Feathers in the Wind: The Cygnets

by Camille Anthony

  "I am merely attempting to behave in a gentlemanly manner,” he replied derisively, his tiger-bright eyes gleaming goldly in the muted lighting of the room. “Does not a gentleman take a lady's hand upon being introduced?” he taunted, moving steadily towards her as she just as steadily retreated from him.

  "Stop,” Merri begged, on the verge of hysteria. “Please do not come any closer.” She did not know why she was so terrified of this unknown man, only that she was. She sensed an implacable determination in him, a resolve so powerful nothing could withstand his will. She backed up another cringing step and felt the stone edge of the pool cool against her naked back. She saw the knowledge of her entrapment in the man's tawny eyes, saw the flame burning in them, and began to tremble.

  "Merridyth, you do not need to fear me."

  His deep voice fascinated her and she watched that full bottom lip move as his lips caressed her name. His eyes gleamed hotly, sweeping over her from crown to water's edge and beyond. His breath wafted hot against her mist-dampened face as he moved close, closer. His robes floated up and out from him, moving on the surface of the water, brushing her waist and breasts as he came to a halt scant inches before her, the water soaked cloth abrading her tender flesh.

  In defiance, she lifted her chin to gaze upon the harshly beautiful planes of his face, heart pounding at the physical threat of his big body practically on top of hers. She leaned far back, felt the humid air caress her bare breasts and swallowed the lump in her throat to beg, “Please ... at least tell me ... who you are?"

  Placing his large right hand over her left one where it struggled to cover her generous bosom, he curled his fingers about hers so the hair on his knuckles brushed against the sensitive tip of her left breast. Bending to place his lips right against the delicate shell of her ear he, whispered so quietly the water could not grasp his words to magnify them, “I am your destiny, your kismet."

  Merri jumped, heated sensation flooding through her from where his big palm covered her much smaller hand. Her knees weakened. Jerking away from the distracting, disturbing contact, she skittered sideways, noticing too late the move completely uncovered her body to him. She whirled in the water, facing away to present only the smooth, slim line of her back to him. “I refuse to accept that."

  She knew he allowed her to break his hold, moving with her, forcing her right up against the stone skirt of the pool. Her nipples pebbled with cold as they pressed against the chill damp tiles. Using both arms, he caged her from behind, his hands coming around to rest dangerously close to her exposed breasts. He leaned his weight on her, making her feel his heat at her back.

  Merridyth moaned, overwhelmingly aware of this stranger's strength, his potent male allure even as she sought to escape him. Fearful as she was, she could feel something within her straining to break free, something wild and powerful that wanted what the hard, male body behind her offered. It petrified her to realize she had so little control over her own body.

  A calloused hand swept slowly across the expanse of her quivering belly and she let out an abrupt squeal. One blunt fingertip delved into her navel, slowly circling. She moaned at the unexpected rush of feelings even as the flesh between her thighs grew slick and wet with something other than water. She felt the rumble of his amused chuckle and shrank in on herself, mortified that he had taken note of her helpless reaction.

  The man tightened his grip, body rock solid against the shivers racking her limbs, coursing through her body as she struggled, trying to break free of his restricting hands. He laughed and she seethed, growing angry that the lout so easily held her.

  "You cannot deny me. See how your body trembles? It pleases me that you are so responsive to my touch.” His voice dipped in awe as he continued, almost to himself, “We have not even kissed, you and I ... yet, you respond so beautifully, as though made for my pleasure."

  Merri's eyes widened as he dared to palm an upraised nipple. The male pride evident in his voice as he assured her, “You will be mine!” set her teeth on edge.

  She tugged at his trespassing fingers, trying to dislodge his hand from her shrinking mound. Telling herself it was tremors of cold racking her body from where her shrinking flesh pressed against the pool's edge and not lust from the heated threat of the body pressing her from behind, Merri cried out in impotent anger. “You pompous, detestable animal, I am not your possession, nor anyone's."

  He frowned blackly. “I like not your comment. You'll find I am a jealous lover. I will not tolerate even the thought of you in another's arms. You are mine,” he reiterated, hands unconsciously tightening in ownership. “You were brought here to be my—"

  Merri interrupted his sentence with a sharp backwards push against his encircling arms. “I belong to myself. You disgust me. You are a savage who thinks nothing of another's dignity, to would accost a lady in her bath like this. I would never submit to a barbarian like you. Oh—!” She shrieked as she was jerked abruptly about to face the man's angry visage.

  "That is twice you have maligned me,” he growled, hands digging into her shoulders. She winced, and immediately, he loosened his hold, the fire in his eyes banking to a smolder. “First, I am not a gentleman, now I am a barbarian and a savage. You would be well served should I act according to your expectations.” His eyes flared, glowing with some strong emotion. Without warning, he bent his head to hers, firm lips dropping to brand hers with a fiery kiss.

  They dueled with their lips and their bodies, his aggressive, powerful; hers resisting, stiff, yet on the verge of yielding until, with an agonized cry, she wrenched herself free.

  "You have already shown me what an animal you are.” Merry flung at him from between gritted teeth, savagely wiping at her swollen mouth in an attempt to erase the lingering impact of his touch. “And keep your hands off me,” she warned, snarling, as he moved to recapture her.

  "One day soon, you will beg for my touch,” he promised grimly, hauling her back against his muscular chest in a calculated display of powerful male muscle. “And I will be eager to comply with your request."

  "Then do me a favor now,” Merri snapped, trying to keep space between their bodies “Hold your breath for three days."

  The man threw back his head and laughed, allowing her to gain a few inches. His laughter changed his countenance, softening the planes of his handsome face from sternness to youthful exuberance, stunning Merri. He was beautiful. Her wayward heart sat up and took notice, but she stopped its clamoring with a sharp internal reprimand.

  "You are magnificent. A worthy consort,” he complimented her. “What times we will have, you and I. You make me wonder ... who will tame whom? Can you bend me to your will? Or, will you succumb to mine?” He gazed down at her, eyes blazing, and his hands tightened until he was painfully squeezing her shoulders.

  She followed the direction of his transfixed stare, and saw he was visually devouring her breasts where they bobbed in the buoyant waters, round and full, their deeply pink tips hardened in response to the cold, the fear, and—she acknowledged, if only to herself—the man. His concentrated attention made her painfully aware of her nakedness ... again.

  "Oh, I truly hate you,” she whispered through unsteady lips, her face flushing rosily.

  "I doubt that, my lovely, but if so, I will change your mind,” the intruder whispered arrogantly, once more brushing her ear with the movements of his lips, this time putting the tip of his tongue right inside."If only you could see how beautifully your blushing cheeks match the soft rose color of your pretty little nipples..."

  Merri yelled again, raising her hands to strike at him. “I hate you."

  He caught her hands, shaking his head in warning. “I would not do that were I you. Should someone witness your striking me, you could be invited to drink the Bosporus."

  Merridyth stilled under his hands, going pale. She had heard that phrase somewhere. It was a phrase meaning the person would be drowned. Merri began to shake uncontrollably.

  "I was joking.”
the man said, frowning over how his words had affected her. He gathered her trembling form closer. “I would never allow harm to come to you."

  Was he trying to comfort her? Merri wondered, becoming angry all over again. New odalisques’ first lessons were the penalties imposed for disobedience. It was a death offense to raise one's hand, or offer violence to the Sultan.

  Oh my god, have I been fighting and resisting Selim III? Merri had assumed the ruler was a much older man, but having never seen him, she could not be sure ... and she did have an appointment with him today. If this man was the Turkish Sultan, the ruler of the empire... She whimpered. “Oh, glory."

  "Aren't you ready to get out of there, Merri?” Susan's voice rang in the sudden silence. “I have already been to check on Seana, and here you are, still—"

  Susan stood frozen in horror at the tableau before her. Her struggling, naked cousin was closely constrained in the embrace of some intruder. Letting out a shout loud enough to rival her cousin's Amazon cry, Susan launched herself straight at the interloper.

  "Susan, no!” Merry moved quickly, interposing her body between her attacking cousin and the man she suspected was the Sultan of the Turkish Empire. “For glory-sakes, Susan.” she begged, “Do not hit him ... you'll be killed."

  Susan lowered her fists. “Killed? Because I would protect my cousin and rout an intruder?” She shrugged off the linen cloak draped over her flimsy harem garments and passed it to Merri. “Here, put this on."

  Merri lost no time donning the voluminous shawl. Feeling reasonably covered, she turned to face her tormentor.

  He was staring at her borrowed robe as if contemplating tearing it off. “Feel safer with that flimsy garment, do you?” he asked tightly, totally ignoring Susan's presence.

  "As a matter of fact,” Merri retorted, her chin rising pugnaciously, “I do."

  Lifting a wicked eyebrow, he grinned showing even, white teeth and drawled, “I can see right through it."

  Merri struggled for composure. Grabbing the outer edges of her robe and overlapping them tightly, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that better?” she asked sarcastically.

  The infuriating man shrugged. “I certainly do not think so, yet I suppose better depends upon your point of view. I liked you wearing something a little less ... concealing—"

  "I was wearing air."

  "And very beautifully, too.” He smiled. “I shall have the court seamstresses run up an abundance of the material for you."

  His lips twitched, and he yanked them back into a straight line. Merri frowned, somehow sensing he played with her. Her suspicions were vindicated when he said, “Ah, Merridyth, I could not resist teasing. Your dumfounded expression is so cute."

  "Cute?” Merri sputtered. Her hands curled into fists as she fought the urge to slap the impudent male.

  Susan, her mouth hanging agape, stood watching the exchange between her cousin and the man. Her head snapped back and forth, following their conversation until she grew dizzy. She instinctively knew—and her searching gaze lent weight to her conclusion—that the man was someone of importance, for he carried himself with an air of practiced, unconcerned nobility. Even standing waist-deep in a pool, dripping wet, he exuded an air of effortless self-assurance.

  Susan turned her attention back to her cousin. Merri was acting most unlike herself. Instead of her usual modest manner, she seemed to have no idea of the impropriety of talking to a man while in the bath. In fact, her modest cousin had actually been standing naked before him, apparently unconcerned at her state of undress. She certainly did not appear to be frightened of the stranger. “Have I interrupted something?” Susan finally asked uncertainly.

  "Yes!"

  "No!"

  Merri and the intruder shouted their answer at the same time.

  The man quirked a slashing black eyebrow, moderated his voice and used softer tones. “Actually, Lady Susan, you interrupted an introduction."

  "How do you know my name, Sir?"

  "And is it not high time that we know yours?” Merri pounced, not waiting for him to answer Susan's question. After all, it was late in the day to modify her behavior. If he was the Sultan, she had probably made an awful first impression. Weren't women of the harem supposed to aspire to the Sultan's bed? She had rebuffed him ... several times.

  "I will answer all your questions,” the man promised, dropping his sexually teasing manner, “but first, allow me to assist you out of the pool.” Ruefully indicating his sopping clothes, he smilingly said, “I, for one, would like to carry on this conversation in a more comfortable atmosphere."

  Since Susan concurred before Merri could voice her own protest, she was reduced to watching, inwardly drooling, as the mystery man turn from her to lift her younger cousin out of the water, depositing her on the tiles with little effort, his muscles rippling and surging under his skin. It wasn't until he turned back to her that she realized he would be putting his hands on her again, under the guise of assisting her from the pool. She surged sideways through the water in a futile attempt to escape his nefarious design. With a crack of exuberant laughter, he caught her before she had gone many steps.

  Holding her twisting, resisting body with ease, he waded to the shallow side of the pool, striding up the steps submerged there. He smiled down into her angry face, eyes glinting in a challenge only she could see as he slid her curvy form down his rock hard body, uninterested that Susan stood watching, her face crimson with embarrassment at being a witness of such blatant sexual maneuvering.

  As soon as her feet touched solid ground, Merri dashed to Susan's side, distancing herself from temptation. While in his arms, she had almost given way to the urge to embrace the scoundrel. She couldn't understand why she was still reacting this way after the strict talking-to she had given herself.

  "Now then,” Susan said, briskly shaking out her clinging robes, “you, sir, have the advantage of us, for you know my name, and Merri's. Shall we get to that introduction?” she prompted.

  "Merry?” Eyes that could have been at home in a jungle burned into Merridyth. “Are you so joyful, then?” He made the obvious play on her name.

  "With an ‘i',” Merridyth said scathingly, frost dripping off her words, “A family name. And do not change the subject. For the third time ... who are you?"

  Taking one of Susan's hands and bending over it in a courtly manner, the man said, “I am the Emir Jamal, son of the Sultan, Selim III."

  "Oh, my.” Susan gasped. “I have heard of you."

  "I do not doubt it,” the prince said dryly. Turning to Merridyth, he lifted her hand, his eyes lifting to search her face when he felt her resistance. He let her tug at her imprisoned hand a moment, before proving his superior strength by bringing her hand up to brush her knuckles with warm lips. “I am also ... Jared Michael Randolph Jamal Tyson, eighth Duke of Wyndmere."

  Merridyth's eyes widened. She wordlessly shook her head no.

  "My cousin knows you, sir?” Susan questioned incredulously.

  "No.” Merri choked out.

  "Yes,” the Duke answered calmly, speaking over Merri's disbelief. “Rather ... she knows of me. We ... saw each other almost three years ago, and shared a ... meeting of minds. As I recall, there was no time for a formal introduction."

  "Oh, for goodness sake!” Merri gasped. “It was you.” Merridyth's eyes rolled up in her head. Without pomp or circumstance, she dropped into a dead faint.

  "Ah, my darling,” Jared crooned softly, catching her falling body up in his arms. He placed a tender, lingering kiss on her unconscious brow. “You do remember me."

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Enclosed, please find the letter from Ferdie. I told him I would send it on. He seemed more disturbed and agitated than usual, and was adamant about your needing to receive the information at the Soonest Possible Moment. (I do so hate the way that child talks in capitals.) At any rate, I resisted the urge to peek. Please write soon and tell me what bee is in his bonnet now. As usual, you
have all my love—Mum

  Chapter Thirty-six

  "I am really getting tired of waking up with a headache.” Merridyth groaned without opening her eyes. Susan's nearby chuckle caused her to turn her head, opening her eyes to locate her cousin bending low above her. Her brow creased. “Gracious. I was ... in the ... bathing room—” Merri's words trailed off in confusion. She sat up, asking, “How did I get back here?"

  "You fainted,” Susan said softly, rescuing the damp cloth dislodged from Merridyth's forehead with her sudden movement. “I would never have believed you to be so fragile, Merridyth. The Emir Jamal wanted to take you to his quarters after you fainted. I managed to convince him to wait until you had recovered, and I tell you, that was not an easy task. He really seems to have some strong feelings for you."

  She waited for Merri to respond. “Come on, Merri, say something. I'm eaten up with curiosity over this situation between you and the Sultan's son."

  With a shake of her head, Merri refused to answer.

  With a shrug of her own, Susan continued, “He finally had a eunuch return you here. Much as it seemed to infuriate him, even he is not allowed in the harem-proper—” She broke off to scrutinize Merri closely. “You frightened me,” she said quietly. “The prince was quite frantic, also. Are you feeling any better?” she asked. When Merridyth nodded, Susan said, “Good, because I have a million, million questions, and I'll have you know beforehand that I have every intention of harassing you until you divulge where, when and how you met that intriguingly handsome man."

  Merridyth groaned and turned her face away. “I really do not want to talk about this now, Susan,” she grated out. “My heart is still pounding from the stressful, emotionally upsetting meeting. I'm feeling a jangle of confused feelings and don't know what to make of them."

  He is here! The man I thought innocent, the man I mooned over for two years of my life, refusing all others because they hadn't measured up to my memories of him. The Duke who had so earnestly declared his innocence is here in a foreign court, hobnobbing with the people he'd been accused of aiding and abetting...