“Nay. We are not.”
* * *
Taveon raced out of the Great Hall and into the corridor. He caught up with Meghan and Viviana at the cistern just as his wife convulsed with illness. What in the name of Zeus? Why had she rushed out? And why the hell was she ill?
‘Twas doubtful he would gain the answers he sought by launching into a tirade of questions. He took the goblet of gooseberry wine from Meghan’s hand. “Ye may go. Thank ye.”
Meghan dipped her head and scampered away without a word which gave him more cause for concern than the fact that his wife was bent over a chamber pot casting up her guts.
Viviana snapped upright and gawked at him with wide violet eyes. “M’laird.”
Why was she always surprised to find him caring for her? He pressed his hand to the small of her back and held the goblet to her lips. “What has happened?”
Her eyes grew impossibly wider. She latched onto the goblet and took a sip, only to swish the contents in her mouth, and then spit into the chamber pot. She repeated the action two more times then wiped the spittle from her lips with back of her sleeve. She offered him a wobbly smile. “I suppose I’m still suffering the seasickness.”
“We are on land.” His gaze narrowed.
Her chin pinned to her chest. “I… I’ve had a… taxing day.” Her words were clipped, short, sharp. She was lying.
“Someone has upset ye.”
“No. Everything is wonderful.” Her head jerked side to side with a force that turned her hair into black whips. “Please. I’m weary. Might you summon a maid to assist me in my chamber? I wish to retire for the eve.”
Something was amiss, but he held confident he wouldn’t pry any answers from his wee wife this night. He would seek out Remi on the morrow to find out what had caused her such upset. For the nonce, he intended to coddle his wife and tend to her needs. “Come. I will assist ye.”
Taveon escorted her up the curved stairwell of the north tower. He looked at the bare soot-covered walls thinking the keep lacked warmth. ‘Twas not at all like her gaudy Medici Palace. “Have ye formed an opinion of Ravenhurst?”
“It is wonderful,” was all she said and chewed on her lip.
Their footfalls echoed in the empty corridor. “And what of Cora-Rose? She is forthright. Did she make ye feel welcome?”
“Sì. Sì. She is wonderful.”
“And Makayla?”
“She is wonderful. Just wonderful.”
Ouish! Wonderful, aye? He pulled her hand to his chest. “If everyone is so wonderful, why are ye trembling?”
“I’m cold.” Her reply came far too quickly.
The yellow glow seeping out from beneath his chamber door eased his tension. He exhaled and pushed the door wide grateful to find his chamber clean and prepared for his return. The hearth blazed with a fire that warmed his face and soothed his angst. He scanned the chamber slowly for Viviana. On the bedside table, a candelabra flickered with a half-dozen tiny flames that danced across the four poster bed hidden behind a layer of dark green drapes.
He grinned, feeling suddenly mischievous. Whatever had caused his wife’s upset could be remedied behind those curtains. “Our chamber, m’lady.”
“Our chamber?” Her fingers flexed around his. She gestured toward an interior door. “Does that led to the adjoining lady’s quarters?”
“Nay. It does not.”
“When I was married to Radolfo and Luciano I had my own chamber.”
He scowled. The mention of her previous husbands soured his mood instantly. “The wives of my forefathers never lived long enough to have need for their own chamber.”
She stiffened. Her brow stitched together and her bottom lip quivered. ‘Twas ludicrous to think she would be suddenly fearful of the marriage bed. Turning into her, he caressed her cheek and looked deep into her eyes where he might touch her soul. She was his mate. He was certain of it. No other made him feel the way she did. “Do ye not wish to share my bed?”
His question seemed to wash away her inhibitions. She inhaled a shaky breath, but her exhale was smooth, calm. She tilted her head back and closed her damp eyes. “I want for nothing more.” With the press of her fingers at his nape, she pulled him close and kissed him. His skin tingled and his heart ached to tell her how much he loved her, but Da’s teachings kept the words at bay.
He would show her instead. Cradling her face in his hands, he swept her mouth with his tongue. The salty taste of unshed tears stilled him. He pulled back and traced her glossed lips with his thumb. Black lashes lay against her cheeks spiked with tears. “What pains ye?”
His question only caused her more upset. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. A sob escaped her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him, holding him in place, and pressed her lips to his chest where his heart beat for her and her alone.
“Promise me you will never abandon me.”
Confusion formed a heavy scowl on his face. “I have already promised ye this.”
A small step backward set her away from him. “I am your wife. Your queen.” A bit of ire turned her purple eyes to sparkling gemstones. “If I ask you to repeat a vow, I would expect you to do so.”
If reassurance would ease her distress, then so be it. He had no intention of existing without her. “Ye have my word. I will never abandon ye.” With the tip of his index finger he traced a line from the pulse in her neck to her collarbone, then lingered over her silky skin, waiting.
She pulled his hand to her breast. “Make love to me.”
Her words caused his breathing to hitch. He pulled her back into his arms by her bodice and kissed her neck while he released the fastenings of her gown. Only moments later, he pushed the fabric over her hips and discarded the garment without care to the floor. Firelight poured through her sheer undertunic, outlining her generous curves. When he bent to remove her boots, the scent of her femininity filled his nostrils and surged straight to his groin. He kissed her mound through the threadbare material, then the gentle curve of her belly, then each nipple.
Air hissed between her teeth.
Her reaction caused his cock to grow another inch.
His mind ceased to question her conduct as his body ached to feel her heated flesh against his own. He picked her up and carried her to the side of the bed, where she eagerly assisted him by pulling back the curtains.
He set her atop the rabbit fur coverlet and released her long enough to remove his tunic and boots. When he looked back at her, she was kneeling before him—naked, save for the amulet. Her arousal was evident in the thickness of her womanhood perfectly visible between her spread knees. He stared at her, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world. The curse no longer owned him. “Ye will be happy here. At Ravenhurst.” He paused and touched her mouth. “With me.”
The seams of her lips separated. “I know.” She took the tip of his finger into her mouth and suckled it, laving it with her saliva.
Oh the places he wanted her to kiss him, to twirl her tongue, to suck. A zing bolted through his core. He’d asked her to trust him with her desires; mayhap he should trust her with his own. His eyes fell shut. The thought of such play had his arse clenching.
He renewed their kiss and trailed his fingers along the inside of her thigh.
She shivered and spread her legs wider.
He supposed he could torment her, draw out her climax until she was crying his name, but this night was not about seduction. It was about solace. It was about her finding her way and trusting him to keep her safe. Only then would she settle into his home, into his bed, and mayhap then she would let him into her heart.
Her teeth found his nipple as her fingertips roamed to and fro over his chest. “We are good together. You and I.”
She didn’t need to convince him. “‘Tis something I’ve known for a while now.”
He pulled her hard nipples outward the same moment she curled her fingers around his bollocks and squeezed. They moaned in unison.
; None to gently, he pushed her onto the mattress, then untied the laces of his braies to free his erection. His hands shook so furiously, he could hardly manage the task. The woman made him wowf.
Pushing her knees wide, he knelt between her thighs, wishing he hand the mind and the time to concoct a more creative position, but his need ruled his imagination. “I want ye. Now.” Two fingers sank easily into her wet, petal-soft folds.
“Take me.” Her legs hooked around his waist the same time her fingers curled around his girth and pulled him atop her. She stroked the length of him, then guided the head of his cock toward the haven of her hot center. Her pelvis lifted. She whimpered.
His sac grew taut, tingling with anticipation. Arms braced on either side of her, he reared back preparing to enter her in a single thrust.
“Dadi?” The tiny voice broke through the haze of desire like a blade in his back.
“Shite!” Taveon launched off her.
Viviana scrambled for her undertunic, her entire body flushed scarlet.
“Dadi, are ye hurting my new mum?” Tiny feet padded toward them as well as a series of clicks.
Thankfully the curtains remained drawn at the foot of the bed shielding Makayla’s eyes from the scene. “Nay, Poppet. Should ye not be abed? ‘Tis late.” He managed to stuff his throbbing cock back inside his braies and tie the laces while Viviana punched her head and arms through her undertunic. ‘Twas inside out, but she’d managed the task and was now peeling back the coverlet to crawl inside. No doubt hiding the same way he wanted to. She inhaled deeply in an effort to control her ragged breathing and then exhaled. Her decorum returned almost instantly. How did she do that?
Golden firelight drew a line when the curtains separated, and Makayla’s sweet cherub face popped inside. “Think ye I could get in bed with ye?”
“Nay.”
“Of course,” Viviana said in unison and splayed her arms wide.
Makayla’s bottom lip grew in thickness, blue eyes rounded, and her pale brows rose. “Can My Eyes come, too?”
Miocchi’s nose appeared between Makayla’s arm and side and propped atop the edge of the mattress. He whined.
Taveon rolled his eyes heavenward, already knowing he had no say.
“Of course.” Viviana assisted a beaming Poppet onto the high mattress, and then patted the foot of the bed. “Come, Miocchi.”
The beastie leapt, circled, then plopped at his feet.
Taveon bit down on the growl threatening to rip through his throat as the unwelcome parties took over his marriage bed. Ouish. This was his fault. He’d let Makayla sleep with him when she was but a wee babe, fearful she would stop breathing in the nursery and no one would be there to wake her.
Viviana was proving to possess less of a spine for discipline than he. She settled on the right side of the bed—his side of the bed—and Makayla nuzzled into her bosom. While firelight turned Makayla’s light-colored curls to spun gold, Viviana’s black mane spilled over the bolster like midnight laden with stars. Their heart-shaped lips reminded him of strawberries, and the smile lighting their faces made his heart ache with such a force he clutched his chest to ease the pressure.
Taveon had never seen anything more beautiful than the two women before him—his women. Conceding defeat, he settled beneath the coverlet and slid one arm beneath their bolster as the other curled around them to complete the circle. He drew his wife and daughter closer and realized his entire world lie within his arms. And he was never letting go.
“I like my new mum, Dadi.” Makayla’s tiny hand caressed Viviana’s nose.
“What do ye like about her?” he asked into Makayla’s curls.
“She is soft.”
“Aye, she is.” He moved his toe beneath the blankets and found Viviana’s calf. She returned his secret play with the flex of her foot.
“And she smells like fruit.”
Viviana’s laughter caressed his skin. She stroked Makayla’s hair, letting the back of her fingers brush his jaw. They were too damn easy to love. “Makayla, ye are a big lassie. Ye should be sleeping in your own bed,” he suggested, yet squeezed them a little tighter.
“I was. I waited for ye to come and sing me the slumber song.”
“Mayhap if your father sang the slumber song now, you might return to your bed?” Viviana asked and wiggled her toes against his.
Makayla nodded, the back of her head knocked his chin.
On the eve of the morrow, he would be sure to settle Poppet in her bed before he tucked in his wife. And he would bolt the door.
“Sing, Dadi.” With Makayla’s demand, he began to hum, searching his memory for the lyrics he’d not sung in months.
“Hush, my poppet, close your eyes. The morrow will bring a new sunrise.
“Trust in me and you shall see. Your dreams are safe with me. Your dreams are safe with me.” Taveon eased a little deeper into the bolster and rubbed the back of his fingers over Viviana’s forearm.
“Seek your slumber without fear. For I will keep you safe and dear.
“In the morn when you should wake, pray God will give you breath to take. Pray God will give you breath to take.
“Trust in me to be your eyes, until that fateful day arrives.
“Then walk with God and take His hand. He’ll lead you to the promised land. He’ll lead you to the promised land.”
He kissed the back of Makayla’s head and watched a single fat tear slip out from beneath Viviana’s lashes.
She laced her fingers in his. “Sleep well, my gentle Goliath. Come the morrow, we will end the curse together.”
Chapter 25
Viviana’s sleeping image filled her mind’s eye before she felt the press of tiny fingers against her lips. A tug on her hand brought her more fully awake. She rolled over when another more forceful tug had her feet swinging over the edge of the bed. A cool garment filled her lap. A few touches and Viviana recognized her mantle.
“Makayla—”
The small hand pressed against her mouth again, warning to her to be quiet, then Makayla looked at the sleeping giant filling the middle of the bed. His lips were parted, snoring lightly, and dark wavy locks were mussed in a way that made her smile. She could wake to this man every morn for the rest of her life—which could be far shorter than she’d expected.
She frowned and flattened her palm over her stomach, but Makayla pulled Viviana to her feet before she had time to dwell on the babe they’d conceived. “Makayla, the hour is—”
The little pixie shushed her and jerked her gaze back over Taveon.
He didn’t move.
Silently, Makayla opened the door and led Viviana into the corridor, her desire to escape the chamber unnoticed became more apparent with each passing moment. Children were such odd, intriguing little creatures. Nonetheless, Viviana wanted Makayla’s affections and doubted anything would stop her from gaining them.
Somewhere, a cock crowed, announcing the day. Viviana bent low. “It is very early. What are you about?”
“I want ye to meet someone,” she whispered.
Viviana might have guessed this someone was her only friend, Lily, but not at this ungodly hour. Most likely Makayla intended to drag her to the stable to meet a secret pet. Mayhap a kitten or some other rodent she had hidden away from her father. “Where is Miocchi?”
“Who?”
“My Eyes.” Viviana interpreted in a returned whisper, feeling somewhat juvenile for doing so.
“I let him out for some privy time.” Makayla looked down at the floor and Viviana caught a glimpse of the child’s attire; a plaid multi-colored kirtle beneath a dark mantle, and worn, brown boots. “We must hurry afore Dadi wakens.”
“Of course.” Viviana wrapped her mantle around her shoulders feeling oddly mischievous for agreeing to the outing dressed in naught but her undertunic. “Who are we meeting?”
“‘Tis a secret.” Makayla pulled her through the corridor.
There was a mystery to her game that intrigued V
iviana. She ignored the fact that her cold toes were bare and followed Makayla out of the keep into a morning touched with blue mist. So soft and delicate, she felt its damp fingers caress her face. Raising the hem of her undertunic with one hand, she held tight to Makayla’s linked fingers as they passed the stable. Wind whipped all around them, thrashing strands of Viviana’s hair across her face.
Their pace quickened.
The line of their arms grew taut, but the freedom Viviana experienced with the race filled her with the excitement of a youth. She hadn’t run since she’d lost her sight, and she didn’t realized how deeply she’d missed it until now. Delirious with sensations, she giggled even while cool air burned her throat.
Makayla took her gaze from the landscape long enough to look at Viviana, then shared a giggle of her own before she spurred forward, faster, harder, until Viviana was certain her calves would combust into flames. They ran down a hillock kicking lush grasses slick with dew. Then, what was undoubtedly the edge of the world entered her vision. A line where land fell away to the sea beyond. Makayla gave little attention to the pink light of dawn lifting over the cliff. Instead, she burst through a meadow spotted with purple and white saffron.
“Where are we going?” Viviana managed to ask, her throat itching and dry as burnt toast.
“There.” She pointed toward a clearing. A huge bolder sat in its center. A stone building draped in vines was nearly hidden within a foliage of trees to the east, but Viviana caught a glimpse of a cross before Makayla’s attention whipped away from the scenery. “‘Tis where they sleep.”
“It is where who sleeps?”
“The women of Clan Kraig.”
Viviana felt her face contort in confusion. Mayhap it was a morning ritual; the place where the women gathered for prayer. She eased Makayla to a jog. A blush added heat to her already burning face. She was practically naked beneath her mantle. “I should dress in something more appropriate for such introductions.”
“They willnae care. They are dead.”
My Cursed Highlander Page 25