Return of the Rose Read online

  Leonie’s cheeks turned the same reddish hue as the flames in the hearth. With a great huff, she excused herself.

  ~~~~

  That very night the smell of fresh bread and roasted chicken seeped into the great hall where Morgan and Odelia sat before a small marble table. The twitch in Morgan’s eye was worse than ever as she tried to concentrate on teaching Odelia how to play chess. “You cannot move your pawn two spaces, Odelia. You can only do that if it’s your pawns first move.”

  Odelia plunked the pawn back to where it was before. “Seems a foolish rule, if you ask me.”

  “If you take your hand off the chess piece, like you just did, then your turn is over.”

  “Well, why did you not tell me that rule ere I took my hand off?”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “Go ahead and take your turn. I’m just trying to teach you the rules of the game.”

  “Nay…I would not want to cheat,” Odelia said, as if Morgan’s offer was an insult.

  Morgan tried not to laugh as Odelia eyed her suspiciously, waiting for her to make a slip. The woman had no patience for learning games, Morgan decided as she moved her knight forward. A few more moves and she’d have Odelia’s king trapped.

  While Odelia pondered her next move, Morgan glanced over her shoulder and saw a large group enter the keep. Derek entered last. He wore dark colors tonight, from his short black cloak to his black leather boots. His mahogany eyes sparkled mischievously as she determined that he’d never looked more handsome than he did at this moment. When he glanced her way, her heart skipped a beat. He had saved her life last night. Knowing him as she did could only serve to make her life richer. For if she returned to her other life tomorrow, she’d know what it felt like to love a man: a flesh and blood man, not an empty suit of armor. She had a strong urge to tell Derek how she felt. She wanted to feel him hard against her and discover all he had to offer. Time was running out. She could feel it. If nothing else, Amanda’s father would be coming soon and their time together would be at an end.

  Derek winked, catching her off guard. She looked away, pretending to give her complete attention to the chessboard.

  “There, I got you!” Odelia exclaimed as she took Morgan’s king with her rook.

  “Odelia, you have to say ‘check’ before you can take my king. And, I hate to break it to you but a rook can only be moved horizontally, not diagonally.”

  “I surrender,” Odelia said, straining to push her full-figured body from her chair. “‘Tis an absurd game.”

  Morgan pinned Odelia with narrowed eyes. Derek had finally entered the keep. They couldn’t leave now. “Sit down and finish this game or I will tell that handsome jongleur you keep staring at that you want him here and now.”

  Odelia’s cheeks flushed crimson as she plopped back into her seat. “I am much too old for that fine gentleman, but ahhh, I see what has flared your temper, my lady.”

  Morgan followed the direction of Odelia’s gaze. Derek and Leonie sat near the hearth. Morgan’s stomach lurched at the sight of Leonie’s hand draped casually over Derek’s knee as she chatted with Emmon and Hugo as if they were the best of friends. Matti stood behind Hugo, a possessive hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  “My temper isn’t flared,” Morgan said. “For once in my life I just want to finish what I’ve started…and tonight, my friend, I have started to teach you how to play chess.”

  Odelia watched her with what looked like amused fascination as Morgan said, “Neither of us will part with our chairs until you can play this game.” Morgan moved her queen three spaces to the right.

  “Aye, the reason for your sudden ire ‘tis clearer than frosted glass, my lady. Check,” Odelia said as she slid her queen across the board.

  Morgan opened her mouth, ready to tell Odelia that she couldn’t possibly have put her into “check” when she noticed that Odelia had actually won the game.

  “I do believe I am growing suddenly fond of this game,” Odelia said.

  “I’m tired,” Morgan said, “I think I’ll go to bed now.”

  “You can do no such thing. That woman will think she has won the game if you do.”

  “Fine. I’m tired of games. Besides, Derek seems to want the woman. Who wouldn’t? Look at her.”

  They both glanced Leonie’s way. The woman was dressed like royalty in an emerald green silk gown with gold brocade. Her thick hair braided loosely, hung down the front of her like black silk against an ivory throat and across breasts that defied gravity by not spilling forth.

  “I appreciate your staying with me, Odelia, but I can’t do this. I won’t leave the castle again though, I promise. I’ll be in my room.” Morgan stood and turned to leave. Unfortunately there was no way to get to the stairs without passing the happy group.

  The striking richness of Derek’s voice filled the room as she headed that way. Her heart beat fast against her chest and her palms grew moist. She felt bruised and tired, not to mention plain and ugly in comparison to Derek’s girlfriend, whose gaze burned right through her as she maneuvered around them.

  Derek stood as she tried to pass, blocking her path. She could smell his earthy scent as he took her hand and urged her to sit in a padded chair that Hugo pulled forward. She tried to get Odelia to join them, but Odelia pleaded exhaustion and walked off.

  “‘Tis good to see you up and well,” Derek said as he waited for her to take a seat before he took a seat next to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling completely out of place.

  Derek plucked Leonie’s hand from his knee and returned it to Leonie’s lap. Morgan caught the gesture but didn’t think much of it, for Leonie looked just as happy to play with his hair.

  “My lord, your hair has grown since I saw you last.” Leonie twirled her long, perfect fingers in his wavy locks, adding in a honeyed voice, “Was it less than a sennight when I saw you last, my lord?”

  Morgan knew that a sennight was equal to one week. That meant Derek had been with Leonie the same night he’d barged into her room like a drunken sailor and carried her from the tub. No wonder he’d left so abruptly. After being with Leonie, he probably thought he was deranged for seeking her out at all.

  “His hair has grown overly long. Do you not agree, my lady?” Leonie asked Morgan.

  A mischievous grin curved Derek’s mouth. “My betrothed is well aware of how my hair has grown. Is that not so, my love?”

  Morgan managed a small, confused nod. He was doing it again.

  Shayna released a small chuckle.

  Leonie wouldn’t let it go. She was like the Energizer Bunny, Morgan decided. She just kept on going…and going and going.

  Leonie leaned toward Morgan and said, “Never mind his lordship’s fine locks. Such a terrible ordeal you have been through.” She gave a tsk, tsk before adding, “But only a fool, I dare say, would go out unescorted and follow a strange old man through the forest.” Leonie put her hands over her lips, feigning a mere slip of the tongue. “Pardon me, I did not mean to imply that you were a fool, I only meant…”

  “We know what you meant,” Hugo said wearily. “Triston,” Hugo called to the jongleur. “Sing for us whilst we eat. I believe I heard the horn long ago.” Hugo stood, motioning for the visiting minstrel to follow as everyone made their way to the dining tables.

  An hour later, Morgan poked at her roasted mutton as she listened half-heartedly to the small talk during dinner. Emmon had situated himself between Leonie and Derek. She knew Emmon didn’t like her, but at least he didn’t appear to like Leonie any better.

  Although preoccupied with catching Emmon’s attention, Shayna sat across from Morgan and every once in a while presented her a subtle look of sympathy. More than once, Morgan caught Derek looking at her. A fierce gentleness beamed from his dark eyes, as if he were caressing her without using his hands. A shiver raced up her arms as she wondered what went through the man’s head. Why did he keep looking her way? Obviously he enjoyed Leonie’s company or he would have alread
y sent her away.

  Leonie, Morgan noticed, watched her like a hawk. Whenever Morgan glanced her way, Leonie nearly pushed Emmon off the bench so she could talk to Derek or touch his forearm with her long pale fingers. When the meal was finally over, the men gathered near the fire, while the women listened to the minstrel’s songs. When she saw that both Derek and Leonie were missing from the room, she said her goodnights and quickly excused herself. She hurried up the stairs glad to see the halls were empty as she rushed toward her room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the cool hard planks and let out a long, weary sigh.

  “What took you so long?” a deep voice asked from the shadowy corners of her room.

  CHAPTER 9

  Morgan squinted in an attempt to make out the dark figure across the room. Derek. He appeared only as a large shadowy figure where he sat within a cushioned chair. “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “I wanted to be sure you were staying in for the night and not roaming the countryside.”

  She breathed easier, glad to know he wasn’t wrapped in Leonie’s arms as she’d envisioned. He was here in her room and she couldn’t help but wonder why. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I would have thanked you earlier but I knew you were busy with your guest.”

  He stood so fast he startled her, walking toward her with the smooth grace of a large cat. He took a firm hold of her shoulders and said, “I want to know why you left Braddock yester eve? Who were you looking for?”

  Morgan peered into stormy black eyes. “I left because I was confused…confused about my feelings for you.”

  “I demand the truth.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.” She tried to hide the excited rush of nervous twinges she felt at having him so close. He smelled of fresh linen. His loose shirt gaped open, revealing a soft feathering of black curly hair.

  She took in a breath and added, “I left because I can’t take anymore of this tension between us. Since the day we met we’ve been at odds with one another. Fate has thrown us together and I have no idea why.”

  “I think I do.” He played with a lock of her hair, letting it slide between his fingers.

  “There is so much for us to understand before we could ever really begin to know each other,” she said. “And I want to know you, Derek. About your childhood and the circumstances that have made you who you are.”

  He tensed. “There is nothing from my childhood worth knowing about.”

  “A childhood makes people who they are. And I want to know who you are. I find myself yearning to know what’s on your mind. I often wonder how you feel about…about me.”

  His mouth took in her next breath, and the low growl he emitted when his tongue parted her lips made her feel weak in the knees. The wonderful taste of him engulfed her, making her dizzy, until she forgot all her questions and remembered only Leonie. She pulled away. “Why are you kissing me instead of that Leonie woman who has been glued to you for days?”

  He gave her an innocent, if not ingenuous, look. “For some ludicrous, illogical reason I desire only your lips upon my own.”

  “The truth,” Morgan demanded, as he had earlier.

  “Unfortunately, it is the truth I speak. For as hard as I try to expunge you from my mind,” he rubbed his thumb across her cheek, “I cannot do so.” He put his thumb to her chin and tilted her head upward. “It matters not whether I have before me a flock of kitchen wenches or a lady of great beauty…’tis you who haunts my every thought.”

  “Are you implying that I’m not a lady of great beauty?”

  He smiled softly before he kissed the tip of her nose and then her lips. He lifted his palms from her face and ran his fingers through her hair. “You are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  A warm tingling surged through her. Although she didn’t usually go about asking for compliments, she hung on to his every word.

  “As for Leonie,” he said, still peering into her eyes, “she is readying to leave as we speak.”

  “Why would she do that? She didn’t look eager to leave.”

  “I asked her to. It is as simple as that.”

  His hand slid down the smooth column of her throat and downward over her shoulders as his mouth nibbled at the sensitive area of her nape. He was doing it again…hypnotizing her with his hands and his lips.

  “Amanda,” he whispered, “when I kiss you…when we make love…you shan’t be thinking of anyone but me.”

  Making love, she repeated in her mind, trying her best not to get overly nervous.

  His warm mouth burned a downward path, stopping to graze upon her ear. Her pulse soared as he whispered a string of endearments. So softly and huskily did he speak that the only words she understood were, “lovely” and “succulent.” His hands slid slowly downward over her waist until his fingers entwined with hers. Then he lifted her hands to his chest, her splayed fingers touching the warm skin revealed within the open vee of his shirt. She trembled at the feel of his hard pectorals as fine curly hairs crept between her fingers. A rotating display of fireworks shot through her. She’d wanted to touch him for so long and now that she was, she could hardly breathe.

  Tremulously, she used her fingertips to make a path across his muscular shoulders. A husky groan escaped him as he removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor.

  Slowly, she explored the hard cords of his neck and the steely hardness of his stomach. His breathing became ragged and a shudder rippled through her as she trailed a finger over his chest.

  His eyes were dark with passion as he untied the laces of her dress. His mouth grazed over her shoulder and he took the cottony fabric of her gown between his teeth, sliding the dress off as he worked his way downward. She felt the cool air through her thin chemise. His hands smoothed over her calves, and then up under the thin fabric, intoxicating her with desire. Her body shuddered.

  Straightening to his full height, he took a handful of silk, and with one practiced jerk of his wrist, removed the undergarment completely. She smiled at his sudden impatience as he threw the garment over his shoulder, letting it fall where it may. He caressed her with his eyes instead of his hands, the effect just as rousing. Her cheeks warmed. The corner of his lips tilted upward right before he picked her up and carried her to the bed, leaving her there while he undressed.

  She watched as he removed his boots and breeches, trying not to blush at seeing him fully naked and fully aroused. It never occurred to her to look away. His eyes burned into hers as he walked to the bed and lowered himself over her. Gazing into her eyes he said, “No turning back now.”

  “Never,” she whispered, intoxicated by his nearness.

  His intense gaze never wavered as his fingers foraged a tortuous path over her collar bone and lower still.

  She shut her eyes, overcome with desire.

  “Tell me your thoughts. What is it you yearn for?” he asked.

  “You,” she said between ragged breaths as he brushed kisses across her throat.

  “No one else?”

  “Only you. Now please stop torturing me!”

  “Stop what?” he asked. “Stop this?”

  He kissed her further, slowly as he touched her soft skin until she nearly wept. And only then did he stretch his body over hers until she felt the hardness of him press against her thigh. “Don’t stop,” she whispered as he teased her with his soft kisses. She felt like a woman possessed as she clutched at his back and shoulders, eager for him to put an end to the agonizing cravings within.

  As if struck by lightning, Derek felt a sudden unnatural loss of power over his own body. His blood thickened as he was now driven by a primitive compulsion to have her. He felt a change in her body as her muscles constricted, bracing herself as he entered her and felt the soft wall of resistance.

  She was a virgin.

  He knew not what to think about that, except to remove any obstruct
ion in his way. He did so, with one swift thrust of his hips.

  Morgan drove her nails into his back as her body tightened in pain. She was going to die after all…literally. Not from blissful ecstasy as she had first envisioned, but from dreadful, tortuous pain. Why hadn’t anyone told her it was like dying? Being stabbed in the gut with a sword and then dying?

  He must have sensed her worry or probably knew from experience because his voice was tender when he said, “Try not to move.” He held her down with the weight of his body as she wriggled beneath him.

  “Please get off me, you’re killing me. I’ve changed my…” Her voice trailed off as he began feathering her neck and shoulders with light kisses.

  Although Derek’s body screamed for release, he restrained himself, something he never did with any woman, uncaring as to whether they received pleasure or not.

  Insanity drove this sudden need to pleasure her as she pleasured him. Every muscle was strained and tense in order to keep from finding his gratification too soon. His jaw clenched tight as he fought against the exquisite feel of being inside of her. If he did not move soon it would be too late.

  Her eyes were clamped tight, but he felt her body relax as the pain slowly diminished. She moved her legs as she became more receptive to him, obviously expecting more pain. “Trust me,” he whispered. He felt her shiver. She dared to relax one muscle at a time until her hips slowly rotated, her movements instinctive now as he sank deeper.

  He had planned to take it slow, but that was impossible. The feel of her wrapped around him was too much to bear, overwhelming him, taking over his senses as the unleashed fervor between them caused his pace to quicken. She moved her hips in unison with his until the splendid torture was brought to a rapturous end for them both. Her body shuddered before every limb relaxed beneath him.

  They stayed close, basking in a moment of tranquility, neither speaking. Derek rolled off of her so that he lay on his back with one knee bent upward. She moved her head to settle within the crook of his arm. He brushed hair from her cheek. He’d been caught, he realized. He’d been tangled in the spider’s web so superbly weaved. A sad, indistinguishable pain swept over him.