“Take heart—” Geoffrey leaned in toward her, “—you have the remainder of the evening to convince him otherwise.”
Catrina’s eyes widened. Geoffrey’s grin confirmed it—Sara had spoken to him before about their plan.
He knew everything.
Embarrassed, she made to stand, but Geoffrey’s hand on her shoulder stayed her. “You’re the only one who can convince him, my lady.”
“So you approve, Sir Geoffrey?”
“I do. I’ve never seen Bryce act this way before. He’s sotted but refuses to admit it.”
“Your wife said the same.”
“Listen to her,” he said with a grin. “Sara is as smart as she is beautiful.”
Geoffrey was clearly in love with his wife.
“And I agree with you. One can have all three.” He winked at her and turned back to the conversation.
She smiled. Catrina genuinely liked Geoffrey.
Why can’t Bryce be more like him?
Because he wasn’t Geoffrey. Bryce was serious—something that made his rare smiles all the sweeter. And he was also determined and loyal. If he hadn’t been spurned by the Lady Elena for being a second son, he would likely not be so mistrustful. But his one near miss with marriage had convinced Bryce he didn’t believe in love. Or that he wasn’t worthy of it.
Well, he was wrong and Geoffrey was right. She needed to show him otherwise.
Tonight.
22
When she returned to the tent well after the sun had set, Bryce was not there. After awkwardly pulling off her breeches and makeshift tunic in the small space, Catrina placed her clothing and leather boots to the side. She extinguished her candle and lay down on the makeshift bed, which consisted of nothing more than heather and pine needles covered with two woolen blankets.
Every so often she could feel a prickle beneath her.
Slowly the camp began to quiet. Large fires became smoldering embers, or so she imagined. She couldn’t see anything, not even her own hand, but Catrina knew the routine from their earlier travels. Although this time, there were more men present.
She refused to think about their purpose for being here and instead concentrated on her own plan. But as she lay in the darkness and the noises around camp began to quiet, her nervousness was replaced by hopelessness.
Because he wasn’t coming.
He’d obviously found another place to sleep.
When the tent flap opened a moment later, Catrina immediately knew it was him. She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but that scent was uniquely Bryce. She lay on her side with her back turned to him, listening to the sound of him disrobing.
Did he purposefully attempt to avoid her? Is that why he had stayed away so late into the night? What should she do? Listening to Sara’s advice was much different than acting on it. Her heart beat painfully in her chest.
Bryce eventually lay next to her, so close she could hear his even breathing.
She couldn’t do it. It was too…bold.
But then, if she didn’t, Bryce would never know how she felt.
She turned and propped her head on her hand.
“Do you truly believe it impossible for man and wife to be in love and to…you know?”
She couldn’t see his face, but the shadow moved.
“I’m not sure I understand, Catrina.”
Her name rolled off his tongue like a sensual embrace. Slow and deliberate.
“Never mind.”
He was hopeless.
“I do mind. What exactly are we discussing?”
“Oh, for the sake of St. Thomas.” She was glad it was too dark for him to see her face.
“You are intimately familiar with a large number of saints, Catrina. Although I don’t believe your Father Simon would approve of the way you choose to honor them.”
Honor them indeed. Using a saint’s name in vain was the worst kind of epithet, but she blamed her brothers for her lack of restraint in that area.
“I don’t suppose he would.” As a matter of fact, he’d have quite a bit to say about the matter.
Better just to say it. “Lovemaking.”
There, she’d said it. Aloud.
“Ahhh, I see.”
“Are you deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not working.” Actually, she was pretty sure it was.
“Nay? In that case, I’ll leave you to your sleep.”
He turned away. Bryce was not making this easy. Though, come to think of it, when had he ever made anything easy? “I want you to kiss me again.”
Catrina didn’t move. And neither did Bryce.
“Catrina, it’s not a good idea—”
“Aye, it is.”
She wished there was more light. Without it, she couldn’t see his expression. Had no idea what he was thinking. Before she thought better of it, Catrina reached out and tentatively touched her hand to his face. The stubble there fascinated her. He felt so…masculine.
Just when she was about to pull away, convinced it was a mistake, Bryce grasped her hand with his own.
She jumped when he placed her finger in his mouth. The smooth wetness of his tongue as he wrapped his lips around her sent chills down her back. And then he began to suckle, slowly moving her finger in and out, increasing pressure until she felt the slight grazing of his teeth.
There it was again. The same feeling she’d experienced at the inn before her release. She wanted that again. Catrina inched closer until her body was nearly pressed against him. She could feel his bare chest under her own thin chemise.
He released her finger and replaced it with his lips. Then, in one quick motion, Bryce shifted her body so it lay atop his. He devoured her mouth, and she allowed him full access, pressing her tongue against his own, frantically trying to show Bryce the depth of her feelings for him.
She wanted to touch and taste every part of him. She gave her tongue freely as he captured it with his own. His body, gloriously bare, pressed below her like a hard slab of rock turned to warm flesh. Catrina moved her hands along his broad shoulders and then down the length of his arms. Muscle, everywhere.
He groaned. Was she giving him as much pleasure as he gave her?
She wanted to give him more. Wanted to know all of him.
Catrina reluctantly pulled back.
“Make love to me, Bryce.” He’d denied her once. Would he do so again?
He never should have allowed her to stay. And certainly should have found alternative sleeping arrangements. Bryce had convinced himself that he alone could ensure her safety and nothing more. He’d stayed away from their tent for as long as he could, thinking she would be asleep when he returned.
Obviously, he had been wrong.
He’d heard her breathing quicken as soon as he entered the tent. It had been a mistake to lie next to her, pressing closer than was needed, but by God, he couldn’t regret it. It felt so good. She felt so good. Every time he was near her, Bryce could not stop thinking about the look on her face that night at the inn. When he’d tasted her. Made her climax. Thinking of it instantly hardened him.
Make love to me.
There was nothing he wanted more.
“If I could, Catrina, I would have done so a hundred times already.”
He couldn’t see her face, but he could smell her. The sensation of her two heavenly breasts pressed up against his bare chest made him itch to remove her chemise. But she wasn’t his to take.
“Why not?” she asked.
Why not, indeed? He could hardly say ‘because I plan to challenge your brother tomorrow and one of us will end up dead.’
“You know why, Catrina. You’ve kept your maidenhood for a reason. To give it to your husband.” He had to grind out the words. The thought of her with another man—this deSowlis or anyone—made him want to break things.
“But I want to give it to you.”
“Catrina, you don’t want that.”
&
nbsp; She shook her head, her hair brushing against his chest, tantalizing him. Teasing him.
“I am a grown woman. Please don’t tell me what I want. This is what I want.”
He could not disgrace her in that way. “Catrina, tomorrow—”
She placed a hand on his mouth.
Saucy wench.
“Nay, that doesn’t matter now. This matters.”
She placed her lips on his, touching her tongue to his, and Bryce was undone.
It was simply too much. He groaned, grabbed her around the back, and rolled her under him. He felt for the hem of her chemise and pulled it over her head. Lying atop her, propped on his elbows, Bryce pressed their bodies together. No woman had ever fit him the way she did. No woman had ever felt this good against him.
Then she began to move. He still wore his hose, the garment the only remaining barrier between them. Without them, Catrina Kerr would no longer be a maid. He’d deflower a woman on the eve of the most devastating night of her life. He simply couldn’t do it.
“Catrina, I can—”
“Bryce, please.” Her normally light voice, now anything but, broke him. She was serious. “Please,” she repeated.
He couldn’t deny her any longer. Couldn’t deny himself. He stood, tore off his hose, and positioned himself over her once again.
“How…where…”
“Shhhh…” He kissed her, gently at first. He teased her mouth with his lips, circling and nipping at them as he allowed her to become accustomed to the feel of him above her.
He reached his hand down and slipped a finger inside her.
She was wet, ready for him. He moved his hand against her mound, increasing the pressure until she pushed back against him. Bryce slipped a second finger inside and thrust. The sounds deep in Catrina’s throat told him she was getting close.
Expertly moving his hand to bring Catrina to climax, he finally felt the spasms beneath his fingers. Although their tent was at a small distance from the others, Catrina must have realized they could still easily be overheard. As she came beneath his fingers, only her movements told him she was well pleased.
With any luck, he could remain as quiet.
Bryce positioned himself above her, prepared to make her his. “This can’t be undone.”
He reached up to cup a full breast. Using his thumb to harden its peak, he leaned down and took it into his mouth.
“Please, Bryce.”
He continued to tease her with his tongue as he guided himself toward her. Should he warn her that it would hurt? Or would the anticipation of pain be worse? He wasn’t in the habit of bedding virgins, but he decided to make it quick. Slipping himself inside and giving her a moment to adjust, Bryce found the barrier he had known would be there and stopped. She’d never taken a man inside her before. He knew that, even expected it, but for some reason, the evidence pleased him.
“Catrina—”
“I’m sure.”
It was enough.
He thrust into her and covered his mouth with hers, capturing her scream. So much for silence.
He tried to distract her with his mouth, and it seemed to work. After what seemed like an eternity, she began to move under him.
Slowly at first, he moved in and out, the exquisite sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. She was tight, aye, exceedingly so. But there was something more to their joining. An unfamiliar emotion swelled within him—something that had nothing to do with lust.
He pushed it aside.
Bryce moved quickly, his cock throbbing, threatening to explode. He took a deep breath and attempted to calm his rapidly beating heart. He’d seen her naked before, but the feel of her soft body surging in movement against him, in concert with him, was nearly too much.
Nothing else existed but the two of them in this small tent on the edge of camp. He had imagined being inside her so many times, but never…never…had he imagined this. She met his every thrust, her hands splayed on his backside. She wanted more, and he gave it to her.
“Come, my sweet Catrina. Come with me.”
He wasn’t sure whether she understood what he meant, but she lifted her hips, forcing him to bury himself full hilt.
By all that is holy, what the hell is happening?
He reached down between them and found the sensitive flesh between her legs. Almost immediately, Catrina cried out and began to pulse under him. Her slickness allowed him to find his own release. One final thrust and he collapsed against her, taut nipples pressing into his chest.
What the hell did I just do?
Hearing about the act and having the man she loved inside her were two completely different things.
Now she understood.
Her brothers’ preoccupation with the topic. Her lady’s maid’s secret smiles after she became a wife. She understood it all.
“Does it always feel as such?”
She hadn’t meant to ask the question aloud.
Bryce pulled out of her and rolled to the side. She immediately felt the loss of his warmth, but he lay next to her, his leg touching her own.
“Nay.”
What does that mean?
“Catrina, I apologize—”
“Don’t. Please don’t.” She did not want him to regret it. She didn’t regret it.
“We need to talk,” Bryce said.
She yawned, “Aye. We do.” She reached for him in the dark. He pulled her even closer, fitting her against his body. She laid her head on his chest and tentatively placed her hand on his stomach. Muscles tensed under her fingertips. She traced the ridges with her finger. Bryce pulled a blanket over them, and the last thing Catrina remembered before she fell asleep was how perfectly they fit together and how hard his chest was under her head.
When she woke up, he was gone.
23
Why is the bed so hard?
She remembered everything at once. Where was Bryce? How long had she slept? It was still dark, but he was gone. Could he have left already?
Please God, no.
She sat up and felt a new tightness between her legs. She looked down to see spots of blood on the woolen blanket. She was no longer a virgin.
She shuddered, thinking about how her brothers would react.
And Graeme. She’d thought for most of her life she would become his wife, but that was no longer possible. Nor did she want it to be.
She loved Bryce.
But unless she could find him and stop whatever he had planned, it may not matter. Dressing quickly, Catrina folded the blanket into the bedroll in case Bryce’s squire came into the tent. Pulling open the flap, she saw soldiers beginning to stir around camp. Did any of them know what had happened? It was bad enough that she and Bryce had shared a tent. And while part of her didn’t care, another part of her was embarrassed that she had given herself to a man who was not her husband—a man who had not even discussed the possibility of marriage with her.
She walked through camp and received only grunts and nods. Nothing extraordinary. No one seemed to know their lord’s whereabouts. She considered seeking out Geoffrey when something suddenly occurred to her.
The men were not preparing for battle. Their leisurely pace was at odds with what she’d expect of an army readying to meet the enemy on the battlefield.
Bryce had said he was meeting Toren at Norham Castle today. Though she’d realized Bryce—and probably Toren—wouldn’t be satisfied until one or the other was dead, she’d assumed their forces would meet on the battlefield.
What is he planning?
She found Bryce’s captain warming his hands over the dying embers of a small fire.
“Good morrow.” She couldn’t remember the man’s name.
“Good morrow, my lady.” The man’s full red beard reminded her of a Highlander who had once challenged Toren to a fight. Supposedly her brother had stolen the man’s wife. For an evening, at least. Toren denied it, of course.
“I’m looking for Sir Bryce.”
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�He’s already left.”
The man’s expression gave her chills. Something was amiss.
“Left for where?” Catrina had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.
The captain looked over her shoulder as if assessing who was listening. Very few men moved through camp, and none were nearby.
Scratching his beard, he said, “If the lord didn’t say, it may not be for me—”
She summoned her most authoritative tone, the one she used on her brothers when they refused to listen to her. “Where is your lord?”
“Lady Catrina—”
“If you don’t tell me, I will go looking for him myself.”
His self-assured smile implied he knew something she did not. He nodded toward the edge of camp near the tent she’d shared with Bryce. There was a man standing there, his arms crossed, looking at them.
“Your guard may have something to say about that,” the captain replied.
“God’s bones! What is going on?”
Her heart raced. Where was Bryce?
“He’s gone off to meet your brother.” The captain spat on the ground next to him and took a bite of a large chunk of bread.
“Meet?”
For a moment, she didn’t think he would answer. Maybe he took pity on her, or maybe he just wanted her to go away. Either way, he finally offered useful information.
“My lord challenged your brother to a judicial combat. He accepted.”
“And their champions?” Lord help her, she already knew the answer.
“They’ll have none.”
Catrina sank to the ground. She could feel the wetness seeping through her breeches and reaching her knees. Today, one of the men she loved would die. A trial by combat always began at sunrise. So that was the reason they’d brought so few men, only a small portion of Kenshire’s army. They weren’t here to fight.
Oddly, she didn’t cry. Catrina simply stood and walked back to the tent. She heard Bryce’s captain calling her name, but the sound was like a wind’s whistle through the trees, distant and imperceptible.
She sat and stared at Bryce’s bedroll and shoved it to the side. Catrina wanted to hide the evidence of their lovemaking. That bastard had actually spent the night with her knowing he was facing her brother this morn.
The Lord's Captive (Border Series Book 2) Page 21
