"Have a care, lady. You have a son to think of," Roland eased forward.
"What do I care? Of what use can he be to me, now that you’ve taken it all? Stay back!" She laughed shrilly when he obeyed. "You thought I was that bitch Marissa, didn’t you? I’ll bet it pained you to think she was his mistress. Oh, she wasn’t--I saw to that. I liked to twist the knife, but she was pulling him away from me. I saw what she was doing, and after his funeral she got what she deserved."
Roland took a sharp breath. "You had her killed."
Pure malice glinted in her smile. "Do you miss her?" On that note of triumph, she stepped backward into thin air.
He sprang forward, but it was too late. Even if she’d been worth saving, those skirts of hers were as good as lead weights, the water was deep, and he was wearing boots and armor. She was gone.
Still in shock, Ally came forward and touched his arm. "How could she...."
"I don’t know." He put his arm around her and stared into the dark, swirling water. There was no answer to any of it; no sense in any of it. "I just don’t know."
There was no reason to postpone the voyage. Roland sent a message to his brother to relay to the queen as he willed and guided Ally onto the ship. Both of them were mostly silent for the rest of the day.
The next morning dawned brighter, and Ally basked in the sea spray and threw her head back to the wind. Here was freedom and power--the right to be her own woman, free of obligations of rank or responsibility. Even death could not depress her today.
Roland joined her at the bow and put his arm around her shoulders. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’ve always liked the sea."
She smirked at him. "Told you I wouldn’t be sick."
He laughed. "So you did. What herbs did Ceylon give you to make it so?"
She turned her face to the wind and wouldn’t answer. Let him wonder.
"Feisty wench." His hand slipped around her waist, anchoring her to him.
Those were golden days, just the two of them alone--well, they hardly noticed the crew. Sunrise and sunset on the sea was breathtaking, and at night the stars whirled madly in all their wonder. At night, too, Roland brought her to heights of wonder and eagerness so blissful that she wondered if anything could be better. Surely even his body inside her couldn’t make it any better?
In revenge, she made him show her how to pleasure him. It thrilled her, the power she had over his body, the pleasure she granted him. Roland in all his glory was a sight to behold.
Of course, when she got too cocky, he’d turn the tide on her. That was fun, too.
In less than a week they docked at "their" island. Their crew rowed them to the shore and the priest they’d brought performed the ceremony. Then the men erected their tent, left them with a skiff and supplies, and rowed back to the ship, promising to return in two weeks.
Ally raised a brow. "Did we agree on a deserted isle?"
Roland grinned and pulled her to him for a lusty kiss. "I didn’t think I’d get you to go the whole two weeks naked with witnesses about."
Laughing, he drew her toward some massive rocks, hiding her from the ship’s view. Stripping her of her clothes and her defenses with passionate kisses, he then slapped her on the butt and dashed into the surf, clothes and all. Of course, he’d only been wearing pants in deference to the tropical heat, and he’d tossed his boots the moment the others had sailed off.
Squealing her outrage and delight, she chased him into the warm water, splashing him with scoops of water. Grinning, he sloshed her with such great scoops of water that she soon cried mercy. Only then, when she was as sleek and wet as Neptune’s own daughter, did he claim her lips with hot possession, calling forth all the lessons of passion he’d invested. Her body shook in response and her head spun. Had he not lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist she would have fallen into the surf.
He carried her out of the water and spread her on the sand like his private mermaid and then he feasted. Every quivering inch was licked free of salt and his hands stroked her breasts and thighs. She writhed and could not be still, until a surge of energy made her try to force him down to her.
Her lover laughed, rose, and removed his pants. She drew breath at the daunting size of him, worldly enough to know it would fit, but virginal enough to wonder how.
And then he was on her, and she stopped thinking at all.
It hurt. That could not be helped. Under the hurt, though, in spite of it, grew a hunger, a desire that would not be quenched. She wanted him, loved him too much to stop, and it was good. Being joined with him was all she could have asked and more than she’d dare hope. Childish fantasies became a grown woman’s passion, and she clung to him until the fire of final release.
Above her, Roland stiffened, threw back his head, and roared. By the sound of it, he’d found it worth the wait as well.
They lay there for a long time, and then reluctantly moved into their luxurious tent and out of the burning sun.
It was too hot for a cover, and Roland’s soothing, roaming hands would have dislodged it, anyway. Feeling like a sheik’s treasured pet, Ally lay there soaking up the feeling of being cherished.
His hands closed about her breasts. "You know, you have the finest pair of breasts I’ve ever seen on a wench."
She choked. "What?"
His thigh slid over hers and he bent his head to her nipple. What he said next curled her toes and made her moan. Where had he learned to talk like that? And was that really what it was called? Naughty praises like that and knowing caresses won him a second round of pleasure.
All and all, it was a memorable introduction into the world of marriage.
* * * *
The days flew by, golden and all that she’d been promised, but a growing restlessness consumed her. Roland watched her knowingly as she spent more time thinking and less relaxing.
One night they sat on the beach, snacking on coconut and watching the sunset turn the waves fuchsia. He glanced at her. "You’re thinking of home. Longing to get back to work."
She stopped staring over the sea and frowned at him. "How did you know?"
Chucking his empty shell into the fire, he leaned back and grinned at her. "You always get that look when you’re mentally remodeling the keep or reviewing bloodlines in your head."
She tossed her shell into the fire and flopped down on the sand. Propping her head on one hand, she looked at him. "Do you mind? This has been pleasant, but I’m starting to think of home."
He shrugged and pulled her over to lie on his blanket. Nestling her in his arms, he admitted, "I expected it. These islands will always be here, but a woman like you will never enjoy them for long. A life of leisure would never suit you. You need something to keep you busy."
Ally nipped his chest. "I could think of something."
"Even you can’t do that all day."
"Even me? Why you…!" She laughed as her husband tumbled her onto the sand and "kept her busy" for a good long time.
The next day their ship came, and she bid a fond farewell to the island. Perhaps she would be back. Perhaps not. Ally had found her paradise pleasant, but surprisingly dull. Now that she’d given up her freedom to be a wife in truth, she discovered that running her estate really was one of the highlights of her life. Roland had been wise enough to give her the freedom to discover that on her own, and with her lover at her side, she had found that happiness wasn’t necessarily getting away from it all, but rather laying aside the armor to her heart and sharing it with a man who loved her.
Never again would she be the other woman.
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The Other Woman Page 18