Moss Rose

by Scottie Barrett

  At the feel of her moist heat penetrating his breeches, he growled huskily, "Angel eyes, do you have any idea what you do to me?" He lifted her higher, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he unfastened his breeches, dropping them to his ankles. His fingers dipped into her, stroking her tight, slick sheath, duplicating the rhythm of his tongue in her mouth. She was clinging desperately to him, rubbing her breasts against the silken skin of his chest. Cradling her bottom, he held her temporarily suspended before he brought her down, with devastating slowness, on his hard length until he filled her completely. She spasmed around him instantly, lost in exquisite ecstasy.

  He held himself very still, pressing his forehead against hers. "What's this?"

  Feeling a bit embarrassed at her swift climax, she refused to meet his gaze. "Welcome home?" she offered.

  He laughed with satisfaction and then dipped his head to suck her bottom lip. When she climaxed again after several more deep thrusts, she giggled nervously against his chest. "I told you I missed you, love."

  "I'm convinced."

  Chapter 29

  Jensen stretched lazily out in bed, watching her husband's solid back muscles slide rhythmically over each other as he leaned forward to brush off his boots. A gentle breeze from the open balcony swept through his long black hair. She smiled, thinking she had never been happier. She hopped up and kneeled behind him, embracing him, as she pressed her breasts to his smooth brown back.

  "You're up sleepy head," Levi said as he took her hand and lightly kissed her palm.

  Jensen leaned back on her heels and began weaving tiny braids in his hair. "Sleepy head? It seems like the one thing we haven't been doing is sleeping," she replied, tugging gently on his hair.

  He reached back to feel what she had been doing with his hair and laughed. "Are you grooming me like one of your horses? Next you'll be adorning me with tiny pink bows."

  "Ooh, that reminds me." Jensen jumped up and snatched on her work clothes. "The stud from the Woodhaven Farm is coming today, and I want the brood mares to look their best."

  Levi shrugged on his shirt. "You don't actually think a heated up stallion is going to care whether or not the mares look presentable."

  "Well, why not? Wouldn't you prefer a fancied-up mate?"

  "Me, why I'd take her covered head to toe in dirt." He grabbed her and gave her a hard kiss. "In fact, it seems like I often do."

  Jensen took a pillow from the bed and hurled it at his head. He snatched it from the air. "By the way, Duff, I think Mal's coming out to the plantation in a day or two."

  "Thanks for the warning. I'll have cook double all her recipes," she laughed and shut the door behind her.

  ***

  "Blast it, Sully, do you got to spit that junk so close to me? It damn near landed on my boots."

  Sully spat out another wad of tobacco and swiped his mouth with the back of his tattered, spit-stained sleeve. "Why don't you just shut your trap? I'll spit wherever and whenever I see fit to do so. Besides, with the shape those boots are in, a wad of my chewed up tobacca would only make 'em look better."

  Derek sat down in the wet leaves with a thud. "You are about as funny as a--"

  Sully grabbed Derek's arm. "Dummy up. I hear something."

  Derek pushed his long, stringy hair out of his eyes and peeked over the shrubbery concealing them from the trail. "Why, it ain't nothing but a damn squirrel, you fool. Sit down and relax, we could be here for hours yet."

  "Some job you got us this time. We've been out here for three days, and we haven't seen a soul yet." Sully sat himself on his bedroll and began picking at his yellowed teeth with an even yellower thumbnail.

  "That Englishman said we'd know the bastard when we saw him. A giant with long, black hair and a feather tattooed on his arm."

  "Now that's a handy piece of information. I suppose we're going to ask him to take off his shirt before we clobber him."

  "Well, that's all the dandified fool told me."

  "Where in hell did you meet him, anyways? Those stone-cold eyes and that pale, yellow hair. The bastard gives me the goosebumps."

  "I don't care if he's got green hair and horns, as long as he's got the blunt to back up his offer." Derek picked up the solid plank of wood that rested near his leg. He smacked it into the hedge, simultaneously aping the sound of a crushing skull.

  The sound of pine needles crunching beneath plodding hooves brought the men to a predatory crouch. The hulking shadow of the rider filtered through the web of low hanging tree branches.

  "Why, he's a bleedin' . . . ."

  "Shhh, you fool--that's him alright--just look at that tattoo." Derek mopped the sweat from his upper-lip.

  Sully readied the long plank. As the rider passed, he lunged from his hiding. The loud thwack and the agonizing groan of pain were absorbed by the dense foliage.

  The rider spun to face his attackers, only to receive another hard blow to the side of his head. His limp, lifeless body fell to the dirt.

  ***

  Jensen removed her scarf and shook out her hair so that it could catch the cooling breeze. She hurried the horse grooming, deciding it was far too fine a day to stay shut up in the stables. Even Ginger took advantage of the mild weather, loping off toward the woods to terrorize the squirrels and wood grouse.

  After walking a distance, Jensen glanced back toward the stables, now a long way off, to assure herself that Mr. Smathers hadn't arrived yet with the stallion.

  Spotting some wild strawberries along the roadside, she crouched down to pluck a few.

  She heard a slight sound. "Ginger, is that you? I hope you haven't been . . . ." The height of the shadow looming over her made her smile. "Levi." She turned so quickly, she was temporarily thrown off balance from her crouched position. She jolted upwards as she stared into a frighteningly familiar face. Her voice caught in her throat.

  "What's the matter, Jensen? Aren't you pleased to see me?" Brant's voice was menacing in its softness. "Do say something, my pet. I did just travel across an entire ocean to get here. I was hoping for a far more enthusiastic welcome."

  Jensen backed up, catching the heel of her boot on a thick patch of strawberries. Frantically, she pulled it loose and turned to run, but his hands were on her instantly. He roughly spun her to face him. His cold, deliberate appraisal of her body sent a chill slithering up her spine.

  "Why, Jensen, honey." His face was so close now she could smell his breath, it reeked of whiskey and revenge. "Is that anyway to look at the man you once loved?"

  "I never loved you. I don't even think that I ever liked you. The very thought of you leaves a bitter taste in my mouth."

  "Mayhap, I should sweeten those lips." He yanked her closer, gripping her arms with such viciousness she felt as if her bones might snap. His lips smothered her scream.

  As he pulled away, she screamed again with what little breath was left her. She wasn't quick enough to duck his hand. The slap was brutal, and she would have fallen sideways, if not for his vise-like hold on her arm.

  "You're wasting your breath." A hideous grin spread across his face. "Your precious husband can't hear you. Chances are, he can't hear anything anymore."

  Icy dread squeezed her heart. "God, what have you done?"

  "Heavens, Jensen," he chuckled, his eyes glittered with mirth. "You don't actually think I dirtied my own hands with the villain's black-blood, do you? 'Twas simple enough to hire some men to take care of it for me."

  "Bloody liar! I don't believe you!" she sobbed, slamming her fist into his chest with her free hand.

  "You slut," he bellowed and threw her to the ground.

  ***

  With a knee to her stomach, he trussed her like a deer before slinging her over a horse. Her cheek chafed against the strap of the iron as they traversed a rough path. Thankfully, unconsciousness soon put her out of her misery.

  Hands and feet still bound, she found herself lying face up on a cot so worn she could feel its support give way with each of
her slight movements. She stared up, the blue sky showed through the holes in the roof, and she wondered if it was the same day. She wriggled into a sitting position. The pounding in her head was minor compared to the agonizing ache in her heart. She could still smell Levi on her skin.

  Scanning the hovel, she found no trace of Brant. With both hands she pulled the dagger from her boot, using her teeth to remove the leather sheath. Hurriedly, she began sawing on the ropes binding her feet. She'd only sliced through one rope when Brant ducked into the open doorway.

  He tossed something onto the cot by her feet. A long lock of raven-black hair. "I thought it a shame there wasn't a bit of scalp attached. And yet," he said staring at her, "this seems to have made enough of an impression. Why you look positively green, darling."

  "Murderous coward," she screamed. "Don't take another step." She put the point to her throat.

  An almost charming smile creased his face. "Well this is an interesting twist. Shouldn't I be the one holding the knife? Do not tell me North meant so much to you that you would actually take your own life."

  "I'm going to make this very easy for you. I don't have a reason for living without him."

  He lurched forward, and she started to push the blade in. Instead of falling on her, he crashed to the floor. Levi's black boot cracked against the back of his head, rendering him out cold.

  Stunned, Jensen froze, until tears of relief tumbled down her cheek.

  "Thomas, a rope?" Levi yelled out the door. He turned, his eyes meeting hers. "Everything's alright now, Duff," he reassured her, but his voice seemed shaky.

  Thomas tossed him the rope and remained standing watch at the door.

  Wasting no time, Levi rapidly secured Brant's hands behind his back. "That was quite a performance. You really caught the bastard off guard. You almost had me believing that I meant that much to you. The part with the dagger was inspired." Moving to the cot, he took the knife from her, and, with a flick of his wrist, cut through the ropes binding her feet and hands. He stilled suddenly staring at the bloodstained knife. He paled under his tanned skin as he lifted his eyes to her throat. "My God!" His hand flew immediately to her neck, putting pressure on the wound.

  She jerked her head back. "Stop. 'Tis only a nick."

  "Is your hate for him so great you would do this to yourself?" His expression turned to ice. "I'll kill him."

  She launched herself off the bed and clung to his neck. "'Tis my love for you that is so great. I thought I'd lost you."

  "You love me, little mouse?"

  "I've always loved you, you big, bloody fool." She was so certain the sentiment wasn't returned she paused only for a heartbeat before plunging on. "How did you find me?"

  "I've become quite an expert at finding you," he replied dryly.

  Taking her hands from his neck, she dropped to the floor and picked up the hank of hair, holding it up for his inspection.

  "Poor Malaton. They ambushed him on the road to Moss Rose. He's moaning more about his hair than the lumps on his head." His fingers touched her throat again, testing the cut, as though he was assuring himself it was truly minor.

  Arming Thomas with his pistol, he left him to guard Brant. On the ride home, he clutched her tight to him, but he did not say a word. It was a forbidding silence.

  Matthias opened the door for them, rushing to give Jensen a hug.

  "Am I the only one who sees that this girl is nothing but trouble?" came Regina's shrill greeting. "And now, because of her, that damned savage is bloodying up the sheets in the guest room."

  "Regina, don't you have a home?" Matthias said in an ominously calm voice.

  She sputtered. "Matty, what are you saying?"

  "Go home, Regina." Matthias's implication was so obvious Jensen beat a hasty retreat, hoping to avoid the coming storm. Levi was hard on her heels.

  After shutting the bedchamber door behind them, he rested his head back on the door. It was the first time she had ever seen him look vulnerable. "Christ, Jensen. If I had been a minute later getting to you . . . ."

  "'Tis over. Let it be."

  He pushed himself off the door. "The woman I love to distraction nearly kills herself, and I'm expected to take it calmly," he thundered. "You will never do anything like that again."

  Thrilling to his words, she threw her arms around his neck, lifted her face, and kissed his sulky lips. "If you say so, Master North."

  "Another thing." He yanked the leather thong over his head and pulled the knot loose with his teeth. "You will wear this." He slid the ring onto her finger. "Always," he added with fierce emphasis.

  "If I must," she replied with the sweetest smile.