
She was desperately in love with her husband and could only pray that he would soon come to love her. She vowed to do all in her power to be a good wife to him, so that he could not help but feel the same. She only needed to keep him from Sara for a time, and she would win his affections.
They entered the bailey through the gates and saw Gerard Sutton approaching on foot, a water skin slung over his arm, and a heavily laden satchel in his other hand. Cristiane’s eyes darted around, looking for a route of escape, but found none. She had no choice but to walk past him.
“Tending the simpleton again, I see,” he jeered.
Besides all the other emotions churning through her, anger boiled to the surface, and Cristiane decided she could no longer play the docile outcast. Adam had chosen her for his wife, even if his reason had been solely because of her talent with Meg. The child was her daughter now, and Cristiane would tolerate no more insults toward her.
“Meggie, love, run to the keep and go up to your chamber,” she said. “Wait for me there.”
The child did as she was told, and Cristiane turned to face the vile uncle of her husband. “You have berated my daughter once too many times, Sir Gerard,” she said. “I’ll not tolerate it again. Guard your tongue when you speak to her or—”
“Or what?” he scoffed. An evil light glittered in his eye as he spoke again. “You’ll tell your husband? The man who has Sara Cole in his arms even now?”
The bottom fell out of Cristiane’s stomach. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling, and braced herself against the wave of pain that threatened to overcome her. “You lie.”
He laughed, then shrugged as if it were inconsequential. “See for yourself. They’re hardly discreet—standing in the hall where anyone can see them.”
Cristiane pulled her cloak about her and strode purposefully toward the keep, blocking the sound of Gerard’s laughter from her ears. She entered through the door next to the chapel, just as Meg had done. Quietly, afraid of what she would see, yet certain that Gerard had lied only to hurt her, she walked down the gallery toward the great hall.
She stopped suddenly and felt the world shift under her feet. Gerard had not lied.
In the shadows across from her stood Adam and Sara, exactly as Gerard had described—locked in a tender embrace.
Pain hit hard, stealing her breath away. Tears welled in her eyes as the truth struck her, and Cristiane backed away from the sight of Adam holding his lover in his arms, caressing her, talking with her in low, intimate tones.
Cristiane found herself walking across the bailey again, hardly aware of her surroundings, propelled by some unconscious momentum. She stumbled out through the castle gate and continued on, half running along the path, oblivious to the darkening clouds or the increasing winds.
Eventually, she came to the break in the rocks, where she climbed down the craggy cliff to the sea. With the wind whipping her clothes, she picked her way among the boulders, desperate to get as far from the castle as possible. She could not stay there. She had to get away and think!
Mayhap in time she could accustom herself to sharing her husband with the woman he loved, but today was not that day. Her emotions were raw after she’d spent a blissful night in his arms, only to discover it had meant naught to him.
She’d given all to Adam, her body as well as her heart. She had felt cherished and desired, and for the first time in ages, she’d felt as if she belonged.
She’d been wrong.
By the time she reached the water, big drops of rain had started to fall, but Cristiane did not care. She held her cloak around her and kept moving, farther than she’d gone before—losing herself in the wind and rain, heedless of the high waves and crashing surf. The storm pelted her now, soaking through her cloak, drenching her hair. She stumbled once and fell, scraping the heel of one hand on a rock.
She hardly noticed.
Awareness of her surroundings did not come until the wind was so strong that Cristiane could not catch her breath. She suddenly felt the chill through to her bones and realized that the heavy gusts might very well push her into the sea.
And she did not want to die. She wanted to make a life on Bitterlee with Adam and Meg. She was no coward. She had been a fool to run away from the challenge of winning her husband. Sara Cole might still have a hold on Adam’s heart, but ’twas a tenuous one. It had to be.
With a resurgence of hope in her heart, Cristiane started back toward the cliff and began to look for shelter.
Rain battered the window of Cristiane’s empty chamber. Adam had looked for her everywhere in the castle, but she was nowhere to be found.
He looked down at his daughter, whose eyes were bright with fear, and asked again, “She told you she would come to you here?”
“I-in my chamber, Papa.”
“Let’s look again, then,” he said, though he had no real hope of finding her there. She had disappeared. Vanished.
And if he didn’t find her, his heart would never be the same.
Holding Meg’s hand, he returned to her chamber, where they both sat on the bed. Meg was distraught with the storm and the rumbles of thunder that were still far off in the distance. Adam wanted to shout questions at the child, but he knew he could not push her. “Tell me again, sweetheart,” he said, controlling his anxiety, “what did Cristy say to you?”
“She said I was to r-run along to the keep, and wait in my chamber. A-and she would come to me here.”
“How long ago?” he asked, though he doubted his daughter had any concept of time. “Was it this morn, after you broke your fast? Or—”
“’Twas not long ago, Papa,” she cried, tears now streaming down her face. The sight of them wrenched Adam’s heart, and he hugged her close. “We were at the p-pond, but it was going to rain, so we came back.”
“But Cristy sent you ahead?”
“So she could t-talk to…to Sir G-Gerard.”
Damnation! He should have known there was more to it. “What did Sir Gerard say?” Adam asked, keeping his voice level and controlled as he held her.
“He was cruel, Papa, and he m-made Cristy angry.”
Adam moved away enough to be able to see his daughter’s face. “And you have not seen her since?”
“No, Papa.”
A kind of rage that Adam had not felt in years welled up in him, and he felt as if he would burst. If Gerard had done aught to endanger Cristiane, Adam would have no qualms about dispensing due punishment. “Come on,” he said to Meg, taking her hand and helping her off the bed. He lifted her up and carried her out into the gallery and down the steps, quickly reaching the great hall.
He found Mathilde and put Meg in her care, with the admonishment that the child was not to be put on her knees for any reason. Then he suggested that the nursemaid locate the children of the kitchen maids, and help to supervise all the children in play.
Grabbing a thick oilcloth cloak from a peg by the door, Adam whistled for his dogs. Ren and Gray jumped up from their places on the hearth and circled him excitedly. As soon as Adam opened the door, they bounded out of the keep ahead of him.
The clouds were thick and low, and the rain came down in torrents, but the worst of the storm had yet to reach the isle. Adam pulled up his hood, tucked his head down and made his way through the castle gate.
He paid no attention to the ache in his thigh, but followed the muddy path, considering only where Gerard might have taken Cristiane. And why.
He could not imagine Cristiane going willingly with his uncle…nor could he understand why Gerard would take her away from the keep. It made no sense. Unless Cristiane had run away from Gerard and had been unable to get back to the castle.
That was the only explanation possible.
Bride of the Isle Page 23
