by Eliza Knight
Wuller yanked at his tunic. He tossed it aside and revealed a belly soft and pale and covered in dark hair, so much in contrast with Liam. Wuller licked his lips as he grabbed for the growing appendage between his thighs that pressed eagerly against his hose. She yanked her eyes away, trying not to appear full of fear.
This had to work.
“Get away from my daughter.” Now her mother was pushing to stand, cradling her broken fingers in one hand. “The stone. We have it.”
The stone… Suddenly Cora’s chest felt hot where the amber pressed against it. Was this what Ughtred had been after? What his own brother might want as well?
Wuller wheeled on her mother, brandishing his knife. “Get back down.”
“Mother, please, do as he says.” Cora sent her a pleading look, hoping it would work, hoping her mother would listen without Cora having to show she had a weapon, that she had a plan. She started to tug the necklace from her bodice, but her mother shook her head violently, shouting no. Wuller took it as her decision not to remain down, but to fight, rather than for what it truly was—an order not to expose the necklace.
Wuller marched on her mother, and Lady Segrave cowered. No! In the heat of the moment, he was going to do as he’d threatened. As he raised his arm to slash it down toward her mother, Cora leapt from the bed, brandishing her own weapon. Everything happened fast then.
She rushed toward him, stabbing hard at his back just before he brought his knife down toward her mother. The dagger sunk into his back with a sickening sound, and the jolt of it vibrated up her arm. Her attack was enough of a deterrent, slowing his movement and giving her mother a chance to scoot away.
Cora didn’t wait. She yanked her dagger out of his back without hesitation and stabbed him again. Her dagger struck his shoulder. Wuller pivoted then, and her hands failed to keep hold of the weapon. The hilt was too slippery with his blood, and the movement jarred her enough that she let go and couldn’t seem to get another grip.
Wuller roared in pain and shoved Cora to the ground, kicking at her with his boots and catching her hard in the ribs. She tried to scoot away from him, wincing in pain but willing herself to fight. She was far enough out of his way that his last kick missed her but had him off balance. His own two feet tangled around themselves and the rug, and he stumbled forward and caught himself before he fell down hard. He let out an angry bellow and grappled for the dagger still stuck in his shoulder.
Cora wasted no time shoving to her feet and running toward the hearth for the fire poker. No way was she going to allow him to win this fight. If he got hold of the dagger, he’d have a weapon in each hand, and she’d be done for. She might have needed saving before, but she’d prepared for this moment, and she was going to save herself this time.
Wuller rushed her, arms outstretched, a dagger in each hand.
It was now or never. Cora swung the fire poker, gaining momentum as she brought it forward and hit him in the head with a thwack not one second before he would have stabbed her. A sickening crack echoed in the room, and he dropped to his knees before slumping forward as Cora leapt out of the way. The daggers fell silently from his hands onto the tapestried rug.
Cora stood stunned, shaking, waiting for him to get up and attack her again, but he didn’t move.
A large gash had torn open the flesh of his skull, and he was bleeding what seemed like the entire contents of his body all over the tapestried carpet, causing the intricately woven flowers to blend in with one another.
“Cora!” her mother cried out, jolting her from her trance.
“Mother.” Cora forgave her mother in that moment for all the things she’d said in the past couple of months. Her mother had to have been under Wuller’s influence; there was no other explanation for it.
They embraced, each of them trembling, crying.
“You were so brave,” her mother murmured against Cora’s hair, squeezing her so tightly she thought she’d crack one of her already bruised ribs. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Aye, sweet child, it is, at least partially. I should have been stronger.”
Loud bangs came from the door. Both women stared at the wood vibrating on its hinges. Neither of them had the strength to open it and find out who was there.
“Cora!” Liam’s voice rang out loud and clear.
“Oh, thank the saints,” Cora gushed out in relief and dashed to the entrance. She swung the door open wide and tossed herself into her husband’s arms.
He felt so good, so real, so safe. Strong and warm arms wrapped around her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she buried her face in his shirt, letting his scent surround her in a cocoon.
Men filed into the room, making their assessments verbally, but Cora registered none of it, only the murmurs from Liam that all was well.
They carried Wuller from the room. He wasn’t quite dead yet, but still she couldn’t look.
“Shh…” Liam whispered into her ear. “’Tis all right. Ye’re safe. Ye did well, love. So brave. A warrior woman.” He continued to whisper words of encouragement in her ear, and Cora slowly calmed, the trembling in her hands dissipating.
Alice rushed into the room next, her hair disheveled, working dress torn, and a bruise marring her cheek. She explained how Wuller had taken precautions and locked her and her mother’s maid in his wardrobe.
“I need a bath. A hot bath and a hot whisky,” Lady Segrave said, leaning on Alice and her own assigned maid.
They were murmuring to her mother as they took her out of the chamber, and soon enough, Liam and Cora were alone, too.
“Would ye also like a bath, love?” Liam gazed down at her with such emotion in his eyes, it was enough to make her heart leap from her chest.
Love… It was the second time he’d said it to her in as short a time. “Yes.” She offered him a soft smile.
Liam took her hand in his and led her out into the corridor. “We’ll need a bath sent to a new chamber,” he said to a passing servant. Then he lifted her into the air, cradling her close as he walked her up a flight of stairs into another well-appointed chamber.
“Where are we?” she asked as he set her down and went to the hearth to make a fire.
“’Tis a chamber assigned to Robert’s trusted nobles. I thought it would be nice for ye to have a new room where ye didna have to deal with memories of that man.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Oh, how glad she was that he had.
“But I did, sweetheart. I did.” Liam took her in his arms, pressing her head to his chest where she could hear the very real, steady beat of his heart. “I wish I’d been there to bash his head in.”
Cora smiled up at him. “If you’d not given me back my dagger, I never would have had the chance.”
“Och, lass, dinna take away from what ye did. This was all ye, and I’m proud of it. Without the dagger, I’m sure ye would have found another clever way to thwart the bastard. He attacked ye years ago, changed the course of your life forever. ’Tis your due to make it right again.”
“Oh, Liam.” She buried her face against his chest, emotion welling within her. Suddenly, she couldn’t keep it in any longer. She leaned her head back, stared up into his mesmerizing green eyes and said, “I love you.”
“Mo chridhe,” Liam murmured, eyes closed and pressing his forehead to hers once more and drawing in a ragged breath. When he opened his eyes, they shined. “I love ye with all I am, now and forever more.”
Cora wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her chin and pressed her lips to his. Never had there been more beautiful words said to her. Never before had there been words that affected her so immediately and so powerfully. He loved her.
Who would ever have believed that a marriage forged so young, one kept secret for over a decade, could end with the pair saying their hearts were filled with love?
Chapter 19
A knock at the door interrupted what was about to be a very passionate kiss.
“Who is it?” Liam called through the portal, trying not to be irritated that he had to part from his lovely wife’s mouth.
“We’ve got your bath, sir.”
Liam allowed the servants entry to set up the bath for Cora. Along with it, they brought a tray filled with wine and what looked to be almond honey cakes. The entire time the servants traipsed through the room, Liam and Cora stared at each other. Liam from near the hearth, and his wife from her seat next to the window. The air was so thick with the heat of their sensual tension, he might have to slice through it with his sword in order to get to her.
As soon as they were gone, Cora stared longingly at him and the bath. He wasn’t about to let the lass miss out on the luxury of a good soak because he selfishly wanted to haul her up against him and make love to her. At last…
“Shall I fetch your maid?” he asked, wanting to tell her what he really desired—which was to bathe her himself.
Her face heated, and she glanced down toward where her fingers touched. “No. I…I thought that perhaps I could take you up on the offer you gave me on the road. To help.”
Liam’s eyes widened, and it was only because he kept his jaw tightly clenched that it didn’t fall to his chest. Was he hearing correctly? Had she read his mind? His heart thudded against his chest like stone against stone.
“Aye,” he croaked out. “’Twould be my pleasure to help ye, love.”
Cora flashed him a brilliant smile. “Thank you.” She unhooked the braided belt at her hips, tossed it onto a chair and turned around.
Liam eagerly devoured the back of her with his eyes. Slim, delicate shoulders dipped to her trim waist and then flared out at the hips. The gown rested against her buttocks in a way that taunted him with their roundness, and he itched to reach forward and slide his palms over the globes before giving a gentle squeeze. At the images flashing before his mind, the blood raced from nearly everywhere in his body to his groin, causing the front of his plaid to shift with his engorged shaft. Good God… How was he going to make it through washing her naked body if looking at the back of her gown had this affect?
Facing away from him, Cora moved in slow, deliberate movements, as though she were taunting him on purpose. She slipped her braid over the side of her shoulder, revealing the back of her neck and the lacings of her gown.
“Will you help?” she asked over her right shoulder, eyes dipping slightly, sensually.
Liam lurched forward with all the grace of an ogre in his eagerness. He reached for the silk ribbon at the top and slowly pulled until it cleared the knot. Then he gently tugged, untying the rest, while he bent down to kiss her softly on the neck. Cora shivered and leaned her head to the side, a gesture of permission, an invitation for more.
He brushed his lips along the column of her soft neck until every last bit of the lacings were loosened, and then he moved to slide the fabric of her gown off her shoulders. Silky skin, warm and perfect, met his fingertips. She trembled a little at his touch, and gooseflesh rose everywhere he stroked.
“Are ye all right?” he asked. “Ye can change your mind if ye want.”
If she didn’t want to continue with where this was most certainly leading, he would walk away—even if it killed him.
“For the first time in forever, I am more than all right.” She reached up to where his hands were on her shoulders and gripped him, the softness of the leather on her palms a harsher contrast to his own battle-roughened hands.
“Good, for I am the same, sweet lass.”
He slipped her gown from her shoulders, leaving her in a thin chemise that showed nearly every inch of the flesh she hid beneath it.
“Ye’re so beautiful,” he said and bent low behind her, gripping her by the hips and turning her to face him as he knelt before her.
Gently, he lifted one of her feet and placed it on his thigh. He removed her shoe and then untied the lace of her hose right above the knee, stroking gently at the tiny soft spot behind her bent leg until she smiled and shivered.
“It amazes me that the tiniest touch feels so…incredible,” she said.
Liam grinned. “Aye.” He bent to kiss her bare knee, then finished slipping off her hose and repeated the moves on her other leg.
Then he stood, gathered Cora in his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless.
“I’d best get ye in the bath, else the water will be cold.”
Cora nodded, reached down low and lifted the hem of her chemise before tugging it over her head. Liam would have staggered back, falling on his arse, if he hadn’t locked his knees.
Her skin was smooth, golden in the glow of the candles and the hearth. He took her in from the delicate line of her collarbones to the swell of two stunning breasts tipped with two cherry-pink nipples that made his mouth water. The amber stone nestled between her plush mounds glowed in the candlelight. Her belly quivered delicately as he took in the shape of her navel and the thatch of light-colored hair between her perfectly shaped thighs.
Good God, but she was glorious. His body instantly grew harder, solid as iron. Blood pumped through his veins faster than a lad trying to get water because his house was on fire.
“I am a lucky bastard,” Liam murmured, reaching out and pulling a gloved hand toward his lips. “Allow me?”
She grinned and nodded as he slowly took off the leather, revealing the extent of the angry scars on her hands. He kissed the markings, wishing he could take away the torment she’d been through, willing to have been the one to be injured in her place.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she said. “Not anymore.”
Emotion flooded his chest, making it harder to breathe. And when he brought her flush to him and felt the heat of her body through his clothes, he wished he could simply rip his off and lie with her right then and there. However, they needed to go slow, as this was her first time. He wanted her to feel cherished, to experience every ounce of pleasure there was to be had.
Knowing that, he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he led her to the bath, holding her hand. Cora delicately lifted a leg and dipped her toe into the water.
“Is it still warm?”
“It’s perfect.” She sank her leg in, then the other, and he still held her as she lowered herself.
“Nay, lass, ye’re perfect.”
Cora beamed over at him, the water nearly up to her chin. “I feel like I’m in a dream.”
“Then let us never wake.”
He lifted one of the balls of soap that smelled faintly of roses and thyme, rubbed it on a damp cloth and then ran it over her delicate shoulders.
Cora leaned back against the tub, her arms resting on the rims, and sighed. “You do this better than my maid.”
“I’m glad ye think so,” he chuckled.
She closed her eyes as he rubbed the soap along her arms and gently over her hands. He used caution there, not wanting to hurt her, and was reassured when she said all was well.
“Lift your leg, lass.” He held his breath when she lifted her toes to the edge of the tub so he could wash her legs.
Silky knees poked from the water, and she pressed her calves together, forming a bridge he’d very much like to traverse. He’d not moved to any of the parts he knew would make him groan, saving those for last.
When he’d finished her legs and massaged her feet until she’d moaned, Cora ducked her head under the water and ran her fingers through the long golden tresses. And when she rose, he couldn’t help but kiss the droplets from her lips.
He soaped her hair, massaging in the sweet-smelling floral herb soap, then rinsing until the locks flowed between his fingertips like silk. Her eyes were closed, and he kissed the lids before dabbing at her face with the cloth to remove any leftover soap or water from her eyes.
“I’d like nothing more than to climb into this bath with ye,” he said. “But I fear ’tis too small.” And it was. The tub was a perfect fit for Cora, but if he climbed in, he’d look like a turtle in a shell, and there
would be no room for her.
“I could climb out,” Cora said, biting a plush pink lip, and flashing him both a wicked and shy smile.
Mo chreach, but the seductive way she was looking at him… She had no idea could affect him. She wasn’t putting on airs; this was all her, natural, genuine and sexy as hell.
“Aye…”
Cora stood, water dripping from her gloriously naked body and trickling in rivulets that he wanted to trail his tongue over.
He swallowed hard, primal desire coursing through him. Bloody hell. How was he going to control himself when he was lying with her? She stirred him so deeply and thoroughly, that he’d never experienced the like of it with anyone else.
“Will you dry me off?” Cora’s voice came out a near purr.
Liam’s throat was tight, all words lost. He nodded, grabbed a linen towel without taking his eyes off of her, and helped her from the tub. Water dripped into a tiny pool at her feet. He softly swiped the towel over her limbs, following the trail of the linen with his mouth. Neck, shoulders, arms, hands. And back again because her wet hair dripped onto the places he’d already dabbed dry.
Then his gaze caught on the fresh light-purple bruise marring her ribs. She must have sustained it in the attack with Wuller. He vowed if she hadn’t ended Wuller’s life, he would.
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “Forgotten already.”
Cora might be generous in her memory of Wuller, but he was not. But now was not the time for anger or vows of revenge. Now was the time to love his wife.
Liam ran the linen languidly down her spine, kissing each vertebra and groaning at every little gasp and sigh, especially when he reached her rounded buttocks and pressed his lips to each plump cheek.
On his knees, Liam moved to the front of her, sliding the damp linen between her breasts, then under and around, until he cupped each one gently, her nipples teasing his senses. Not another second could pass before he savored her. Leaning in close, he flicked his tongue over one turgid peak, and Cora gasped, arching her back.
God, she tasted good. Like magic and everything perfect in this world.
