by Arial Burnz
He threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound vibrating through her body. After his bout of laughter, he repeated his question. “Something must vex you so, Davina.”
“Nothing you should know.” Her body began to tire from her constant wrestling.
“Ah, but I would very much like to know.” His mouth descended upon hers, but she at least had enough freedom to dodge him.
She stopped fighting, her breath ragged. “Release me.”
“I sense a bit of jealousy, Davina.”
Heat crept into Davina’s cheeks. “Certainly not!” she denied, even though she knew very well he could divine the truth.
“There is nothing between the lass and myself,” he supplied. “In spite of what you saw.”
Davina remained silent, willing away the torrent of jealousy and humiliation eating through her insides. She avoided his gaze by taking an interest in the oil lamp hanging on an iron frame.
“But why you should even care is beyond me,” he breathed against her ear.
Though very entrancing, she resisted his spell. “I care not.” More heat stole into her face, for even though she knew he could read her thoughts, she remained stoical as her final act of defiance.
Broderick released her, the humor gone from his eyes, and bowed with apparent respect. “Then I’m mistaken, milady, and you’re free to go.” Turning as if he lost interest in the subject, he sat back down at his table and crossed his arms.
Davina stood dumbfounded, not ready for this response. She expected him to continue fighting with her, pursuing her, handling her.
Broderick raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Davina. Why are you here?”
She stood perplexed at the simple question she had barely been able to answer herself.
“To have your palm read?”
“Nay, I…” Her voice trailed off, all of the energy and reasons leaving her in a rush.
“I don’t make it a habit to read someone’s palm more than once.” His iron gaze belied the casual conversation he attempted.
“Then I shall bother you no more,” she whispered and turned to leave.
“Pray, say something to me, Davina.” A great deal of emotion laced his voice, as if he struggled to maintain control over something lying just beneath the surface.
She faced him. “How do you do it?” Her voice constricted and, to her surprise, she blinked back prickling tears. Clearing her throat, she pushed through her apprehension. “How do you go on after such a great loss?”
“Honestly, I’ve not explored it myself.” He motioned for her to sit across from him.
Davina hesitated, but not wanting to seem disrespectful, now that Broderick made efforts to open up to her with his invitation, she pushed through her fears and sat down.
Broderick sighed. “I know not how much I can help you, Davina. ‘Tis much grief and underlying hate you hold inside. I’ve sensed them; heard fleeting thoughts about them, but you close your mind up like a steel trap.” He leaned forward and held out his hand. “If you let them go, if you allow yourself to feel this pain so I may also feel it, I might be able to give you some answers.”
Broderick offered his hand.
Chapter Ten
He could hear some of her internal struggle, but at this moment, panic dominated the battle raging inside her, and almost drowned out any other thoughts. He could sense she feared opening up to him, but he also sensed a fear of him and some confusion over what Broderick was—flashes of the silver glow in his eyes peeking through the cacophony of emotions. He cringed and tried to maintain an inviting and encouraging presence.
“Let me help you, Davina,” he whispered.
Davina implored him with her eyes. She darted her attention from his hand to his face and back again. Finally, she stretched out her trembling hand, and Broderick released his breath at last.
He closed his eyes. Flashes of the night Broderick pursued her on horseback rushed through his mind as soon as he touched her skin. Images of his dark figure chasing her through the forest assaulted him, and a gripping terror coursed through his arms, followed by his own remorse. “I’m sorry to have frightened you so that night,” he offered, his voice raspier than he expected. Visions of a menacing man invaded his mind. He recognized this man as the one he envisioned when he tasted Davina’s blood from her dagger. “Who is this man? Is this who you thought of when I pursued you?”
When she tried to answer, he understood she had trouble speaking over her emotions.
Just answer me by thinking, Davina, he communicated, implanting his thoughts into her mind.
Her brows raised in surprise. After a moment, the tension eased from her body. Thank you. She inhaled deeply. Aye, he’s the man I thought of when you chased me, but the thought was irrational.
Why is that?
Because he’s dead.
Broderick tried to soothe Davina by rubbing her palm, massaging her flesh with the warm oil on the table, confident relaxing her would be the key to getting the information about Angus. However, that proved to illicit provocative images. Davina’s thoughts went to their romantic struggle after he’d pulled her from her horse. Just as Broderick opened his mouth to warn her of straying to an erotic subject, a tremor vibrated through his body as Davina relived the sensation of his fingers touching the wet folds between her legs.
A tortured moan escaped him and Broderick swept around the table, pulling Davina into his arms. She stood breathless before him, clinging to him, with pleading eyes and full lips quivering and tempting. He came close to claiming her lips, but hesitated, trying to gain control of his urges. “Davina,” he breathed against her mouth. “If you share such thoughts with me, I cannot be responsible for my actions.”
Her cheeks colored and she stammered as he gazed into her eyes. He swooned from the intoxicating effect of her swirling emotions on his senses—desire, excitement, fear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came forth. I am so very sorry. I—
Sitting down, his own legs almost too weak to stand, he set her upon his lap. He composed himself enough to ask with amusement in his voice, “Are you going to behave?”
Davina cleared her throat and tried to stand, but he wouldn’t let her. This lighter subject at least allowed her to find her voice. “How can I behave, sir, if you won’t let me up from such a provocative position?”
Her loitering in the jesting mood encouraged him to carry on their intimate game, and he still refused to release her.
“Broderick, must our encounters always turn amorous?” she teased.
He chuckled. “I must confess, dear lady, I can think of naught else when I hold you.” What was it about this woman’s voice that undulated through his body and had his cock leaping to attention? Even now, as she strained to get up, her bottom rubbed against the sensitive head. “Need I remind you—you started this with those explicit images.”
She tried to rise for a second time, but couldn’t yield against his strength, and giggled. “Please, I promise to behave.”
Just as he was about to let her up, a deep grumble filled the tent as someone cleared their throat with a great, loud effort. Davina gasped and pushed away from Broderick, wanting to leap out of his embrace. But, Broderick made that a difficult task with his arms around her, holding her tight against his lap.
Broderick smiled at their visitor. “‘Tis good to see you again, sir, but as you can see, I have another client.”
Davina gasped. “Mr. Samuels! What a…” She seemed to flounder for the right words in this awkward situation. “Pleasant surprise.” Davina put her hands to her flushed face at seeing one of the townsfolk from Strathbogie.
An uncomfortable Mr. Samuels wrung his hat with his hairy-knuckled hands. “Mistress Davina.” He also seemed at a loss for words. “‘Tis good to see you, milady. I’m begging your pardon, Broderick. I heard nothin’ inside and I saw no one outside of the tent, so I ventured in.”
Without appearing to struggle, Broderick felt Davina c
ontinue to push against his arms, but he still held her tight. “This session will conclude in just a moment, sir,” Broderick said calmly, and as if nothing unusual were happening. “Would you like to bide by the fire until I call for you?” Please take my suggestion and leave! His distress grew as Davina continued to struggle in his lap, rubbing her delightful bottom against his arousal.
“Nay, sir! I won’t trouble you. I just wanted to tell you everything you said last week is comin’ true, and I came to thank you.” Mr. Samuels tried very hard to avoid eye contact with Davina. Embarrassment colored his cheeks, matching his thoughts about the awkwardness of catching them in this intimate encounter.
“You found the woman you’re to marry? So soon, Mr. Samuels?”
“Oh, Clyde, please. And aye, the perfect woman, sir! We met eight years ago and then lost touch for a couple of seasons. She just came back into my life. ‘Tis amazing how the perfect woman was right under me nose, a friend and someone dear to me family. I was blind not to see it until now. We wish to be wed in the spring and plan on havin’ a few wee bairn!” Caught up in the news of his new family, he seemed to relinquish the awkward situation.
“Glad to hear it, Clyde! Congratulations!” Broderick did not stand to shake his hand.
“Thank you, sir!” He stepped forward, but stopped as if seeing Davina for the first time. The nervous energy returned and he inched forward as if hedging toward a wild animal, ready to bite if he stepped any closer. He extended his hand with hesitation and gave Broderick a small sack. Broderick tried to refuse, but Clyde insisted. “‘Tis showing you me gratitude.”
Broderick reluctantly stretched his hand to receive the donation, still trying to keep Davina in his lap to conceal his erection, the bag jingling as if filled with coins. Clyde bowed his way out of the tent and left them to their intimate moment.
Davina struggled to get up, and this time he let her go without a fight. “What in blazes were you thinking to keep me locked to your lap like some tavern wench!” she hissed.
Broderick smiled, tossed the sack of coins onto the table, and stood with his hands on his hips. “Well, dear lady, I very well couldn’t stand in my current condition.” Broderick glanced at his loins and winked.
Her eyes traveled down and locked onto the very obvious arousal pushing against his trews. Her hand went to her cheek and her eyes flew back up to Broderick’s face.
“I would have been very glad to let you up once my…well…member went down, but you kept wiggling your sweet little bottom against it. You left me no choice.” He crossed his arms and grinned with satisfaction.
Davina stood speechless. Broderick heard the rambling of her thoughts. She didn’t know if her cheeks were on fire from the embarrassment of being caught on his lap by an upstanding citizen of their community, or from the fire burning between her legs at the sight of Broderick’s obvious arousal, or a combination of both. She stood there, stunned.
Davina flitted her gaze to various points of interest around the tent, fighting to keep her eyes from straying down to view his enlarged groin. That didn’t do anything to help him ease the tension in his breeches, so Broderick put the barrier of the table between them.
This act brought her back to her senses, but not her jovial mood. Davina stepped back and crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. “I…I…” She sighed, exasperated. Too flustered to continue, Davina dashed out of the tent.
Broderick hung his head in defeat. He had been so close to convincing her to open up! Why couldn’t he control his urges around her? Never had a woman affected him the way Davina did. Broderick rose from his chair and paced the tiny space. He was an adolescent around her, his groin rearing its head every time she came near. Even now he cursed his still-present arousal.
Raking his rigid fingers through his hair, he inhaled deeply and steadied his nerves, trying to recover something from the evening. New information had come to light. The man she was afraid of, she said, was dead. This Ian, he assumed, putting all of the pieces together. But who was he? Her father? A lover? He knew it wasn’t her brother. His name was Kehr.
Nothing more came to mind for Broderick. He needed answers, but every time he came close to Davina, he lost his senses. This task proved most impossible!
* * * * *
“Come, Davina,” Rosselyn said, coaxing Davina out of sleep. “‘Tis time to break our fast.” She placed the tray of food onto the trestle table by the double doors, nursing a giddy excitement in her breast of the day to come. Winter made a grand entrance overnight, and she itched to share it with Davina. This turn of the weather would give her and Davina much needed time together before she set off on her new life with Nicabar. She feared, though, these days would go faster than she wanted, and Rosselyn grabbed tight to any moment she could before the Gypsies were off to the next settlement in their route. As much as she dreaded to think upon the weighing responsibility, she also needed this time to tell Davina her secret.
With the winter nights getting longer, the sun had not yet risen this early in the morning, so Rosselyn set about the chamber lighting candles and starting a fire in the hearth. The amber glow of the room warmed the atmosphere. “If we dress right for our meal,” Rosselyn offered cheerfully, “and put a blanket over our laps, we can arrange to sit on the terrace. ‘Tis a bonnie sight this morn.”
Davina considered the oriel window. “Oh, why is that?”
Rosselyn drew back the heavy curtains and opened the double doors, breathing in deep the crisp morning air. Torches lit the courtyard so the morning chores could be seen to. The yellow flames created a sparkling vision on the knee-deep snow, blanketing the landscape surrounding the castle. Davina gasped.
“Looks as if the Gypsies—”
“Aye, Roz, I know.” Davina diverted away from the doors with a frown and hunkered at the table. “‘Tis too cold to have the doors open. Please close them.”
Rosselyn’s spirits plummeted at the foul mood the weather put Davina in. She sighed and did as her mistress wished. Pulling up the other chair, she spoke with concern in her voice. “We haven’t spoken much with each other as of late.” Rosselyn’s heart pounded.
Davina turned a puzzled mien upon her. “We speak every day, Roz. What—?”
Rosselyn placed a hand upon Davina’s shoulder. “Private talk, between friends. You once told me often of your dreams of marrying Broderick.”
Davina switched her attention to her trencher of bread and cheese as Rosselyn continued pressing the matter.
“Now that he’s here, ‘tis in your own world you are.”
When Rosselyn paused, Davina cast her a sideways glance.
“Does he not fancy you?”
Davina rolled her eyes and went back to her food. “Oh, ‘tis very obvious he is about how he fancies me.”
“Then why—?”
“Once that man beds me, Roz, I will never see him again.”
“Has he not displayed any signs of affection?” Rosselyn gripped Davina’s shoulder. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“Nay, he hasn’t. That’s not a great concern for me.” Davina fell silent, seemingly mulling thoughts about inside her head.
“What has he done that has you believe he wouldn’t want more than a bedding?”
Davina seemed more ardent about this topic. “The first night he returned, he handled me like a tavern wench!” Her cheeks flushed. Whether out of embarrassment or anger, Rosselyn couldn’t tell.
“How did you imagine your first encounter would be?” Rosselyn had an idea of why Davina was so disappointed, but wanted her to voice it.
She opened her mouth, but no words came forth, and then she closed her lips. Davina sighed. “They were childish fantasies to be sure, but…” She picked at her cheese, uncharacteristically apprehensive. Rosselyn knew, however, between the two of them, a more timid and childlike Davina often emerged. Though she only had two years on Davina, she knew her friend relied on her as an older, wiser confidant.
“
I remember how you envisioned the reunion when you were younger—”
“In spite of that, Roz,” Davina interrupted, “he still should not have handled me in such a way.” Davina implored Rosselyn with her eyes. “He pretended he didn’t recognized me, and I found out later he did. His behavior is so very confusing. He kisses me like a man starving, and then pushes away from me as if he made a dreadful mistake.”
Relief eased the tension from Rosselyn’s body. At least they kissed. That was a good sign! Yet, Davina seemed self-absorbed in these matters. “Are you not behaving just as contrarily? Have you told him how much he has meant to you over the years? Have you shared your heart with him?”
Davina gasped. “I cannot do such a thing! He would surely stomp on it as soon as I exposed my true feelings!”
“Why are you so certain?”
She opened her mouth once more and closed it, her bottom lip trembling. Tears glistened in her eyes under the warm glow of the hearth.
“Out of concern for you,” Rosselyn ventured, “because of what you have been through and the size Broderick is, I’ve inquired about his nature. I’ve asked many of my new friends at the Gypsy camp—people who have spent almost fourteen years living with him—about Broderick’s demeanor, asking if I should have any valid concerns for your safety in his hands. All of them—and I stress all of them—have laughed at the notion of Broderick ever doing harm to you. I’ve heard many reports about his jovial nature, his light-heartedness, and his ease at taking everything with a sense of humor.”
“Rosselyn.” Davina’s voice sounded most serious. “There are things about Broderick you don’t know, things you don’t understand.”
Rosselyn crossed her arms. “I’ve also heard a few people mention a darker side of Broderick, but that has always been in the context of his being fiercely protective of those he loves. Methinks that’s what you’re seeing. Possibly, he too is afraid you will stomp on his heart if he shares it with you.”
“Rosselyn, you just—”
“You are making excuses, Davina.” She placed her palm alongside Davina’s face. “I know you want to love again. I know you want to love Broderick. After all the years you have invested your heart in this man, now that you have him, you’re finding excuses not to rush in. I understand you’re cautious, but you cannot guard your heart the way you do.” Davina’s lips trembled, and tears dropped from her eyes as she closed them, making it difficult for Rosselyn to keep the emotion from her voice. “My sweet friend, falling in love is allowing yourself to be vulnerable enough to open your heart. Love is taking risks. If you want the love you have been dreaming of for so long, you must be willing to get hurt. I know the way you love him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Do not let this chance pass by. You will regret it forever.”