The Princess and the Marquess

by Aliyah Burke

  A woman like this didn’t come along every day. He realized that was what her father must have seen in her mother. A woman full of passion, life, adventure and love that waited for just the right man to enter into her life. Lucien wanted to be ‘the right man’—hell, he wanted to be the only man.

  He could see himself with her by his side. Children—their children—playing at his home, Heartstone. A warmth in his home that was not there now. Maybe even she could make his sister open up. If she had managed to make him realize what an ass he was, there was hope for anyone, and that included his sister.

  Which brought him back to the original problem. How to acquire her forgiveness. Lucien fell asleep by the fire and woke when it got chilly.

  He put more wood on the fire and wondered what to do about something to eat. A glance at the door showed her cloak so he was sure she was still indoors. He moved to the door of her room and was met by silent bared teeth as Faolan blocked his entry to the room. She lay prone on the bed, wrapped in quilts, silent.

  Shame cascaded through his body as he turned and went back to his bed. He dallied with his stable plans but his heart wasn’t in it. He made sure the cabin was toasty warm so the heat would make it to her room. Lucien sat and faced the flames as he stroked the cane.

  A noise behind him made him look around. Ciara had put on her cloak to take the animals outside. She didn’t even look at him. When they came back in from the cold, Kosse bounded over to him and stretched up to be scratched. He obliged him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ciara awoke in slow increments. She was still tired, emotional and physical, but she was hungrier. She looked out of the small window in the cabin, pleased that snow no longer fell. The skies were clear so she should be able to get some hunting done. She rose and dressed fast for the room was icy.

  Faolan came to her side while she put on her cloak and headed off to run her trap line. She knew she should have yesterday but she just couldn’t. Kosse followed them out. She set out across the dark yard. No matter what the weather, she loved to be outside.

  Throughout the time Kosse and Faolan ran free, she checked her traps. Most were empty—there were a few rabbits that would work for Kosse’s food. She strapped them to her waist.

  She went to her parents’ grave and cleared away the snow from the marker she had carved for them. Ciara wept on the inside for the loss of her only family. After a while, she rose and headed back to get some grain to set out for the horses. She hoped they were all right.

  The scene Ciara came back upon showed Lucien working like a man possessed. He had shoveled a path that followed the rope to the woodshed. There was one to the outhouse and even the porch was cleared. Kosse, seeing flying snow, decided to attack it and took Lucien down with a grunt.

  Ciara turned her back on the scene and went to her smaller building. A bit later he swung open the door to the shed, allowing a small shaft of natural light to enter and add to the lantern glow. Ciara leaned over a table and didn’t acknowledge him at all. She tossed the bloody chunks of meat into a bucket. Silence stretched between them as she scraped the furs clean and put them on a rack.

  When she was finished with the three rabbits she washed off the knife with some snow that was in another bucket. She picked up the lantern and both buckets and turned toward him. Her eyes flicked over him as she passed him—her body, however, pressed up against him.

  Even covered with animal parts, this woman was able to arouse him. She slid past his sweaty body and out of the door where she set down the buckets. She blew out the lantern, making sure there was no chance of remaining heat from it, and set it back inside the shed.

  She took the buckets to where the animals were. When they realized what was in them they followed her to the edge of the copse. She dumped the one with the meat on the ground for Kosse. The one that had the bloody snow she gave to Faolan. She made sure to wash out both buckets well with snow before she took them back to the shed and placed them inside the door.

  Finished, she headed for the cabin. “Good morning, Ciara.”

  The gaze that settled on him was detached. “Morning, Wolf.” She disappeared into the cabin.

  Well, that didn’t go well.

  Lucien wanted to follow her. He had to talk to her, touch her. His blood burned for her. With the wolf outside, maybe he could at least get within a foot of her.

  After a slight hesitation, he followed her inside and shut the door behind him as he entered the cabin. The smell of pancakes and frying ham hit him and made his mouth water. He hung up his coat next to hers. Everything about us looks good together, he realized.

  “Ciara. We… I need to talk to you. You don’t have to say anything, just listen.” He didn’t say please but the word was there. Implied even if not spoken.

  She stopped her work and looked at him. She waited. Silent.

  He sat down at the table. Lucien gestured to a chair and asked, “Will you sit?”

  Ciara crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter where she kept one amber eye on the cooking breakfast.

  “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” His hands threaded through his hair as he searched for the right words. She was retreating more and more from his grasp.

  He turned a beseeching gaze to her only to find she countered it with a bland stare. This wasn’t going to be easy at all. He heard a yelp from one of the animals and knew his time alone with her was just about over.

  Lucien jumped up, acting on an instinct he didn’t know he had—protecting and holding on to what he thought was his. He had never wanted anything like this before—his chair screeched across the floor planks as it was shoved back. He strode over to her, cupped her face with his calloused hands and kissed her. Inhaled her.

  He tugged on her lips with his own. He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue before he plundered its depths. His body tingled. He couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get close enough to her.

  Ciara slid her arms up and wrapped her hands in his hair. Their tongues met, dueled, parried and made love to each other.

  Both of them panted and desired more when the door swung open and they were shocked back to the present. Current time, current problems. Lucien dragged his mouth—a huge effort—off hers. He couldn’t relinquish his hold as he turned his head and looked at Faolan and Kosse as they tumbled, wet and snow-covered, into the cabin.

  He stared at her, a promise in his gaze. A promise to finish what was started. His eyes were narrowed, his body quaked as it shook with need he was more—much more—than ready to comply with. His breaths were convoluted as he tried to control the fire that had consumed him in its entirety. Lucien clenched his hands into fists he took deep breaths but could not look away from her.

  She was magnificent. Her skin flushed, her eyes smoldered with barely restrained passion that would take only a spark to set off, and releasing what he knew would be nothing short of volcanic in reaction. He had aroused the sensuous woman who had lain untapped beneath the surface.

  That knowledge was an aphrodisiac in itself. He wanted her. The other women were faceless, not even a memory. He left them and they left his recollection. Women experienced in the art of seduction could take lessons from her. Ever since the kiss in the snow—and yet perhaps before then—she had been the only one present in his mind.

  Ciara stood by the door as she watched Lucien. By all that was holy, the man could kiss. Her body desired, craved, yearned for more of his touch. She sucked on her bottom lip to savor his taste. Even from where she was, she could see his sharp intake of breath at her action.

  She approached him with caution. Eyes locked on one another, sparks jumping between them. She passed by his hardened body to the counter. Lucien didn’t make a move to touch her—nevertheless, he moved with her as he kept eye contact. It was as if they both knew what would happen should they touch again.

  Breakfast was a tense affair. Neither of them attempted to speak and they kept their gazes lowered. It was very awkward.
After a spell, Ciara looked up at him and spoke.

  “What did you have to say to me?”

  “What? I wanted to apologize for my disrespectfulness yesterday. You were right—I have no right to speak of your parents in any way. Very poorly done of me. I also agree that I have no right to question you on where you got your animals. As a marquess, I know that I get aggressive even when it is not in the best taste. I always have.

  “I can only hope that you will give me another chance to become your friend. I am not used to having a woman as a friend, but I do truly value your opinion and hope that what has transpired between us will not overtly affect our relationship.”

  Ciara stared intently at the man across from her at the table. She was drawn to him like a bee to a flower. She schooled her face into a bland expression. “The winter will be too long if we can’t get along. We both were out of line and I also apologize. I could have handled it better, but I lost my temper.”

  “So. What do we do now?” He voiced the question that neither one knew the answer to.

  “Since we are likely to have only a few more hours of nice weather, I am going to go outside. I can show you around if you wish.”

  “This is nice weather?”

  She nodded and he dropped it.

  They cleared the dishes and as they got ready to go out she looked at him. “I am going to wash some clothes today as well.”

  “Good. I think I have worn out my welcome in these.” His words fell on deaf ears as she pictured him naked. “Ciara? Is everything all right?”

  Ciara blinked and cleared her throat. “Fine. Are you ready?” She reached for her cloak, as did he.

  He held the door and they all paraded outside. Faolan, Kosse, Ciara and he brought up the rear. They had made sure that the fire had been fed so it would be warm when they returned.

  Ciara led him to a ridge that overlooked a lake down in the basin. “I used to hide around up here from my parents. They always pretended they couldn’t find me. Even if I was sitting in plain sight, which was often the case, I was never really good at hiding. I learned how to swim in that lake. I built a raft and when I was in the middle of the lake, it sank. Well, it felt like the middle. I seriously doubt I made it very far.

  “My dad and mom laughed so hard, causing me to cry even harder. Dad just smiled saying, ‘A raft is more than two pieces of wood.’ I hadn’t even tied them together. Just thought it should work. That was the first and last of my deep-sea adventures. That was, however, when Dad had decided to teach me about woodworking, carving and such.

  “The lake in the spring turns a beautiful rich blue. Mom was forever saying how she wished she could get that color to come out in her dyes. It was never how she wanted it, too dark or too bright. Never that exact shade she wanted.” The same shade as your eyes, Lucien St. Martin.

  Chapter Twelve

  They walked farther. When they entered a clearing, he stopped as he saw a herd of horses. It was Nyama’s herd. His bay was there as well. It was as if they had banded together for the winter. All the horses were in their winter coats and it couldn’t take away from their beauty.

  Ciara walked out to the edge of the clearing and released a low whistle. The black, Nyama, tossed up his head and came up. She spoke to him in a language Lucien couldn’t understand but knew that the horse did.

  As she spoke to the horse, he took the time to look him over. He was interesting—not ugly but not as beautiful as he had been from afar. He was smaller than the thoroughbreds and had a distinctive face. The head was elongated and the quarters were sloped. The tail set was low.

  He could see raw power in that horse, though. She was right—he moved with a grace that one wouldn’t expect if they stared at him.

  With a smile that would rival the heavens, she asked, “Would you like to go for a ride?” When Lucien just looked at her with a blank stare, she tried again as she swung up on the horse.

  “Would you like to take a quick ride? We can ride back to the cabin.” Her voice urged him to accept her proposition.

  The thought of riding behind her was too good an opportunity to pass up. Titled or no, rich or no, he was not a man who had ridden bareback much. A frown crossed his face. How would this work? Pride dictated that he do it, but he didn’t want her to know that he had not done so before.

  “Sure.” Arrogant male won out over logical person. “I will ride behind you.”

  “No. Do you think you can handle the bay?”

  “A stallion? With nothing on him? Are you sure that would be wise?” He didn’t care that the question was way less than a manly response.

  Ciara quirked a brow in perfect imitation of him as she swung down from Nyama. She gave another low whistle and a mare came up. She was a beautiful brown color with a white rump that had spots on it. Looked kind of like she had snow falling on her hindquarters.

  “This is Epona. She is my favorite mare. I got her from some of the Indians. She is something else. This is whom I want to breed Nyama to. I think that their combined endurance and speed will be amazing. You can ride her.”

  Lucien looked at Epona. “What does her name mean? Epona?” He moved in and rubbed the mare’s nose. She was large—almost larger than the stallion—and solid.

  “Epona was a Celtic goddess. Of horses. Besides, I couldn’t pronounce her name when I got her, so I changed it. Go on. Get on.”

  Ciara swung back up on Nyama and waited for Lucien to mount. He did so, his action a bit clumsy but she made no mention of it.

  As they rode through the quiet forest, Lucien gained a new appreciation for her and her horses. The mare he rode was calm and very strong. She walked along and responded to his legs. He stole a glance at Ciara and saw one of her rare, unreserved and wholehearted smiles that rocked him to the core.

  They approached another small clearing when he heard Ciara whisper to him. Epona stopped and he looked at Ciara. “What?” he asked in a whisper as well, not sure if there would be trouble.

  “Wolf, look.” She pointed to the trees. It was a bunch of bunnies that ran around on top of the snow, completely enjoying the sun and mild day. Their antics were funny and cute.

  They sat and watched the bunnies until an overzealous kitten came into the picture. The sight of Kosse as he slid across the smooth surface of the snow, trying without success to catch a bunny, made Ciara peal out in laughter.

  Lucien felt his heart stop. It was like the first time he’d enjoyed her laughter. It was not a little twitter meant to attract a man’s attention, but it did. It was a full laugh, husky and seductive, without intention of being so, but still seductive.

  With a gaze slanted at her, he saw her head tipped toward the sun. Her teeth shone bright against her dark skin, that sexy throat moving as the laugh erupted. Her eyes sparkled with joy. It was unrehearsed. It was pure. It was life. It was what he had missed. Joy.

  Ciara looked over at Lucien as he watched her. She smiled as she watched him try to contain a smile of his own. He just didn’t realize it yet that she was good for him. He needed to find happiness in his life. She was determined to help him find it. Even if it was for only the short time they were together. Everyone deserved to know what pure euphoria was like. No hidden agendas, no plans to get something back.

  It was a way to honor her parents’ memory and the reason they had started Paradise Cove. To give people a place to start over, no matter where you came from or how you looked. If you were willing to accept others on those same terms, you were welcome to stay. Everyone was equal. Everyone deserved a chance to be happy.

  Lucien seemed to have missed a vital part of life. He was rich, yes. He was titled, yes. On the outside he appeared to have everything, but the more Ciara watched him, the surer she was that he was far from being complete. His childhood had not been good, and now people didn’t want him as a friend, they wanted the benefits that came with knowing a marquess. That was something Ciara had no use for. What did she need? Her life was pretty much near perfect in her ey
es.

  Since she had grown up with nothing but love, it was hard for Ciara to imagine what it was like for him. A cold, bleak world. Money was important, but nothing, nothing, was more important than love and family. What good is all the money in the world if you have no one to love, no one to share your life with? It seemed that he was short on both.

  “Go ahead and smile, Wolf. I won’t tell anyone,” she teased.

  His eyes snapped to her face as she grinned.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You should smile more. You appear very—how do you say it in England? Suave? Debonair? I don’t know. I do know that it makes you very, very handsome. Come, we need to go back. The weather will change soon.” She nudged Nyama on with her knees and he followed suit with Epona.

  “What does Faolan mean?” Lucien asked as Epona drew up alongside Nyama.

  “It is a Gaelic word for wolf. Pretty inventive, don’t you think?”

  “Well, why do you call me Wolf? It’s not even part of my name.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “No. But that doesn’t explain why you do it.” He could listen to her talk all day.

  “Why do people call you Saint?”

  “Part of my name. Besides only certain ones do that.”

  “Let me guess, certain ones that you see at the functions you attend. Right?”

  “Yes. That’s right. My friends call me Luc. My parents call me Saint as well.”

  “Sort of a formal title for you. Well, I call you Wolf because you remind me of Faolan. When we were first together, he didn’t trust me and was overly cautious around me and yet at the same time he was full of himself. When I would get close to him he would hackle up and bare his teeth, to try to scare me. I knew he was just full of bluster. He was more scared than anything, and while he knew I was no threat, he still had to act tough. That is why I call you Wolf.”

  “What about Kosse? What does that mean, lion?”