Tina could hear him moving about in the adjoining chamber he used as a dressing and bathing room. She told Ada, “Leave me—he’ll be here any moment.”
She barely had time to touch her pulse with perfume, before he entered without knocking. Tina had not expected him to knock upon his own chamber door, however. Ram wore black, and she thought they must look like actors in a play, costumed for dramatic effect as they delivered their lines in the intimate setting. “How is the bleeding leg of Douglas?” She was ready to match wits with him, and he recognized it as a defensive strategy against him. He regretted that his actions had made her defensive. He had his work cut out for him tonight if he was to make her respond to him physically. “I’ll show ye mine, if ye’ll show me yours.” He hoped his banter would put her at ease.
“Ah, then I take it we are not to have a blackout tonight?”
Her words were provocative, and he was aroused immediately. She knew he had only taken a few hours of sleep, yet all his weariness had vanished. She could clearly see he burned with life. He moved purposefully to the fireplace, threw on a log, and settled it into place with his soft leather boot. Just so would he ruthlessly put his boot to an enemy’s ribs or temple, she thought. He would remove any obstacle in his path without pity. Perhaps he had removed Alexander? She banished the thought instantly. There was no way she could allow this man to make love to her if she dwelled upon him committing murder.
He turned from the fire and bent a look upon her that made her shudder. Tonight his eyes were the pewter of stormy seas. She reminded him of a forest creature. She looked ready to flee the hunter, yet he had no desire to hurt, only to capture and half-tame. “I had hoped ye would wear yer hair down for me.” His voice had a deep, husky quality about it that made her want to shiver, or was it his words?
So her hair held a fascination for him. She would use it to render him mindless “I put it up so you could have the pleasure of taking it down,” she said softly.
It was his turn to shudder. She was fully clothed so he’d also have the pleasure of undressing her. The thought of her delicate undergarments went straight to his groin. He could not take his eyes from her. He drank her in like dry ground in a thunderstorm. “I should get Colin tae paint ye”
She wondered if he had asked Colin to paint Damaris, then pushed the disturbing thought away. As they looked at each other, they knew they were about to step off a precipice together Her blood slowed, and she felt an absolute languor.
Ram was the complete opposite. He almost burned and crackled with life and lust. She was the object of his desire, and he concentrated his total and complete attention upon her. She was compelling He was obsessed. She was incandescent He was consumed. Gently, he took her into his arms, stared down at her mouth until all her composure fled, then lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was a prelude to what would come after. He touched and tasted her softly in a suggestive caress. He was closer than she had dreamed possible Their dark eyelashes brushed together, and their breaths caught and mingled.
A low knock upon the door effectively separated them. Tina was vastly relieved. He had evoked an odd sensation inside her, and she felt almost dizzy. He opened the chamber door somewhat impatiently, and there stood Mr Burque with their dinner. Ramsay bade the Frenchman enter in his own language, and Mr Burque replied in French.
“Un moment,” said Ram, picking up the table he used as a desk and setting it before the fire.
“Merci, seigneur,” murmured the chef, setting down the heavy tray with a bow. “Bon appétit”
“Grâce à vous,” replied Ram, nodding.
As he bent to bow, Mr Burque’s eyelid closed in a definite wink to Tina, and she rewarded him with a ravishing smile.
When Ram closed the door, she said, “I didn’t know you could speak French.”
“Can ye?” he asked.
She shook her head regretfully. “I have learned a few odd words … derrière, lingerie, déshabillé.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Odd words indeed.” He drew two chairs to the table and reached his hand toward a silver cover. “What do we have?”
Tina’s hand slipped beneath his to lift the cover. “Allow me, Lord Douglas.” She presented the dish as a magician presents a rabbit. The aroma was so subtly tantalizing, he could not resist taking a deep breath as she said, “Salmon poached in samphire with white butter sauce.”
His eyes showed his pleasure. He was a man who appreciated fine food, though in his native land he seldom enjoyed anything but plain cooking. There were candied chestnuts and crudités. There was also a game bird stuffed with apples and raisins and garnished with chervil. Mr. Burque had chosen a light chablis for them, and though Ram preferred ale or whisky to wine, he knew the chablis had been chosen to complement the dinner and would be delicious upon the palate.
He held her chair and dropped a kiss upon her silken head, murmuring, “I thought my hunger was for other than food, but I must admit the Frenchman has tempted me.”
“Isn’t that what Eve said to Adam?”
He threw back his head and laughed. She gave him a sidelong glance from beneath her lashes “You don’t laugh often enough.”
“That isn’t because I’m not amused It’s from having learned tae mask my emotions.”
“You have great control,” she said.
“Over some things, yes; others, no.”
“Such as?” she asked, as he had hoped
“Arousal,” he admitted frankly. “I think I have it under control, then the whisper of yer silk gown, or the careless shrug of yer shoulder, or the fireshine on yer hair makes me ache with lust”
She wondered if these things were really true, or if they were the things a man always said to a woman when he wanted to bed her.
He put the last morsel of salmon smothered in its white butter sauce into his mouth and closed his eyes. “This food is absolutely decadent.”
“Mmmmm,” she sighed in ecstasy
“A woman who enjoys food usually takes deep satisfaction from all life’s sensual pleasures.”
She smiled at him. “Since you insist upon educating me, tell me more”
“The lessons would be better learned if I showed ye rather than told ye. Actions speak louder than words.”
“Give me the words as well, or I shall feel deprived.”
“Did ye say depraved, my sweet?”
“No—that’s you, Douglas!”
He was around the table in a flash, lifting her into his lap, unable to keep his hands from her one moment longer “Ye always call me Douglas, never Ram,” he complained
“I care not for the name; I’ll not say it.”
“You shall!” he vowed, lifting the silken waterfall of her hair to kiss the nape of her neck.
“Douglas, we still have dessert!”
“I know,” he said wickedly, slanting a black brow at her
“But only look,” she said lifting a silver cover “He has made us a gâteau d’amour” It was a work of art. The almond-flavored cake was designed in the shape of a shield, its crimson heart was crushed raspberries and its sauce was incomparable burnt caramel crème fraîche. She dipped in her finger and held it to his lips He licked it and murmured, “It is tae die for.” She picked up two spoons and presented one to him He took it, and together they tasted the heavenly creation. It was so rich that two or three tastes satisfied them, and Ram soon forgot the food as another hunger needed satisfying.
Suddenly there were no words to spoil the magic of this moment they shared. His lips had found her face and begun their slow seduction. He kissed her temple and brushed his lips along her eyebrow, then when she lowered her lashes, he very gently kissed her eyelid.
His lips burned her skin as they drifted across her cheekbone, then nibbled at her ear, biting the pink lobe with his sharp white teeth. The tip of his tongue came out, and she drew in her breath as he traced the outline of her lips with it.
His hands lifted her hair, and she thought he would again
kiss her nape. He did—but not before his deft fingers unfastened and removed the pink and silver ruff. His midnight black eyes stared at her mouth a long time before he kissed it, and Tina was almost undone. He made love to her with his eyes as skillfully as he did with his lips. When the kiss finally came, it centered upon her full underlip that had tantalized him and almost driven him crazy whenever he had gazed at it. He took it between his lips to taste and suck and lick as if it were a ripe and succulent cherry.
His experienced fingers soon opened her gown to allow his strong hand to roam at will. Ram was wise enough not to go directly for her sensitive nipple. Instead, he curved his warm fingers about the delicious swell of her breast and cupped it in his palm. Tenderly, he allowed his thumb to stroke the velvet skin, evoking sensations she had never known before.
Slowly, like the rising sun at dawn, she realized what was happening to her. Curled in his lap before the fire with his hand inside her gown and his lips stealing kisses, she was becoming aroused. He took such deep pleasure from doing these things to her that she felt the power of her own femininity. Ada was right—it was possible to enjoy sensuality for its own sake. It was not lessened by the fact that you hated the man who aroused you; perhaps it was even heightened!
He was a bold and dominant man who would learn all the secrets of her body, but he could never learn the secrets of her mind. With firm yet tender hands, he pushed the gown from her shoulders, then shifted her slightly in his lap to pull it from her entirely.
She was quite breathless, and her breasts rose and fell temptingly from the delicate pink shift As his insistent hands removed the shift, she was aware of his sex, hard and throbbing against her bottom cheek. His hands did not stop until she sat nude upon his knee, save for her pink stockings and garters.
Ram stopped himself from thinking of the bed. He put an iron control upon the lust that demanded the drive and force of the dance of death. His urges were deeply sexual He wanted no handkerchief to tuck into his doublet, he wanted everything. He wanted her body and soul. He knew how to stoke the fires of desire by whispering wanton words into her ear as his hand stroked down across her hip and belly, seeking the scented, secret place that shielded her woman’s center.
She made a murmur of protest and closed her legs, denying him.
“Hush love, ‘tis easier tae get used tae my hand first.” Gently, he coaxed her legs apart long enough for him to slip his hand between “Are yer curls as fiery down here?” he whispered, and suddenly she knew that between his legs would be blacker than soot “Have ye any idea how often I’ve pictured it nestled beneath yer fancy laces?”
She hid her face against the hollow of his throat and knew her continual blushes secretly amused him. He slipped a finger inside her, and she gasped at the intrusion.
She hesitated, thinking such a thing was shameless, then gave way, knowing Black Ram Douglas would always take exactly what he wanted. The damnable part of it was he made her want it too! He stroked and circled, feather-light, until her core was afire. “You must stop,” she whispered.
“Nay, if I stopped it would leave ye yearning and unsatisfied. Your body as well as mine has needs. This is just a little foreplay tae heighten our desire for each other. If we play out the game of love tae its natural conclusion, ye’ll experience fulfillment. Give yerself up tae me, and I’ll guide ye along the path tae paradise.”
She lifted her face from his throat and looked deeply into his eyes. She saw herself there and thought, I am already a part of him. He needs me now and forever. I must become like a narcotic to him so that when I withdraw, he will die of it.
As their eyes locked together, an innate knowledge came to her. She would not give in too soon or too easily, but when she did she would hold back nothing. She would not met him halfway, she would go all the way. It would be unconditional surrender; it would be cataclysmic!
He lifted her against his heart and carried her to the bed. He laid her upon the golden lynx fur and stood at the foot of the bed gazing enraptured at the velvety texture of her skin against the fur. She lifted her feet playfully and rested them against the great slabs of hard muscle on his wide chest.
With teasing hands he peeled one stocking and garter from her leg, then in no hurry at all to remove the other, erotically threaded his fingers through her fiery red triangle until she arched into his hand. Naked, beneath his hot gaze, she was provocative. She could not help herself! She slid over onto her stomach and rubbed her tingling mons into the soft fur. Her uninhibited behavior was making him wild. Her hair spilled across the golden lynx in a shimmering torrent, and he tore at his clothes to rid himself of the impediment.
He ached with the need to cover her naked body with his, to feel the soft silken curves along the whole, hard length of him. He straddled her, his iron-hard thighs, enfolding her softness. He lifted her hair and trailed kisses all the way down her spine. His hands slipped beneath her to cup her breasts. “Turn to face me,” he demanded.
“No,” she teased, and rubbed her cheek into the luxurious fur. “Your pelt is not so soft.”
“By God, it’s not soft ye want!” he said hoarsely.
She moved her bum evocatively against his groin and experienced a thrill of pleasure when he moaned. Her power over him was growing. He bent to her ear. “Are ye afraid tae see me?”
She was, a little, but this only heightened her excitement. She decided to admit it. “I think I am afraid. I’m not ready to let you go further.”
“I only want tae kiss ye,” he promised, and the magic words did the trick. She turned over, and her golden eyes devoured him. His skin was smooth, tanned a dark, swarthy copper. A heavy black pelt covered his powerful chest. He reminded her of a satyr. She dared not glance at the upright evidence of his manhood and slipped her arms about his neck to bring his mouth down to hers.
He could deny his hunger no longer. His kisses were not leisurely now—they were hot and demanding, taking not giving. They were ravenous, smoldering, and savage. Her own kisses grew in intensity. They were wicked and scandalous, erotic, yearning, yielding.
His tongue plunged in to take all her sweetness, and she opened to him, allowing him to plunder her mouth, ravishing her as surely as he had before, only this time he had her consent. They were both lost to reason. She lay trembling in the furs, sensual and ripe.
He did as his dark, sensual nature compelled him to do. He despised caution, thought it showed a miserly attitude to life. The head of his shaft glistened with the sheer drops of his body’s lubrication. He opened the tiny folds between her legs, took hold of his manroot and rubbed her cleft to moisten it, then he plunged in and saw her eyes dilate with pleasure-pain. When one jumps across a deep chasm, it is better to do it in one bold leap than two.
For one agonizing moment she thought he had done it to her again, but by sheer force of will she gave herself up to him. He branded her insides so erotically, she screamed from excitement. Together they were like fire and ice, love and hate, life and death. Deep spiraling sensations blotted out all words, all thoughts for both of them. He made love like a whirlwind, like a storm raging in the Atlantic.
Their senses reeled, built then shattered, over and over, like waves tossing high, before they pounded the shore. Their coming together was too intense, too consuming to be drawn out. Their cries and their mouths and their fulfillment mingled together in a feral explosion. His look was so fierce, she wondered if he hated her. The Douglas passion unleashed was devastating. Suddenly she burst into tears.
Instantly he was contrite, cradling her. “Honeylamb, did I hurt ye?”
“Yes … no,” she whispered.
He stroked her hair and her back tenderly. “I’m sorry. Was it still life’s greatest disappointment for ye?”
She lifted her face and sought his eyes. Her eyelashes were spiked with tears, and her hair tumbled in wild disarray. “No, it was like a revelation.”
He hugged her to him and began to laugh with relief. It was contagious.
Suddenly Tina was laughing through her tears. She didn’t know why exactly, except perhaps in the game of war in which men and women engaged, she was no longer the victim, but the victor.
He was reluctant to part with her, so they lay curled together beneath the furs. She had a great curiosity about his body and its workings, but she would save her explorations for next time, when some of her shyness had vanished.
He dipped his head to kiss her good night and murmured, “Honeypot.” She stiffened, for he had hurled the promiscuous name at her with contempt in the past. His arms tightened. “My honeypot,” he emphasized. God help him, he already wanted to take her again. But he curbed his lust. She was in wonder over what had happened between them, and he would not spoil it for her for anything on earth. “Tomorrow we’ll ride tae Solway Firth, and I’ll make a sailor of ye.”
Chapter 22
When she awoke in the big bed, she was alone. She sat up and blinked in disbelief that it was morning. How could she have slept so soundly in the same bed with a strange man? And that man her enemy!
She was relieved that Ram Douglas was not there with his dark, intense eyes to watch her rise, yet at the same time she experienced a sense of loss. When she threw back the fur and swung her legs from the bed, she blushed to see that all she wore was one stocking. It felt even more scandalous than sleeping nude.
Ada was ready with her bath. She cast her an anxious glance. “Are you all right, Tina? I heard you screaming in the night, but I didn’t dare to come in.”
“Scream?” Tina repeated blankly, then her cheeks suffused with pink as she recalled how vocal both of them had been. The corners of her mouth lifted. “It must have been Douglas when I gave him the coup d’éclat.”
Ada knew it was when Ram had given her the coup d’épée, or swordthrust, but she decided the moment called for a little discretion.
As she stepped from the water, Tina said, “He said something about riding to the Solway. Probably wants to get a good look at the Kennedy land I’ve brought him along the River Dee and gloat over it.”
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