by Marie Hall
The man next to her started but, in a heartbeat, a big lopsided grin spread over his face. "My lady, praise God."
"Where?" She tried to clear her throat but couldn't manage.
"Here." Simon placed his hand behind her head and, as he lifted, he tipped a cup to her lips. Io ignored the horrid taste of wine and took a second sip. Simon set the cup aside and eased her back.
"Where are we?" Io asked and looked past Simon. The room was packed with people. Most looked to be asleep either on the floor or against walls.
"Hillsdale," Simon answered, rolling to his knees and pushing up to stand. "Let me get someone." He was gone before Io could question him.
Someone? Where was Xavier?
"Io," Gunther whispered as he came down beside her on the floor. "You gave me a little fright, my lady."
"I do not understand?" Why was she speaking with Gunther and not Xavier?
"Ah, now," he soothed and wiped at her eyes with a cloth. He leaned back and handed the cloth to Simon. "Get that wet again," he told the man who scrambled to do as told. "You are still too warm," he said to her and tucked the covers up to her chin.
"Where is Xavier?"
"He could hold out no longer; he is asleep at the table there." Gunther pointed and Io tipped her head way back. All she could see were the legs of tables, chairs and men. "This is the first he's slept in three days. He wants to be told when you are up," Gunther said, lowering his voice even more. "But he said that when he was working at other things. I think we might let him rest a little longer." He winked at her.
She nodded. Relief in knowing he'd not left her behind as punishment for her behavior made it easier to relax. "What happened?"
"You took fever and would not wake up." Gunther settled on his side and propped his head up. "Xavier had us push through the whole day and night to get this far." The man smiled and chuckled a little. "He forced every last person out of this place and here we have been for three days."
"I have become nothing but a burden," Io said, turning her eyes back to the ceiling. "To all of you."
"No, Io. Travel was hard and you were not yet recovered when we left the shore."
"If I had not left the house in the first place—"
"You would be dead. The assassin…" Gunther shook his head. "Running was the best thing you could have done." Simon came back with the cloth and a cup of something steaming.
"Should I tell Lord Brice?" Simon asked as Gunther took both items from him.
"Let him sleep, it should make no difference another hour." Gunther looked back toward the table and Simon laughed quietly.
"He tried so hard to stay awake, my lady. He would drift off and slip off the chair or hit his head on the wall or his arm would give out and he smacked his face on the table. And he insisted he was not tired." Simon told her as he took a seat on the floor next to Gunther.
Io felt her lip twitch. "He calls me stubborn," she grumbled and took the cup Gunther held out. She could smell the richness of the broth and her stomach growled. Both men again gave a quiet laugh.
"That is a good sign," Simon said before disappearing again. When he came back, it was with a loaf of bread.
"I do not remember this tavern having such fare?" Io tore the bread and dipped it in the broth.
"Yes, well, Xavier…" Gunther started and through the rest of the night they entertained her with anecdotes of her husband's uncharacteristic behavior. And as the night wore on, others woke and joined in on the story telling. Not just of the last few days but of the entire period from when she left to the moment they found her. It seemed they could all find humor in much of what happened now that there was no crisis.
Xavier had tried several times to convey how he felt when she vanished. Io hadn't understood. Hearing from these men about his actions, how he paced and cursed and talked to a small child, even to his horse, made it easier to know how much he did want her. How far from what he knew and understood he would stray. The normal stoic, disciplined, sometimes harsh man she thought she knew. The man who tried to do as much as possible the way it was expected to be done according to protocol was who she left. That wasn't the man who came after her.
"…and the boy just stood there," Fitz finished and the small group around Io laughed.
The sound of chair legs scraping preceded the crash as it hit the floor. Everyone turned. Io turned at the waist to look. Before her stood that man. The first one. The one that made her heart pound and her sex clench. The one who could make war-cured soldiers scramble for cover with a look as they did now. Xavier emerged from the shadowed corner like the devil from hell and Io caught herself before she reached between her legs to ease the ache that washed over her and settled there. Her heart sped up and she worried if she'd taken fever again for the way she burned. It was as if he'd grabbed her and lit her aflame.
"What in Heaven's name is this?" Xavier bellowed and, if anyone remained sleeping while Io and the men talked and laughed, they were awake now. A second loud crash turned everyone to the bar where the keep was trying to get off the floor. Io put her hand over her mouth to stop the giggle. Xavier's expression as he stepped towards her was far more effective in that.
"How long has she been awake?" Xavier's heavy tread shook the floor and Io lay back down and pulled the covers up to her chin. Was this the man she wanted? Or was the other version of Xavier the one she hoped to keep?
"He is only still worried and tired, Io," Gunther said close to her ear. "Let him see you are well again and he will settle."
"Why was I not told," Xavier asked, his tone softening as he knelt beside her. "The fever?" His hand brushed her cheek and then he tried to set it on her forehead.
"Xavier, leave me be," Io complained and turned her face. Her eyes meet Gunther's and his expression quelled her fight. She sighed and rolled her head back. Xavier's hand hesitated, hovered, then lighted on her skin, warmer now than her own. He shifted from his knees to his hip and Io watched relief relax his tense muscles.
"Thank God," he breathed. Then turning to Gunther growled, "Why wasn't I told when she woke?"
"Xavier," both Io and her guard started. Gunther acquiesced and Io pushed herself back to a sitting position. "Xavier, I have not been awake so long," she said and let him help her sit up. "You have not slept for all you have tried to get done. Is it so terrible that you rested a night?"
"Io." His chiding tone brought a smile to her lips and she reached out for him. It took only a few heartbeats and she found herself seated firmly in his lap.
"You cannot return to the house exhausted if you want to keep me safe." She wound her arms around his neck and set her head against his chest to hear the steady beat of his heart.
"Io," he chided still but his arms went around her squeezing until she worried for the condition of her ribs. "You gave me a fright, wife. A week from home and…"
"Do you scare so easy, my lord?" she teased, "Do you forget I can fight?" She tipped her head back to look up at his face. There he was, that other Xavier. The one who'd come for her. The one who didn't do everything as it should be done. The one who didn't smash and break or cause to bleed as a solution to all matters. This man holding her, with a soft expression and a shimmer in his eyes that could only be tears, made her heart pound too. But rather than burn her with heat he melted her, slow and easy. He pulled her in and held her safe and secure. "I can fight," she told him again. Or maybe she only reminded herself.
Xavier lifted her higher so her head came to rest on his shoulder and she felt his face press into her neck. A drop of moisture fell to her collarbone and rolled down nearly to her breast before it was gone. "Do not leave me, Io," he whispered as he nuzzled against her. "Do not leave me; I could not survive it."
"No, no more leaving, no running. I can fight. I will fight."
"Not alone, Io," he said, making her smile again as he used her shoulder to wipe tears he would hide from everyone.
"Together."
"Stronger." He turned his head an
d claimed her lips.
Chapter Seventeen
"You, sir, are an imbecile," Io said and stomped her foot on the floor. "I will not pay twice for the same thing."
"My lady," the keep started.
"Do not 'my lady' me. Do you think my husband took a fool to wife?" Io snapped and paced away. Well, maybe given she stood here now shouting at the man in nothing more than a shift and a fur, she could understand if he said he did think such a thing. Her hair was such a wild mess she might resemble more an animal than the wife of a high lord. "Lord Brice paid to keep water hot, did he not?"
"Yes, my lady, but—"
"No. If the water is hot and to be at my disposal, then do not think you will be allowed to charge me again for the use of that water." It was perhaps a stupid way to start using her authority, but she wasn't likely to ever see this man again so practicing on him hurt no one. Still, needing to even argue over using a few buckets of hot water to wash was disconcerting. It certainly felt more like when she'd had to face off against Xavier's mother for every little luxury.
Xavier planned to leave here tomorrow. A break in the weather made it an opportune time and they all knew once they crossed the border, the roads would be better maintained. Io wanted to wash the grime and sweat from her body before being bundled back up for the ride. Only the man wouldn't give her the two buckets of water she asked for unless she paid for them. She knew though that Xavier was paying the man ridiculous amounts of money to use the tavern. He paid too to have the food, he provided, cooked. For the use of the platters and cups, even the use of the fireplace for which Xavier provided the wood. The man already grew wealthy off her husband; Io wasn't willing to add to his purse.
"My lady, the water is hot and I would willingly place it in a cup or use it to heat rags, but you did not pay for the use of the buckets and—"
"Greed is a sin, sir," Io shouted. She was about to tell the man to fill every cup in the building with the water. She'd wash that way out of spite for this man.
"Io?" Xavier called as he came through the door. "Are you well?"
Io took a breath and willed herself to be calm. She knew if Xavier suspected at all something was wrong with her he'd delay their leaving and that would gain this stupid man before her even more coin. "I am well, my lord. A disagreement that is about to be settled is all."
"I heard you yelling from outside." Xavier stepped up and put his arms around her then pressed his lips to her temple. He might like to make her think he only kissed her but he checked now for the fever and Io could do nothing but let him. "What is the disagreement? Hum? Perhaps I can help you settle it."
"I wish to wash before we leave. He…" Io pointed at the tavern owner, "will not give me a few buckets of the hot water."
"You will not be able to bathe well here, Io. Do you not want to wait until…" Her expression stopped him. He stood straight and looked around. "You have some plan as to how you will accomplish this?"
The big room was open and there were none of the smaller private rooms as many taverns had. "There is a small alcove back there." Io pointed past the bar. "With everyone out…" She shrugged.
He placed a kiss on her head then strode back to the place she pointed out. She could see him looking the space over. He tested the small door which was barred from the inside then seemed to be measuring the space. When he returned, he reached into his tunic and removed a coin which he flipped to the man Io moments ago refused to pay. "Give her want she wants and be quick."
"Xavier, do not pay him again for—" Io started, tossing her hands up.
"Hush," Xavier said then headed to the door. "Do not start your bath until I return." And like that he was gone.
Io turned back to glare at the man. He smiled back but, as he turned to get the water, Io heard him say, "If a man wishes to treat you like a queen, it is poor manners not to let him."
"A queen?" She huffed, "He treats me like a goddess, you idiot."
***
Io carefully tipped the bucket, mixing the hot and cold water to make it a usable temperature. She set the empty one aside and dipped in the rag, bringing it to her neck before squeezing out the water.
It wasn't as good as soaking in a tub or even close to a long swim, but she was satisfied to feel the water run down her back and between her breasts. There was no soap either, but it didn't matter. The feel of a hot, wet, clean rag scrubbing along her skin did enough to set her right. She dipped the rag again and a small moan escaped when she set it behind her neck and washed.
"Io?" The edge of the trap was pushed back and Xavier stuck his head past the curtain he'd hung himself. "Are you well?"
Looking back over her shoulder, Io saw him looking at her. It was perhaps the first time she'd stood before him fully nude and in fair enough light he could give an appraisal of her body. Judging by the heat in his eyes, he'd not lied when he stated he wanted her. Io turned back and took a deep breath. She had her back to him now, and her leg and side were not visible. And while he'd already seen the damage to her thigh, touched it even, he'd not looked at it in context of her entire person. And she didn't think the jagged line along her ribs he knew of yet. The sharp rocks didn't cut deep enough to need stitching so the skin was mostly smooth to the touch.
"Io?"
She turned once more to look at him. The heat in his eyes replaced with concern. Forcing a smile, she side stepped towards him and covered his face with her hand. "I am fine," she said then pushed him back.
"Yes you most certainly are." She heard him say with a chuckle. And before she could move back, he was again peeking around the edge of the trap.
With a shake of her head, she went back to washing. She should have known her husband wasn't going to sit outside the divide and simply wait patiently. But when his fingers brushed over the swell of her arse, she wasn't ready for the flash of heat that coursed through her. Her body reacted instantly. Her nipples tightened and stood out, her sex clenched and a wetness not from the soaked rags she squeezed gathered between her thighs. She moaned again as his fingers trailed down then back up brushing the cleft between the globes.
"Io," he called and, despite intending to step forward beyond his reach, she stepped back. The whole of his hand now rubbed her arse and along her hip, then partway down her thigh and back up. "Io, touch yourself."
She started at his command. "You touch me," she countered.
"I am, your turn." His grin was almost evil in its wickedness. His hand smoothed up the back of her leg and his finger curled around close but not close enough to that part of her now throbbing for attention.
"Xavier," she sighed and took another step into his touch.
"Touch yourself, Io. Show me again what you like." Like his hand, his voice was a soft caress. A call leading her to follow. Io trailed the rag she held down between the valley of her breasts then up so the soft cloth could stroke the puckered tip.
His hand slipped up. Strong fingers wedging between the twin mounds of her arse stopped to tickle at that place he'd not visited in so very long. Io's body clenched and she pressed her thighs together as she bent almost in half. Was she so wanton as to nearly spend with so little effort? "Xavier, please."
"Io, touch yourself." His words were becoming more a command but Io knew if she did he'd pull his hands away and she'd be left on her own to take what was already in reach. She shook her head and again stepped back into his hand. Xavier pulled away and she heard him laugh softly when she verbalized her distress. "Touch yourself, Io. I want to see you pleasure yourself."
"I cannot." She could but she wanted him to do it.
"You can, you must." He leaned in well past her and Io shifted to keep the marks on her body from view. "Here," he said picking up the small bath brush sitting on the bench with the buckets. He pulled the rag from her fingers and pressed the smooth horn handle into her palm.
What was she supposed to do with this? The question must have shown on her face because he laughed again and turned her hand so the stiff
but soft bristles brushed across her tit. The sensation jolted her and she tightened her grip and brushed the bristles across her flesh again. Xavier took hold of her wrist and pulled down. The brush scrapped gently down her torso at Xavier's direction. He forced her hand to turn a bit and then, rather than pull, he pushed her wrist until the unflocked bristles stroked between her mounds and touched her clit.
Io gasped and reached for the support of the wall with her free hand as her knees buckled. A slight tug at her wrist and the brush came up and more of the boar's hair wedged between her swelling sex so, on the down stroke, Io shook with the intense pleasure. Up then down and up again. Io couldn't resist shifting her feet apart to accept the feeling. She tried but couldn't stop him when Xavier pulled her hand away. She cried out for the loss but he only took it from her long enough to dip the brush in the hot water before setting it back.
The dry bristles were an unexpected pleasure; wet they were like nothing she remembered feeling. As much as she thought about stopping the motion which agitated at her aching nub, she couldn't. Adding pressure made it better in the worst way and Io lifted her leg, setting her foot on the bench and opening herself even more.
"Ah, yes. Xavier," Io called.
"Yes, Io. Work that. Work it."
Io forced her pleasure heavy lids open and looked over where her husband sat on his stool against the wall. When had he stopped being the one scrubbing the brush over her sex? As shocking as it was, this was all being caused by her hand. Io couldn't stop now. Closing her eyes, she did as instructed. She worked it. The pace and pressure again increased and as her eyes fell closed again, the tightening in her body grew to a point bordering on pain before she tossed her head back, arched her hips into the motion and shattered. Even as her body jerked with release, she continued to draw the brush along her clit until a second orgasm grabbed her, stealing her breath and weakening her legs. She dropped the brush to press both hands against the wall.