by Carly Fall
Finally, they reached the stall of one of the women who sold cloth. As they stepped inside, the shop keep smiled and bowed to Arabella.
The princess’ face lit up with the smile that came straight from her heart. She obviously felt more comfortable with those selling their wares than her royal family, as he'd never seen her so happy to lay her gaze on one of her cousins, or an aunt. “Constance! It is so nice to see you!”
“You as well, Your Grace. Please allow me to show you the new material that has just arrived.”
“How lovely!”
After Constance took out her new fabrics, he watched as Arabella’s slender fingers caressed the fine materials. She chatted amicably with the woman, asking her where the silk and velvet had come from, then inquired about the woman’s family as if they were old friends.
Glancing around the store, he hated that he’d fallen in love with her, that she needed him. This would be so much easier if she had the awful temperament of most nobles, instead of the kind nature of most of his stature. He wouldn’t be tortured by his dreams, his heart wouldn’t pound in his chest at her smile, and he wouldn’t want to kiss her again.
He sighed. The kiss had almost brought him to his knees, and he had thought of little else since.
“What do you think of this one?” she asked, turning to him.
As their gazes met, he could see she truly cared about his opinion. He knew nothing about fine fabrics like the one she held, but the fact that she bothered to ask him warmed his soul.
She held out the long swath of white, shimmering silk, and he imagined it against her skin, realizing nothing would ever look horrible on her. “It is lovely, Princess.”
Grinning at him, she paid the woman and said her goodbyes with promises of returning soon, and they began the walk back to the castle.
That night, he sat at the long table with the rest of the knights. When Arabella entered the room, he stood, but couldn’t hide his gasp.
She wore her long blue gown, the beautiful, unmarred skin of her shoulders and chest on display. The cloth she’d purchased earlier was wrapped around her shoulders, almost as if she wore a shawl. He’d been right—the stark white color of the silk only made her skin look more desirable.
She did not wear a kirtle, which he found surprising as most of the noble women did. It appeared she also hadn’t spent much time on her hair, as she didn’t carry any of the extravagant or intricate styles he’d seen on many of the women tonight. Instead, she opted to leave it hanging down her back.
Her simple dress and hair caused her to become the center of attention, and he wondered if that had been the intended effect, or if she’d attempted to make herself look less desirable.
As she moved down the center aisle to her place at the high table, he joined the other knights to bow at her presence. He glanced up just soon enough to catch her eye, and as her brow creased tightly, he saw that she fretted about this night.
“Sir Jayden,” she greeted, her lips curled up into a genuine smile, one that he knew was only for him.
“Good evening, Princess. You look lovely tonight.”
He thought he saw tears brim in her eyes before she spoke.
“Thank you.”
She stared at him a second longer, and then turned to the next knight, the grin gone. “And how do you fare this evening, Sir Whelan?”
Jayden glanced over at his fellow knight as jealousy railed within him, even though he knew she only talked to Whelan to mask that she had spoken to him.
“I am well, Princess. Thank you for your inquiry. You are a picture of beauty tonight.”
He watched as she moved down the aisle and greeted a few more people before taking her place at the high table next to her father. Once she was seated, they all took their chairs.
“You shouldn’t stare at the princess like that.”
He turned to Whelan, not realizing he’d been so obvious.
“If the prince sees you, he’ll have your head.”
Sighing, he reached for his ale and took a long drink. When he glanced up at her once more, their gazes locked across the hall. She seemed forlorn, her lips pressed together in a thin line, a look he recognized when she considered the prince finding her a husband. He longed to take her from this hall, ensconcing her from the eyes of any man but him. The prince leaned over and whispered in her ear. She stared at Jayden a bit longer, then lowered her eyes to the table, nodding at her father’s words.
A bowl of soup and a buttered roll was served, and as he ate, he decided he couldn’t stay around to watch her any longer. Yet, he couldn’t appear rude by leaving too early, so he had to time his departure just right.
No, he simply couldn’t sit among his fellow knights and observe the prince try to find a pairing for his daughter. The thought caused him great pain and only made him want to wield his sword and slaughter every other man in the great hall.
* * *
“This is Jayden,” Bella said, bringing him out of his reverie.
Damon extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
He took the man’s hand and fought the urge to break his fingers. “Yes. I’m just visiting.”
The last thing he wanted was to extend this conversation any further by telling Damon he actually held the title of Angel of Death, although it could be fun to watch the man squirm at his revelation. However, he did see the same thing he felt in the man’s eyes—jealousy. He couldn’t help but grin at the realization that he would be going home with Bella, and Damon wouldn’t. Yes, it was petty, but it still brought him great satisfaction.
He glanced at Bella, and she gave him a strange look. Had his feelings been so obvious?
“Thanks, again, Damon. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Bella. And thanks for filling me in on what’s going on around here. Only four more days to go, and hopefully, we can get back to our normal lives. It would be nice not having to look over my shoulder for vampires and witches. Nice to meet you, Jayden.”
As they walked out of the square, the sun began to set. “We better get back to the house.”
Bella nodded absentmindedly, and he longed to know what preoccupied her thoughts.
He just hoped it wasn’t Damon.
13
The next night, Bella stared out into the dark street from her bedroom, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Today, they’d practiced her weapons training in the forest again, and her back and arms ached. When they came home, she’d had some soup, then decided to go to bed. She waited for Ulric, and the thought of facing him scared her to death. Why didn’t he come to her? Why had he waited so long? She didn’t know what was worse—the anticipation of him making an appearance, or the gut-wrenching fear that he would.
The sexual tension between her and Jayden had only grown, and each time he’d touched her to correct her form today, she’d flushed from head to toe. Yes, the angel was amazingly good-looking with his dark hair and ebony eyes, but it was more than that. It didn’t seem to be new attraction. She’d felt that before when dating—that giddy feeling when she kissed someone, or the nervousness of sleeping with a man for the first time.
None of that existed.
Instead, the attraction had a familiarity to it, one she didn’t understand. The more she thought about it, the more she was around him, she simply couldn’t deny that she and Jayden had been together before.
If only she could remember.
A man walked down the street, and her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t make out his features, and she wondered if it could be Ulric. A moment later, just as she was about to call for Jayden, a pack of wolves pounced on him and he fought them off. She caught a glimpse of his fangs in the streetlights, then he took off running down the road. The wolves followed him, the black one, whom she recognized as Celestria, in the lead.
She sighed, wondering how she’d become so accustomed to seeing vampires and wolves fight and not become upset in the least
bit.
Closing her eyes, she wished she could sleep, but adrenaline continued to course through her body, not allowing her to relax.
Finally, she lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts returning to Jayden. Yes, he definitely felt familiar to her, and he had since the first time she’d seen him. But, did she believe in reincarnation? She had a hard time wrapping her mind around the idea that this was her second life, but then again, she’d never believed in vampires before, either.
Suddenly, the room began to change. She briefly shut her eyes as her ceiling became wavy, almost as if she gazed at it from underwater. As she opened them, her walls became stone, adorned with large tapestries of red, gold, and green depicting pictures of animals and trees. A small fire burned in the fireplace in the corner. Her mattress softened beneath her and morphed into a four-poster bed, and she gasped at the transformation.
* * *
Slowly, she sat up in her bed centered against the main wall of the room, shivering at the cool night air upon her skin. A small table covered with bottles and brushes stood in a corner, while a changing curtain hung from another. It all seemed so … archaic. She looked down at her body clothed in a simple chemise, then ran a hand over her breast to her stomach and noticed her hips seemed a bit wider. Had she somehow been transported back to her old life?
Worry and fear cascaded through her, and she realized these weren’t her own emotions at the present time. Could she been feeling what the Arabella of the fourteenth century had experienced?
She rose from the bed and began pacing the room, an action she had absolutely no control over. As she glanced at the door, her heart raced and tears pricked her eyes.
Picking up her bedrobe from the blankets, she quickly slipped it on. With a deep breath, she walked over to the door. Opening it, she found Jayden lying on a cot much too small for his large frame. As she stared at his sleeping form, shadows flickered over his handsome face from the torch mounted on the wall. He rested on his back, his large shoulders hanging over the sides, his sword at arm’s length beside him. Sheer love washed through her. The intensity shocked her, but her heart beat faster, and a desperate need grew within her.
Looking up and down the hallway, she saw no one in the dim lighting.
Kneeling down, she gave his shoulder a shake.
“Jayden, please wake up.”
Feeling his bicep in her palm caused heat to roll through her, once again the longing for him so strong.
She still had no control over her actions. It seemed her two lives had been merged together, and her old self wanted her present self to sit back so she could show her her true feelings for Jayden, to experience what they’d once had together. She didn’t try to fight it.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong, Arabella?”
“I need you, Jayden,” she whispered. “Please, come into my chamber.”
His eyes widened, and he glanced around. “Arabella, I cannot do that!”
Desperation coursed through her, and she grabbed his arm again. “You have to. No one will ever know. Please.”
“What about Agnes?”
“I told her to leave me hours ago. I am far too upset to have her around.”
A moment passed, then he stood and followed her into the room. She shut the door as relief flooded through her, followed shortly by anxiety. Would she really follow through with her scandalous plan?
He took a brief glance around, his gaze lingering on the large bed. Finally, he turned to her.
“What is it, Arabella? What has you so upset?”
She couldn’t contain the tears that flowed down her cheeks, and she found it hard to breathe. “My father has made a match for me. It happened tonight at the gathering. His name is Ulric Bayton of House Cromer, Prince of Praegan. I tried to find you earlier to tell you, but you had already disappeared.”
He remained quiet for a moment, and she could see the pain in his gaze. Knowing that their time together would be coming to an end caused an assault of anger to rail through her, but the blow of utter loss in her stomach—as if someone she loved dearly had died—nearly crippled her.
Laying his hands on her shoulders, he shook his head. “I am so sorry.”
A hint of hesitation held her in place, then the need to be comforted by this man overcame her. She pressed herself into Jayden, snaking her arms around his waist.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she laid her head against his chest. They stood like that for what seemed like hours as she cried out her anger and frustration.
She heard his heart beating as he smoothed his hands over her hair. He smelled of soap and scented oils from his beard, a woodsy fragrance that reminded her of the forest.
Glancing up at him, she knew what she wanted. The need to be with him overwhelmed her as the flame of desire warmed her belly.
“Jayden.”
He looked down at her.
“Please, kiss me.”
Shaking his head and furrowing his brow, he said, “Arabella, you are to be wed.”
She took a deep breath before speaking, trying to calm her emotions. “Aye. I shall be wed to a man I’ve only met once. Not the man I’ve grown to know and love over these past weeks. When I have gone to another land, I want to take with me the memories of us, together in every way.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Arabella, we cannot do that! What of your wedding night? He will surely look for proof of your virginity. I cannot ruin you, Princess.”
Desperation to get what she desired clawed through her. She had to convince him otherwise. “I do not care. I will poke myself with a pin and bleed on the sheet, or hide a vial of animal blood and use it, if needed. I want you to have my virginity. You already have my love, Jayden. Please, take my body. Take all of me.”
She could see the hesitation in his eyes, but she also knew his longing for her was quite strong.
He smoothed his knuckles down her cheek, and she saw the war brewing within him. Would he take what he wanted so badly, even though it would be so wrong?
Just when she thought he’d step away from her and leave the room, he leaned down and their lips gently met.
“I shall burn in Hell for this,” he whispered against her mouth. “But, at least I will have known you in every way, my love.”
After he roughly pulled her against him, his mouth claimed hers again with such passion, she became light-headed. His erection pressed against her belly, and her core warmed further.
Tentatively, she pressed her hands against his chest, then pulled at the laces of his shirt. As she slipped her hand under the fabric, he moaned and his head fell back.
“Your touch is like a torch to my skin, Arabella. It sets me ablaze, and I want to be warmer. Please, don’t stop.”
She placed her other palm on his chest, nerves rattling her stomach as she caressed the sparse hairs. Yes, she wanted this, but she’d never touched a man so intimately, and didn’t know what to do.
As if he’d read her mind, he looked down at her and smiled. “Touch me how you want. I will not break. Do what feels right for you, my love.”
Feeling emboldened, she reached farther into his clothing, running her fingers over the taut tips of his nipples. The graze of her fingertips elicited a low groan from him as his body trembled. The love she saw in his gaze only mirrored what she felt in her heart. The man who was supposed to keep her out of trouble would ruin her, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
After a moment, he stepped back. “I have spent many nights recalling you without clothing. May I remove your bedrobe and chemise?”
Shuddering, she nodded, and he slowly disrobed her, his fingers caressing her bare skin as he did so. Then, he tossed the garments to the ground.
His gaze gradually raked her over from head to toe, and then finally, he looked her in the eye as his fingers gently traced her collarbone, sending another shiver through her. “You are more beautiful than I remembered, more lovely than
any fantasy I could have conjured.”
Her cheeks flamed as he took her hand and led her over to the bed. He motioned for her to slip beneath the blankets, and she did. Her heart pounded in her chest, and butterflies soared in her stomach as they gazed at each other, but he didn’t move.
“Is something wrong?”
He pulled his shirt over his head, then removed his breeches. “No. Nothing is wrong, my love. Mayhap, I believe everything is finally right.”
She’d never laid her eyes upon a naked man, and she stared at him, both terrified and excited. She took in his shoulders and chest that tapered down to a slim waist. The smattering of hair on his chest narrowed into a fine line down his stomach. His manhood jutted from his hips, proud and strong. Her nervousness grew as she stared at it; yet, so did her desire.
She moved over as he climbed into bed, his mouth finding hers as he ran his hand down her torso, over her hip, and down to her knee. As he kneaded her breast, she gasped at the sensations his caresses brought out in her. The desperate longing for him to touch her between her legs became almost painful.
Her skin tingled when he kissed her neck, and a shiver went down her spine. He latched onto her breast, his tongue swirling around the nipple, bringing it to a hardened peak, then he softly took it between his teeth. She arched her back and moaned, feeling as though she would drown in pleasure, and yet, she still needed more.
He fondled her mons, and all of her nervousness disappeared. She spread her thighs wide as he gently stroked her, a feeling building within her lower belly that she’d never experienced before. With each pass of his fingers, it became more intense, and she almost became afraid as it seemed to grow and consumed her entire being.
“What’s happening to me?” she panted.
He grinned. “Let it happen, my princess. Just let it go.”
His lips landed on hers as her body rocked against his hand. The feeling grew stronger and stronger, as if she’d explode from the inside. A moment later, he slipped a finger inside of her, his other digits still continuing their own ministrations. His kiss caught her moan as her body bucked uncontrollably against his hand. Warmth and unadulterated pleasure spread throughout her limbs in strong waves that reminded her of the sea crashing on the shoreline.