She gazed wistfully at the mare. “I like Viane. I wouldn’t steal this beauty from her.”
“You can’t steal what has never been given.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re really giving her to me?” Tess’s cheeks flushed with excitement as she ran a caressing hand over Pavda’s muzzle. “She’s going to be mine?”
“Wasn’t that part of our bargain?”
“Yes, but my father—” She stopped. “I keep forgetting you don’t like being compared to him.” She made an impatient gesture. “You know as well as I that not many men keep honor with women.”
“That’s because we feel helpless before some of their weapons.”
“Nonsense, it’s the men who hold all the power in the world.” She spoke absently, her gaze on Pavda. “She’s mine? You won’t take her back?”
“She is yours.” He added softly, “And you won’t have to fight for her affection. She’s had no mistress but you, nor will she ever.”
Warmth rippled through her. “Mine,” she murmured. “May I ride her now?”
“Not now. Tomorrow is soon enough.”
“But I want to—”
“Tomorrow,” Galen said firmly. “I have things to do for the next few hours and have no time for lessons.”
“Lessons?” she asked indignantly. “I ride very well. Better than most men.”
“Sidesaddle.” He took her arm and pushed her gently toward the door of the stable. “From now on you ride astride.”
She gazed at him, shocked. “Like a man?”
“My mother was killed riding sidesaddle. A horse fell and crushed her,” Galen said grimly. “I’ll not have you mounted on one of those death traps any longer than I can help it.” He chuckled as he saw her expression. “Why do you look at me like that? I would have thought you’d like the freedom.”
“I never—I was always told that a woman must ride—” Her eyes began to sparkle as she began to consider the possibilities. “I never thought it possible.”
“Many things are possible in Zalandan that aren’t possible in the rest of the world.” He smiled faintly into her radiant face. “You just have to cast off the old ways of thinking.”
“Yet you cling to some of the old ways.”
“Choice.” He didn’t look at her. “Simply because a possibility exists doesn’t mean we have to act on it.”
“But you gave me no choice in what manner I’m to ride.”
“That was different.”
“A man’s answer. No logic.” Tess smiled joyously. “But since you’ve given me Pavda, I forgive you everything.”
“I thank you.” He bowed slightly. “Then I hope your indulgence will extend to accepting my guidance in choosing your wardrobe. The fabric vendor and the tailor will be in your chamber at two this afternoon.”
“Oh that.” She frowned. “I’d much rather go back to the stable and get better acquainted with Pavda.”
“Indulge me,” he said again.
She shrugged. “Oh, very well. I guess I do need something in which to ride. This habit is suitable only for sidesaddle.”
He turned away, but not before she saw the faintest smile touch his lips. “Yes, riding is of the utmost importance.”
* * *
After she left the stable, Tess immediately went back to the palace to seek out Viane, whose quarters were much like her own. There was one exception. Viane’s terrace held a huge aviary with white lattice stone walls and occupied by trees, shrubbery, and a multitude of birds of varying types and hues.
The gate of the aviary was slightly ajar, but Tess stopped just outside. “Viane!”
“Come in, Tess,” Viane called from within. “I’m feeding the birds.”
“I’ll wait.” Tess peered warily through the lattice at a huge parrot balanced on Viane’s slender arm. “You like birds?”
“Oh yes.” Viane lifted her arm and the parrot flew up onto a branch in the tree next to her. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Very nice.”
Viane looked at Tess in surprise as she moved toward the lattice door. “You’re afraid?”
“No such thing.”
Viane gazed at her in wonder. “Yet you told me you loved horses. How can you be afraid of these gentle creatures when you have no fear of those huge monsters?”
“Horses don’t scatter their bounty from above with a singular lack of discrimination.”
Viane burst out laughing. “True, but I’d still rather watch one in flight than be on the back of a fierce stallion.”
Tess braced herself and said in a rush, “Galen gave me Pavda. I thought you should know.”
“Why?” Viane raised her brows. “I have no interest in riding her.”
Tess frowned in puzzlement. “That’s what Galen said, but I couldn’t believe it.”
Viane studied Tess’s bewildered expression before smiling gently. “You must understand. I’m not like you, either in nature or upbringing. I’m not bold, and I have no desire to go beyond my limits.”
“How do you know what your limits are, if you don’t try to go beyond them?”
“Why, I don’t—” Viane started to laugh. “You see, we’re not at all alike.” She closed the aviary door and moved gracefully across the terrace. “You left the palace very early. Let me order tea for you.”
“How did you know that?”
Viane flushed guiltily. “You must not think I’m spying on you. Since my mother died, the servants have looked to me to oversee the running of the palace, and Galen has made no objection.” She continued hurriedly, “But since you are now the majira, perhaps you—”
“Me?” Tess looked at her blankly. “You jest. Good heavens no! I intend to spend more time at the stable than the palace while I’m in Zalandan.”
“While you’re in Zalandan?” Viane gazed at her in confusion. “What do you—”
“Are those pigeons?”
Viane nodded.
“The Count owned pigeons. He trained them to carry messages to his cousin in Paris. It was most interesting.”
“Carry messages?”
Tess nodded. “The Count said pigeons have been used to carry messages since the twelfth century before the birth of Christ, sometimes for distances of hundreds, even thousands, of miles.” She whirled to face Viane, her face alight with eagerness. “I know, we will train our own pigeons.”
Viane frowned. “I do not think—”
“Of course we will,” Tess interrupted, her eyes sparkling. “Why not? It’s a splendid idea. You’ll teach me about birds, and I’ll teach you about horses.” She linked her hands behind her back as she began to stride back and forth across the terrace. “I learned a little from the Count. It seems the instinct is there in most pigeons, and one must only give them the opportunity. If the Count could manage it, I’m sure we can do even better, for he was not at all clever. By the time I leave Zalandan, I’ll know all I need to know about—”
“Leave here? Why should you leave here? This is your husband’s home.”
Tess hadn’t meant to let her enthusiasm run away with her. “That doesn’t mean I must stay here forever. It’s not that kind of marriage.”
“There is only one kind of marriage. You must not think these thoughts.” Viane added flatly, “Galen will not let you leave him.”
“You will see.” Tess paused in midstride and turned to face her. “I understand you are to marry yourself next summer.”
“Yes.” A soft flush dyed her cheeks as she glanced back at the pigeons, now on a low branch of a pepper tree. “It was arranged by my mother. Kalim is a good man, and very kind to me.”
“And you are content?”
“As much as I can be,” Viane said haltingly. “I think some women are not meant for marriage. I feel very shy when I think of Kalim.”
“Then don’t think of him,” Tess said. “Who knows what will come before next summer?” She grinned. “In the meantime we’ll have a perfectly wonderful time training your pi
geons. Do they have names?”
“Alexander the Great and Roxanne.”
Tess laughed. “You see? Alexander the Great was a prodigious traveler. You must have somehow known what his destiny would be.”
Viane smiled ruefully. “I assure you that in my wildest moments I had no idea I would ever use my pigeons to carry messages.”
“But won’t it be exciting?”
Viane’s gentle smile widened, her gaze on Tess’s luminous face. “Yes, I believe it will prove very exciting, Tess.”
Chapter 5
“You choose. I don’t care,” Tess said impatiently. She gazed without interest at the bolts of shimmering fabrics spread on every chair, table, and divan in her chamber. “I’m weary of looking at all this.”
“You tire easily.” Galen leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs before him, crossing his booted feet at the ankle. “You’ve scarcely glanced at the fabrics.”
“It doesn’t matter. This is taking too long.” She looked anxiously at the setting sun. “I thought I’d have time to take an apple to Pavda before supper.”
“The midnight-blue brocade is exceptional, Majira,” the bearded fabric merchant said coaxingly.
She cast an indifferent glance at the shimmering fabric unfurled on the floor. “Yes, it’s very nice.” She turned to Galen. “Did I tell you about the pigeons?”
“Twice,” he said solemnly.
“Nice?” the vendor murmured faintly. “The brocade was brought from China, and the pearl embroidery took seven months to complete.”
“Very nice,” Tess said impatiently. “I have no quarrel with your goods.”
“She’ll take the brocade.” Galen stood up. “And the green chiffon and the gold.” He strolled around the room, selecting and rejecting fabrics with brisk efficiency. “You have the majira’s measurements and my wishes as to the fashioning of the gowns. I’ll expect the first to be ready for fittings by next week.”
“Certainly, Majiron,” The little man appeared relieved. He snapped his fingers, and his young assistant began to gather up the bolts. “And the garments for which you previously gave me instructions will be delivered by eight tomorrow morning.”
Tess turned to look at Galen. “What garments are those?”
“Your riding habit, among others.” Galen waved the merchant and his assistant from the room and sat down again. His lips quirked as he saw Tess’s expression of enthusiasm. “Ah, I’ve fired your interest.”
“How. is it to be fashioned? Will I wear trousers?”
“Of a sort.” He grimaced. “However, I have no desire to see you garbed as a man. The garment resembles a divided gown.”
“Velvet?”
“For this climate? I ordered it made of the same material as my robes.”
Tess smiled with satisfaction as she remembered its texture. “How pleasant.”
“That was my intention.” He smiled slowly. “To bring you comfort and pleasure. Of course, you will wear nothing beneath any of the garments.”
“No?” She frowned. “I’m not sure I’ll like that. Pauline says it’s rumored Empress Josephine wears nothing under her gowns, but I always thought it must be rather drafty.”
His lips twitched. “Sedikhan’s climate is much warmer than France’s.”
That argument appeared reasonable to Tess. “I suppose we’ll have to see.”
He looked at her for a moment before he nodded briskly. “Quite right. Why don’t we?”
“What?”
“You said we must see.” He untied the black sash around his waist and took it off. “Why not do it now, before the garment is finished? Take off your habit.”
His sudden change from amusement to sensuality caught her off guard. “Now?”
“Right now.” He held the sash loosely, running his left hand slowly down its length. “After all, we have nothing better to do.”
She stared in fascination at his hands on the sash, at his beautiful fingers, strong, graceful, moving with lazy sensuality among the folds of the sable material. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched his index finger lazily delve into a pleat and begin rubbing back and forth.
“And you don’t have time to go see Pavda before supper.”
She jerked her gaze from his hands, discovering with amazement that she had forgotten all about Pavda.
“You cannot seem to make up your mind whether you wish me clothed or unclothed,” she said tartly. “It’s most disconcerting.”
“Perhaps it’s my intention to disconcert you.”
She drew a deep shaky breath and slowly began unbuttoning her habit. “I realize what you’re doing, you know.”
“Indeed?”
She nodded as the habit dropped to the floor. “You’re trying to train me as you did Apollo and Daphne.” She scowled at him. “And I’m obeying you because I must honor our bargain. But I’m not an animal, and I have no liking for this.”
“Yet I believe you’ll come to like it.” He smiled. “When you realize that no matter how many demands I make, you’re in control.”
“You said something like that before.” She stepped out of her petticoat. “I don’t agree.”
“And if you search your heart, I think you’ll find another reason you’re willing to accommodate me.”
“What is that?”
“Curiosity. It’s entirely in character for a woman who is so vibrantly alive to want to taste every facet of life.” His gaze wandered over her. “By the way, you have superb breasts. Small, but quite perfect.”
A hot flush seared through her as she saw the blatant sensuality of his expression. She cleared her throat, but the words still came out in a croak. “Are you done with dithering then?”
He smiled. “That’s another thing we’ll have to see. Anticipation certainly lends the situation a certain ‘heat,’ doesn’t it?”
She caught the slight emphasis on the word as the last of her undergarments dropped to the floor. “I told you I was no bitch like Daphne.”
“If you were, you wouldn’t be standing there. You’d be on hands and knees, and I’d be moving in and out of you.” He smiled crookedly as he saw her shocked expression. “I’m being most restrained … for me.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Heat,” he said thickly. “I want you to come to me because you’re hurting too much to do anything else.”
She felt the muscles of her stomach clench and a liquid tingling begin between her thighs. “You’d better just do it. It might not ever happen. I’m not like Pauline.”
“Nor would I want you to be. Come here.”
She hesitated, took a deep breath, and then marched across the floor to his chair and stopped before him. “I’m here.”
“Yes.” He didn’t move; he just sat, his gaze on her breasts as they rose and fell with the increasing tempo of her breathing.
“What next?”
“Why, don’t you remember? We’re going to see if the material is going to be comfortable for you.” He shook out the black sash and draped it around her and across her breasts. The silky fabric was a cool caress on her flesh. “Does this feel pleasant?”
“Yes.”
He let the sash fall beneath her bosom, and with the twist of his wrist tightened it, throwing her breasts into prominence. “And this?”
Her breasts were swelling, her nipples hardening to an aching distension. “Not … unpleasant.”
He kept her lifted, swollen, offering, for another moment before releasing the knot and pulling the silky black sash from her body with an excruciatingly slow movement.
It made no difference. Her breasts remained enlarged, taut, and aching.
“Is … that all?” she asked unsteadily.
“Not quite.” His eyes were glittering, his cheeks flushed as he slowly rose to his feet. “There’s another place that must be tested.” She inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed her inner thigh. “You’ll be riding astride.…”
His arm went aro
und her waist, catching the other end of the sash as he thrust it between her thighs.
She gasped, her gaze flying to his face. “What—”
“Sometimes the rhythm will be soft and smooth.” He moved the black sash gently and slowly back and forth, letting her feel the soft folds of the fabric like a sensual whisper against that most sensitive part of her. “But since your nature is not of the tamest, more often it will be hard and fast.” He lifted the material, jerking the sash in a stronger, firmer seesaw movement.
She cried out, her spine arching as waves of sensation spiraled through her. She could tell he was being careful not to hurt her, but the silky friction caused an erotic shock. She reached out blindly to clutch Galen’s shoulders as the sash moved back and forth, tingling, teasing her softness. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She was dying, in a fever, swelling, starving.…
“Galen!” Her teeth sank into her lower lip as the force of the movement between her thighs strengthened, accelerated. “It’s too—”
The sash was gone, whipped away, and instead his hard hand was cupping her, petting her, stroking her. “It’s all right.” He pushed her gently down on the cushions of the divan. “You had to know.”
What had she to know? she wondered dazedly as she looked up at him. That sensation could send you mad, enslave you, make you want to hold, buck, devour? She gasped. “Why?”
He dropped the black sash beside her on the silk cushion. “Because I want you to remember me every time a fold of material touches your body. I wanted you to remember this.” He smiled grimly. “One of my more possessive and less civilized impulses.” He smiled sensually. “But you will remember, won’t you, Tess?”
How could she help it? She was still throbbing, tingling, her breath coming in gasps. “Yes,” she whispered.
“And when we’re riding and I look at you, you’ll know I’m thinking about what I just did to you.” His breath was coming fast, harsh in the silence of the chamber. “And you’ll remember what it felt like to be in heat.” Color mantled the bronze of his cheeks, and his dark eyes glittered with excitement as he looked down at her. He said hoarsely, “I think we’ll not sup together tonight. I need time to—” He moved toward the door. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard at nine tomorrow morning.”
The Golden Barbarian Page 11