Unbound Heart

by Jane Atchley

  “Infantry, most of you are unfamiliar with the unique character of pontoon bridges. Because of construction methods and materials, not to mention the laws of physics—”

  “Please don’t,” Captain Fawr drawled. The assembly chuckled, shifted and visibly relaxed.

  “Have it your way, I will not bore you with the why and get straight to the what. Due to these laws of which you do not want me to speak, troops cannot, will not, must not march across the bridges. They will…” Duncan searched for the right word. “Stroll. Bridge crew will deploy at intervals to remind you to stroll. We will commence practicing the crossing immediately following this briefing. Generals, assemble your units behind the construction pits, please.

  “Questions?”

  “I have one. Where are you while all this fire, smoke and bridge building is going on?”

  Ah, General Rickman, what took you so long?

  “How remiss of me, as we cannot pre-construct an approach on the landing side, Red Fist and I will cross by boat ahead of the bridge crew. Our boat will become abutments on that end. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  The general grunted in his general direction.

  “Thank you, gentlemen, and ladies. Cavalry, you are relieved until evening mess. Get some rest. Infantry and bridge crews report to practice.”

  His tent emptied. Packed to bursting one moment, the next only Captain Fawr remained, perched on the edge of Duncan’s desk gazing at him with that look he got in his eyes sometimes. That look always put Duncan on guard.

  “Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out.”

  “Does it, sir? Then you think I fooled them?” There was some fatal flaw in his plan, and his captain was about to point it out. “I am writing a new chapter in the art of war. The truth is I do not know what will happen.”

  “No? I’ll tell you.” Pushing away from the desk Kree crossed to him, put his big hands on Duncan’s shoulders, and held him at arm’s length for a moment staring at him with that scary look in his eyes. “We’ll win or lose, and the sun will come up in the morning. Probably not for you, definitely not for me, but it will come up.”

  Duncan couldn’t believe his ears. “Those are your words of wisdom, sir. The sun will come up in the morning.”

  Kree grinned. “That and don’t make lost puppy eyes at me. It makes me want to hug you.”

  And he did.

  Duncan shoved his captain back. “You are saying I should not worry about things I cannot control.”

  Kree winked. “It’s a solid fact.”

  ****

  The girl wasn’t coming. He should have known she was gulling him. He was just a kid. No seventeen-year-old beauty would keep a date with him. She was probably sitting with her friends at the pub snug and dry, laughing at his stupid wet ass.

  “What’s that?” Roland wondered aloud to take his mind off his misery. “Some animal drowned upriver and washed ashore.” A weak whimper reached his ears. It wasn’t dead.

  Roland broke into a run. Skidding to a halt, he gapped at the water soaked creature. “Oh crap. Oh, crap. Oh crap.” He dropped to his knees. “Miss Faelan, are you drowned? Can you hear me?”

  Faelan opened her eyes and managed to drag her aching body a few inches nearer a pile of old supply crates.

  Roland glanced over. “You want to get behind those crates so you can shift?” Taking her whine as yes, he scooped her into his arms and staggered over to the crates. “Here you go, Miss Faelan.” He laid her on the wet sand, stripped out of his raincoat, and dropped it beside her. “You just do what you need to do, and when you feel like it, I’ll see you get safely to Duncan. Somehow.” He scooted back around the crates.

  ****

  Faelan shifted and took a few minutes to rest before pulling on the boy’s raingear. Peeking through the cracks between the stacked crates, she spotted Roland chewing his thumbnail and throwing nervous glances in every direction. What in the world was the boy doing out in the rain in the middle of the night? Alone. Lucky for her he was. She had nearly drowned. Faelan got to her feet and stepped around the end crate.

  “Thank you, Roland.”

  The cadet’s head snapped around like it was on a string. His finger flew to his lips. “Sentries,” he mouthed.

  Faelan ducked back into the pile of crates and put her eye to the crack just as two men materialized out of the rain.

  “Roland?” One of them called out. “Is that you boy? Whatcha you doin’ out here?”

  “Duncan sent me and Flick down to set up rain gauges. He’s worried about the rain’s effect on the current.”

  “Without your raingear?”

  Rain dripped off the boy’s nose and plastered his long braided hair to his back. He looked like a drowned rat. “I like a brisk walk in the rain.”

  “Do you? That’s well and good, but if you take the grippe, Duncan’ll have some words for you on the subject, I reckon. Here you go.” The man dug into his coat pocket and tossed a packet to the boy. “Take this. Where’s Flick?”

  Faelan shifted her weight forward trying to get a better view of the men. A stick broke under her foot.

  Roland nodded toward the crates. “Taking a piss.”

  “You got your raingear, Flick?”

  Faelan grunted.

  The man grinned. “You boys get your business finished and get out of the rain.”

  The sentries moved on.

  “What a cool liar you are, but really, taking a piss?” Faelan helped Roland struggle into the sentry’s extra rain slicker.

  Roland ducked his head. “I needed something so he wouldn’t take a look.”

  They walked up the gentle slope toward the camp. “What if they see Flick later?”

  “They won’t.” Roland grinned. “Flick’s got the grippe. Come on. We need to get to Duncan before we run into someone I can’t fool.”

  ****

  Duncan closed his eyes; Faelan’s fresh sea-breeze scent filled his senses. He reached out blindly and caressed the silver veil cloth folded over his headboard. The rain must be amplifying the trapped fragrance. He inhaled through his mouth, tasted Faelan on his tongue. A shudder ran through his body, his cock lengthened, thickened. So long as her veil held a trace of her scent, he was not putting it into his treasure box.

  Noise from the outer tent pulled him from his imaginings. “Roland? I thought you wanted—” Turning in his chair, his words died. He was seeing things, a hallucination born of need. What else explained a vision of Faelan standing just inside his doorway wearing Roland’s raincoat?

  “Do you have any Poi’taw?” His remarkable hallucination asked.

  Closing the distance separating them in four strides, Duncan cupped Faelan’s face in his hands and covered her mouth with his. After a few passion filled moments, he rested his forehead against hers. “I might find some around here somewhere.”

  “Good.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, “I really love the stuff.”

  There were questions duty demanded Duncan ask, but he did not care about duty just now. By some miracle, Faelan was with him, and she was all he cared about. Duncan slid one arm behind her knees, lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and carried her to his bed. Setting Faelan on her feet, Duncan unbuttoned the dripping raincoat and pushed the garment off her shoulders. He was dreaming anyway.

  “You are naked.”

  “You’re not.”

  Duncan meant to sustain this fantasy as long as possible. He did, but Faelan smiled at him, that sassy, sultry smile that set his blood on fire, and all his good intentions burned to ash. She was his woman and he needed her. Now.

  ****

  The crisp sheets felt shockingly cool against Faelan’s damp backside. Duncan was an inferno above her. His hands scorched her breasts. His lips seared the side of her neck. On the verge of combustion, she gasped his name.

  He lifted his head, his flame blue eyes blazing with desire. “W-What?” His breath came in short bursts as if he had just run a mile. His
nostrils flared. She imagined a bluish smoke drifting from them.

  “Give a girl a chance to breathe.”

  Duncan shook his head, his agitation tangible, and his need plain in every strained line of his body. “I-I-I am on fire.”

  “Then let’s burn together.” Faelan pulled his head down to her breast. His fire consumed them, burned out, left them sweaty, tangled in the sheets, exhausted.

  Faelan cuddled against her lover’s side, her cheek resting on his warm shoulder. Duncan held tight to the hand she had draped across his chest, but the faraway introspective look in his marvelous eyes said he was in the dark place he went after spending his passion, feeling mortal. Faelan was having none of it.

  She traced one finger along his strong stubble-covered jaw line. “I’ve been teaching some of the women to read.”

  He turned his head so his lips brushed her fingertip. “That must make you popular.”

  “Oh yes. So popular, Nicholas burned my books.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault Nicholas is an asshole.” She snuggled closer burrowing into his warmth.

  He gave a faded smile. “I brought you trouble. Captain Fawr said I did you a disservice on the barge. It appears he was correct. No surprise there…but still…I cannot say I am sorry for asking you to read that ridiculous paper.”

  Rising on one elbow, Faelan gazed into his oh-so-serious eyes. “Then what are you apologizing for?”

  “Our couplings are…so…frenzied.” He stroked his finger over her cheeks, tracing the line of her freckles, his eyes going warm and serious. “You deserve to be worshiped not devoured by a starving animal.”

  Far too serious. Faelan nipped at his full lower lip. “I rather like animals.” She rested her head on his shoulder again. “Your camp is quiet tonight. Where is the bonfire?”

  “Rained out.”

  “And our midnight fiddler, is he rained out too?

  Duncan was silent far too long then, “No.”

  Everything became clear, the quiet, and the absence of the bonfire. “The captain isn’t here. Your cavalry is gone.” Faelan scrambled out of bed. “It’s the eve of battle.”

  Duncan caught her arm. “Stay.”

  “I will not abandon my people.”

  “It is not the eve of battle.”

  “Would you tell me if it were?”

  “No.” His hand slid down her arm until their fingers interlaced. “Stay with me, Faelan.”

  “Not tomorrow, but—

  “Soon.” He finished for her.

  “You’ll destroy my people.”

  “It is not what I wanted.”

  “You wanted to harass and starve us into submission, and you would have succeeded if not for me.”

  “Even if they had not managed to put a spy in my tent­—which was clever of you by the way, my strategy would have failed.”

  Faelan let him pull her back into bed.

  “Your generals’ allegations are unreasonable. Even I cannot reason with unreasonable.”

  “The Kin-slayer, he—”

  “Captain Fawr defended his home. You’d do the same. Besides, your generals’ core complaint is some imagined offense by the Great Ladies, not My Captain.”

  “You will destroy us.”

  Duncan glanced away. “I will do my job.”

  Faelan pushed herself upright. “I have to go.”

  He ran his hand down her back leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Please stay. I dream of falling asleep and of waking beside you. Let me have memories of the woman I lo—”

  Faelan pressed her fingertips to lips. “Don’t say it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it makes everything worse, don’t you see?”

  “I do not see.”

  “There is no future for us. There is only now, this moment. Don’t say things that aren’t possible. I don’t want to hear them.”

  “Then stay with me in this moment.” Pulling her down, Duncan cradled her against his shoulder. “I feel what I feel, Faelan. You deserve to hear my words, and I deserve to say them. I love you. Was it so very terrible?”

  Duncan’s skin felt warm under her cheek. Too warm. “You’re feverish.”

  “No.” He snorted and Faelan swore she saw a trickle of blue smoke again. “I am just very excited.”

  Faelan leaned across his muscular chest and captured his warm, kissable lips with her own. “You keep saying sweet things and you’re going to feel mortal again very, very soon.”

  Duncan smiled. “Not a problem.” His eyes sparked blue fire. “It soon passes.”

  ****

  “Sir?”

  Duncan woke to the sound of his cadet’s urgent voice.

  “Sir, it’s almost dawn. If we’re to get your lady safely away, it’s gotta be now.”

  “Roland?” Duncan rolled over and glanced at the timepiece on his campaign desk. “What are you doing here? You went off duty hours ago?”

  “I told Rob you made me pull a double for cussing. I thought the fewer people who knew about Miss Faelan the better.”

  Smart boy. Fully awake now, Duncan ran his hand down Faelan’s smooth bare shoulder.

  She stretched like a cat at his touch, opened her eyes, and smiled at him. “Well, is it everything you dreamed?”

  “More.” Duncan pulled her close covering her lips with a soft gentle kiss. “I never imagined you would look so adorably mussed.”

  As his lips lingered, Roland hissed “Sir?” again.

  With a sigh of regret, Duncan flipped the sheet back, sat up, and stuffed his legs into his jodhpurs. Flipping open the trunk at the foot of his bed, he tossed a shirt and a pair of loose pants with a drawstring at the waist on the bed.

  “Put those on.”

  While Faelan dressed, Duncan sat on the trunk and pulled one boot on. Letting her walk out of his life was so much harder than it had been that day on the barge.

  “Aimery?”

  A pair of slender bare feet came into his line of sight. He glanced up, dropping the boot from his suddenly slack fingers. A wave of possessiveness hit him. She looked better in his clothes than he ever had. He caught her slim hips between his hands and pulled her closer until she stood between his thighs.

  Faelan’s fingers dug tunnels through his hair, twining together at the back of his neck. Time stopped. They just stared at each other. Duncan felt the sappy grin on his face reflected in her eyes. He could stare at Faelan forever and think himself blessed.

  “Sir, the dawn.”

  The boy’s desperate plea broke the spell.

  Duncan turned his head toward the sound. “One moment, please, Roland.”

  Faelan drew her fingers along his stubbly jaw. “I like this dangerous new look you’re sporting. I never got a chance to tell you.”

  Duncan caught her hands, pressed them flat on his chest. “Will you do something for me—without asking questions?”

  She studied his face for what felt like an age but was, he knew, only a second or two.

  “Ask your favor, Aimery.”

  Butterflies took flight in his stomach. Ashes. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. Her sensual drawl made it a caress. Flipping open his little treasure box, he stripped off the green ribbon binding his sister’s letters.

  “I want you to move your tent as far from the river as possible, and when battle comes, I want you to tie this ribbon to your tent pole. Do not go out onto the field. Keep tight inside your tent. Will you do that for me?”

  The emotion flickering across Faelan’s face told him she was dying to question him, but she nodded. A bit of green ribbon was poor protection to offer his beloved. Duncan had never felt more impotent in his life.

  He finished dressing while Faelan sat on the edge of his bed winding the green ribbon around her finger and unwinding it. When he was ready, he offered her his hand. “Promise me?”

  Faelan felt a familiar hot tingle as she slipped her hand into Duncan’s hand. Dear An
cestor! She couldn’t even touch his hand without becoming aroused. Judging by the sudden spark in his hot sapphire eyes, he felt the same way. Staring into his eyes, mesmerized, she had a sudden vision of prey paralyzed by a great predator, yet she felt only mounting excitement.

  Shaking off the powerful vision, Faelan leaned into him, kissed his lush mouth, and whispered, “I promise.”

  In response, Duncan crushed her to his chest as if he wanted to pull her inside himself.

  “Sir?”

  The cadet’s voice had edged from desperation into panic verging on hysteria.

  Faelan moaned as Duncan raised his head from another deep almost violent kiss, her lips already mourning the loss of his fire.

  He stepped back with tangible reluctance. “Give us another moment, Roland.”

  The exaggerated sigh from the outer tent made Faelan giggle.

  “Meaning no disrespect, sir, you said that, ten minutes ago. I would gladly wait all day, but dawn won’t.”

  Duncan glanced at the toes of his boots for a heartbeat, raised his gaze to hers, and caught his full lower lip between his teeth. He offered her his arm. “We are found out, my lady. Let us sally forth and save what dignity we may.”

  The moment they appeared, Roland handed Faelan the raincoat and boots he’d been holding, and bowed. “Good morning, sir, Miss Faelan. Put these on and I’ll row you across the river.”

  Duncan took the raincoat from Faelan and held up so she could slip her arms into it. “I will see Faelan home, Roland.”

  “No, you won’t. Just stop and think for a minute—think with the big Duncan.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Faelan swore the temperature in the tent rose by at least ten degrees. She grabbed Duncan’s arm afraid the always calm field marshal was about to somehow incinerate his cadet.

  As for Roland, whatever he saw in Duncan’s face cause the blood to leave his face in a white rush, but to the boy’s credit, he didn’t backup. He didn’t back down either.

  “Sir, I apologize to you and to Miss Faelan. I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but I also know two cadets can leave your tent and walk down to the river without anyone raising an eyebrow. You can’t.”