“I love to play games; I'm rather good at them.”
She leaned forward, providing him with a delicious display of breasts, and said intimately, “Tina says that between a man and a woman it is always a game.” Raven made a little moue with her lips. “Unfortunately, I don't know many games, but I would love it if you would teach me how to play.”
Heath's control slipped a notch as his fingers reached out to touch a tantalizing nipple. He caught himself and instead tucked a curl behind her ear and suggested, “Cards. In that drawer you will find tarot cards … we can play fortune-teller.”
Amazed at his control, yet filled with curiosity about the cards, Raven slid from the bed to seek the fascinating pasteboards.
His avid eyes followed every movement she made. The lovely curves of her body were visible through the transparent material, and he marveled that the garment revealed far more than it concealed. Beneath the covers, his own body responded; his shaft lengthened and thickened and he felt his balls tighten pleasurably.
She climbed back on the bed and held out the tarot cards.
“You have the Celtic power of mystic divination, Raven. Tell my future. Lay out the cards and let me hear your interpretation.”
She turned over the first card, which was the Knight of Wands, and the corners of her lips lifted in a mischievous smile. “This man looks very much like you. He is galloping at full speed. Is he aggressive, reckless, and brave enough to take what he wants?” She waited for him to snatch her up into his arms, but when he did not, she continued, “No, I see now that it is not you. It is Sir Galahad, filled with romantic chivalry rather than manliness.”
She turned over another card, which was the Two of Cups. “Ah, here are a young man and woman, drinking a toast, pledging themselves to each other. He is asking her a question, and clearly her answer is yes,” Raven hinted outrageously. “Could this couple be us? Do you wish to ask me a question?”
Heath shook his head. “I can't think of one. Do you wish to ask me a question?”
The minute he said it, Raven knew what Heath was up to. And it dawned on her that they truly were deep in a game—a male-female game that lovers had played since the dawn of time. The next card was the Empress. “Ah, here is a beautiful woman with a heart-shaped shield, bearing the sign of Venus! This woman is very close to you.” She stroked his hard thigh through the cover. “Her gown is covered with symbols of fertility; she will give her husband many strong sons. She represents heaven on earth to the man bold enough to scale her walls and breach her defenses. She longs for a powerful male who will force her to yield all her earthly treasures and pleasures.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Poor lady, I can feel how she aches.”
Heath felt his cock buck beneath the sheet, and the muscle in his jaw looked like a lump of iron.
Raven pretended she did not notice, and turned over another card. It was the King of Swords. “Now, this dark-complexioned man truly resembles you. Clearly he has been a lone wolf all his life and has had to fight for everything he has ever achieved. But now he is lonely; now he is seeking a mate. I wonder if this is you?” she puzzled. “He has a huge, erect sword and wields his weapon like a warrior.” She pulled the covers down below his hips. “It is you! 'Twas the unsheathed, upraised sword that gave you away!”
Heath growled in his throat and reached for her, but she held up an imperious hand to stay him. “Wait, I must be sure! I shall investigate thoroughly, explore all the ins and outs, and see if it measures up to intense scrutiny.” She closed her fingers around his shaft and drew down the foreskin to expose the head of his cock. “It certainly looks like the King of Swords.” Then, using both hands, she captured it and rolled it between her palms. “It certainly feels like the King of Swords.” She looked into his eyes and deliberately licked her lips. “I shall see if it tastes like the King of Swords; the proof of the pudding is in the eating.”
As Raven bent and dropped a kiss on the velvet head of his phallus, Heath almost came out of his skin. Enthralled, he watched the tip of her tongue delicately trace a circle around the heart-shaped head. She repeated the torture three times, then sucked the whole thing into her mouth like a ripe plum. Then she proceeded with all the ins and outs as she had promised, and her glorious hair cascaded in a black waterfall, pooling across his loins.
Heath's head went back until the cords in his neck stood out like cables, and he arched his hips as the scalding heat of her mouth made him writhe and gasp with savage need. The rough friction of her tongue made him quiver and groan, and he felt his blood pulsing through his veins and pounding in his temples and the soles of his feet. “Raven, stop,” he ordered. “I will spend!”
When she paid him not the slightest heed, he came up from the bed and cupped her cheeks in the palms of his hands and gently lifted her mouth from him. Then his hands slipped down her body until they grasped her waist, and he slid her up until her lips touched his, and he tasted himself on her mouth. Reeling from the passion she had aroused, he rolled with her until he straddled her, then he plunged down until his weapon was seated to the hilt. The brush of her thighs felt like silk as he thrust between them, and her hot, wet core branded him as nothing else had. It was primal and shocking as heat leaped between them. The loving was rough and uninhibited and splendidly frenzied as they slaked their sexual hunger. When her liquid tremors caused his white-hot seed to erupt, he was sheathed so deeply that they merged and became one.
Heath did not withdraw but stayed within her so he could feel every surging wave and pulsing tremor of the firestorm that their mating had unleashed. As he held her softening breasts and felt her lips against his throat, he heard her whisper, “You are indeed my King of Swords.”
CHAPTER 30
Raven took great delight in watching Heath shoe one of his mares. She focused on his hands, marveling at their strength and their gentleness. She had never known anyone before who was so attuned to the animals he cared for. It was evident that horses were Heath's passion, and that they loved him in return.
When Gavin with the Douglas moss-troopers came thundering into Eskdale's bailey, Heath went to the stables to talk with him and to help tend the horses. Raven followed him with trepidation. She dreaded the moment when Gavin and the rest of the Douglas men learned that she had helped Queen Margaret to escape to England. They were Scots, she English, and she feared they would resent her now and forever.
“I have a message for ye from Ram,” Gavin told Heath. “As soon as he finishes his business in Edinburgh, he is headin' directly tae Castle Douglas. He vows Valentina will flay him alive if he doesn't get back so the twins can be christened.” Gavin grinned as he glanced at Raven, then back to Heath. “Never thought I'd see the day when a Borderer would let a woman put him in leading strings.” He winked. “Have a care, it could be contagious.”
Heath grinned back. “No fear of that happening to a Kennedy.” As he removed the saddle from Gavin's mount, the expression on his face became serious. “After being in Newark and witnessing Archibald Douglas's cowardly performance, I decided to let Margaret conveniently escape to England. It effectively separates her from young King Jamie and puts an end to the influence that Henry Tudor would have over the King of Scotland.”
“A wise decision,” Gavin said with a straight face, before he glanced pointedly at Raven and began to grin. “Nothin' on earth gives as much trouble as a female in captivity … especially an English female!”
When Raven heard Heath take the blame and full responsibility for what she had done, a lump came into her throat and her eyes shone with unshed tears. Here was a real man, with his own unshakable code of honor. There was no sacrifice he would not make for those he cared about. She loved him with all her heart and soul, but what made her happier than any woman alive was the knowledge that he loved her. She felt amazingly blessed.
Raven slipped from the stables and returned to the castle. She climbed the stairs to Heath's tower rooms and bathed the tears from her e
yes. She knew that Heath's towering pride was a result of all the hurt and rejection that had been heaped upon him since childhood. Yet she too had rejected him, not once but twice. She was certain that he would not ask her again to marry him, because he couldn't survive the pain if she rejected him. She knew he would not take the risk. She opened the wardrobe and chose his favorite dress. It was the pale green gown she had been wearing on the night that changed her life … the night when he had first made love to her. Raven then lit every candle she could find and placed them on the hearth and the mantel of the fireplace.
When Heath entered the tower, he wondered where Raven had disappeared to. He stopped on the threshold of the inner chamber and stared in wonder. Surrounded by lit candles, Raven had never looked more beautiful. Her face was luminous, and her bright lavender aura was a startling contrast against her black silken curls. He saw her eyes light up at the sight of him, and could not quite believe his own good fortune.
He watched entranced as Raven gracefully knelt before him.
“Heath Kennedy, on bended knee I am asking you to marry me.”
He snatched her into his arms. “Raven, my own love, never kneel to me again! Blood of God, I am such a prideful swine that I have forced you to do this thing.” He looked down at her lovely face in awe and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek with reverence. “Do you mean it, Raven? Will you really marry me?”
“I mean it with all my heart. I love you, Heath!”
He took possession of her hands, and his face became hard with the intensity of his emotions. “Consider carefully, Raven. All I own in this world are a dozen breeding mares. I have nothing to give you.”
“Heath, you have everything to give me; your love is more precious than rubies!”
“Be absolutely certain, Raven. … I have Gypsy blood.”
Her head fell back as she began to laugh and sing:
“Oh, what care I for my goose-feather bed,
with the sheets turned down so bravely-o?
Tonight I will sleep in a wide open field,
Along with the raggle-taggle Gypsies-o!”
“Will you marry me now, today?” he demanded.
“I will. Fetch the priest!”
“Nay, when I come back you might be gone. We'll ride up to the little church at Kirkstile. Come on.” He clung possessively to her hand as if he feared she would vanish if he let go of her.
In the stables, he stopped before the white mare. “I want to give her to you for a wedding present; I want her foal to be yours too. Would you like to ride her? Exercise won't hurt her.”
Raven stroked the mare's nose. “She's the loveliest gift I've ever received.” She reached up and kissed him. “I thank you with all my heart, but I have no gift for you.”
Heath covered her mouth with his in a kiss that was deliberately seductive. “I'll think of something,” he murmured against her lips.
“I'll bet you will, you devil. Better saddle Sully, for I intend to race you!”
It was a dead heat to the church in Kirkstile. They tethered their mounts before the small stone building and went inside together. The priest, who was polishing the candlesticks from the altar, turned and immediately recognized the couple.
“Will you marry us, Father?” Heath asked respectfully.
“Is this another forced weddin'?” The square-built man of God bent his stern gaze upon them.
“It is,” Raven asserted. “This time I've done the wooing, and I've done the proposing! It is high time that Heath Kennedy made an honest woman of me.”
Heath looked at the priest and shrugged helplessly. “She refuses to take no for an answer!”
The priest fetched his housekeeper from his living quarters to act as witness, and beckoned the couple to the altar. He charged them both, “Matrimony is not tae be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, an' in the fear of God!” He stared hard at both of them, then proceeded with the solemnization of matrimony.
This time the bride did not hesitate to plight her troth. “I, Raven Carleton, take thee, Heath Kennedy, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.”
Heath saw Raven's surprised delight when he produced the wedding ring he'd had for a long time. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honor, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” He saw that her look was rapt; she saw no irony in his words.
The priest concluded, “Forasmuch as Heath an' Raven have consented taegether in holy wedlock, I pronounce that they be man and wife. May almighty God pour upon ye the riches of his grace, sanctify an' bless ye, that ye may please him both in body an' soul, an' live taegether in holy love unto yer lives' end. Amen.”
Outside the church, Heath gave a great whoop of joy and lifted Raven for his kiss before he sat her in the saddle. Without another word, both knew the race was on! They galloped together over the dales toward Eskdale. As they came to the River Esk, Heath suddenly shouted, “Raven, look!”
She lifted her face to the sky and saw a pair of hunting birds circling high amid the afternoon clouds. The newly-weds drew rein, the race forgotten. “Could it possibly be?”
The raptors circled lower and Raven's trained eye saw that they were peregrine falcons. “Oh, it is! It's Sultan and Sheba; I can't believe it!”
The hawks had seen the riders, and the female perched atop a tall fir tree while the male swooped down to investigate. Raven began to laugh with sheer happiness as Sultan dived and plunged about them, and Sheba spread her wings and bobbed her head in excited recognition. “Perhaps this is a wedding gift from the Goddess of the Hunt, a mystic sign that our union is blessed and right!” Raven said with wonder.
Heath saw the radiance on her face and knew that Raven was his gift from the gods. “I can fashion you a lure,” he offered.
“Oh no, I cannot take them back into captivity. I want them to be wild and free, and together in love unto their lives' end … like us,” she added.
Heath dismounted and lifted Raven down into his arms. “That's exactly how I feel. Sweetheart, I have a confession to make. It isn't exactly the truth that all I own are my breeding mares.”
She gazed up at him trustingly, ready to hear his secrets.
“Archibald Douglas, the late Earl of Angus, bequeathed me a hundred acres of land in his will.”
“Why would he do that?”
“ 'Tis rumored that my mother, Lily Rose, was his love child. I haven't seen the land yet, but it lies beyond the River Dee in Kirkcudbright and runs parallel with land that belongs to Castle Douglas.”
“How wonderful!” Raven saw the longing on his face as he spoke of the land. “Why don't we take your mares to graze on your own land? We can visit your sister Tina, and may even get there in time for the twins' christening!”
“That's what I planned to do before you came back to Eskdale; that's why I've been shoeing the mares. If you'd arrived a day later, I could so easily have been gone.”
“See? It was preordained; we were meant to be together. My grandmother wanted a Borderer for me.” Raven smiled her secret smile. “I shall tell you tonight what happened when she initiated me into the Craft.”
“I always suspected that you bewitched me. Tell me now.” Heath pulled her down into the long grass to lie beside him.
“Alas, I cannot. It must be on the stroke of midnight,” she teased. They shaded their eyes watching Sultan and Sheba until they disappeared. “Can we leave tomorrow?”
“We can if you are willing, love. It's a long trek, and herding horses can be slow work. Will you mind sleeping outdoors?”
The corners of her mouth went up. “I love nature. It will be most romantic to lie beneath the stars.”
“Are you sure you won't find the ground too hard?”
“I'm not sure … perhaps we'd better try it
and find out.” They turned to each other and made love in nature's perfect setting.
The next day, Heath and Raven joined Gavin and the moss-troopers in the hall for breakfast and broke the news that they had been married yesterday.
“Why the devil didn't ye say somethin' last night? We couldha' celebrated till dawn!”
“That's exactly why we kept it secret. We're leaving today; taking the mares to my land on the River Dee. It was our last opportunity to sleep in a real bed for a while.”
“And did ye sleep?” Gavin asked with a straight face.
“On and off,” Heath replied solemnly.
Raven hid her blushes and bade them all goodbye. She had grown to love Eskdale; she had been happier here than anywhere else. She had a moment's misgiving about what lay ahead, but it melted away as she acknowledged that it wasn't Eskdale that had made her happy, it was Heath Kennedy.
The journey west was a leisurely one. Heath and Raven rode side by side, allowing the mares to set their own pace. It took them two days before they crossed the River Annan and another day to reach Dumfries. Heath was more than satisfied that they were able to cover eight miles a day, and the relaxed pace gave the newlyweds time to talk and learn things about each other. Whenever they found a stream where the horses could be watered, they bathed and swam together, laughing and playing like children. Heath suspected that they would never be able to be this carefree again, and knew for a certainty that in the future they would never be alone together this long.
Raven reveled in her newfound freedom. She marveled at Heath's ability to feed and shelter them. He was expert at snaring small game, catching fish, keeping them dry in rainstorms, and gathering bracken and fir boughs to make them a cozy bed. He taught her some of his secrets about horse handling, and she was delighted that sometimes the mares followed her and nudged her affectionately as they did Heath.
The Border Hostage Page 34