by Wood, Lynn
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Only his name filtered slowly through her thoughts as she returned to the spacious room in the king’s keep. Dazed she met the knowing amusement in his dark eyes. Underneath the knowing lay something darker, something her scattered senses were unable to put a name to. Triumph? Male satisfaction at her complete and total surrender? She was trying to puzzle it out when he bent to whisper the unthinkable, the impossible in her ear. “We’re not finished yet.”
Only this time it wasn’t a contest of wills. How could it be? She already surrendered everything inside of her to this man, but somehow he found more for her to give. Reserves inside of her she’d been unaware of until he revealed them to her. He used a new weapon to coax them out of her. No longer did he demand her surrender with his superior masculine strength. This time he wielded an even more devastating weapon against her. Tenderness. Warm promises whispered against her skin in his deep, sexy voice of his desire for her, his dreams of her while he searched the wilderness for her, believing she was dead or injured, in need of his help and his anguish at being unable to reach her. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks at his confessions, the way he so generously shared his heart with her. The way he freely opened himself to her mockery was in such contrast to her own impulse to keep everything of value hidden, secret, especially the secrets of her heart.
So when he demanded she give herself to him, she complied gladly, wanting to be able to share herself more completely with him. This time when their passion for each other grew until his voice was no longer polished but left his lips in a harsh demand for her surrender, she gladly flew with him, as with a fierce shout of satisfaction he poured himself into her until he was empty, and then collapsed on top of her.
“Luke…”
The best he could summon in response to her hesitant overture was a noncommittal grunt.
“Luke, you’re crushing me.”
From some untapped well of strength within he summoned enough to roll off of his bride and onto his back. He’d meant to prove to her he was the stronger one and intended to be the dominant force in their marriage, but it was Melissa who somehow cajoled, enticed and finally lured his complete surrender to her stunning beauty, her fierce spirit and her luminous femininity. Rather than leave this bed in the morning with the knowledge he was in complete control of his wife, he would rise from it with the unwelcome suspicion tonight’s activities only left him more completely entangled in his wife’s bewitching spell.
He pushed the unwelcome suspicion aside and gathered her warm, naked flesh against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and her breath slowed until he knew she was on the verge of sleep. His fingers smoothed the tangles from her hair and stroked her soft flesh where she lay against him. It was intensely pleasurable to lay with her like this, naked flesh against naked flesh with her soft breath whispering across his chest.
Sleep beckoned, but he resisted it, not wanting this night to end, knowing in the morning they would face each other once more at opposite sides of the battle lines he understood were still drawn between them. Where she rested against him he felt the smooth heat of the Salusian stone against their joined flesh, the only adornment she wore. The queen’s gift of the transparent gown for their wedding night he’d torn off of her at some point in his desperation to reach and feast on her hot flesh.
“What does it mean to be the keeper of the Salusian stone?”
Melissa tensed for a moment at his question and then with an effort, she dismissed her instinctive resistance to what she guessed was merely natural curiosity on Luke’s part. “It means different things to each steward. Sometimes a steward’s task is merely to keep the stone safe and then pass it along to the next keeper.”
“Our daughter?”
“My daughter,” Melissa corrected automatically.
“Our daughter,” Luke insisted and rather than argue, Melissa simply shrugged. “Rhiann mentioned the stone could be passed to Michel.”
“Yes, twins are the exception. We shared the same womb, the same blood. The stone would speak to him.”
“Does it speak to you?”
Melissa snuggled closer and admitted in a whisper, “I am not certain if it’s the stone, but I see things, hear things.”
“What do you see? What do you hear?”
“Do you remember when I was ill and I thought I was dying? He came to me then. It wasn’t the first time.”
“Who came to you?”
“Death.”
He was so surprised by her answer he lifted his head up so he could see her face. She lifted hers off his chest to meet his incredulous expression. “You think I was imagining things in my fevered state.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
“No, and if it was the only time he spoke to me I wouldn’t doubt your explanation.”
“There were others?”
“Yes, when my boat fell apart in the storm and I was tossed into the water. My gown dragged me under. It was so dark and I was spun around in the water until I didn’t know which direction the surface was. I was completely blind and thought I was going to die.”
“What happened?”
“I swear I could hear him sigh in my ear like my father used to when he was upset with me. Then he berated me for being so foolish, the way he had when I was a little girl. The next thing I remember was waking up on the beach. I have no memory of how I got there.”
“The way he did when you were a little girl?”
“Yes, I can see you don’t believe me, but it’s true. I was always getting into trouble when I was younger.”
“Only when you were younger?” Luke countered drily
Melissa grinned. “Well, I suppose I have always been troublesome. I don’t intend to get into scrapes. Somehow they just happen.”
Luke’s lips twitched at the very real confusion in her explanation, but he was curious enough about her earlier comment to lead her back in that direction. “When did you run into death when you were a little girl?”
Melissa’s eyes took on a faraway expression. “It was a boat that time too. We were spending the summer along a river with my grandmother’s people. Michel got to go with the men but they wouldn’t let me go with them.”
Luke’s chest rose and fell on suppressed laughter. “So you followed them.”
Melissa grinned up into his smiling face. “Yes, I pushed one of the boats off the river bank but I couldn’t hold it. So I jumped in, and much to my surprise, when it sped ahead in the current I didn’t have the strength to control its direction.”
Luke sighed, surprised by the very real dread he felt at what was coming next, even though the events Melissa was describing had to have occurred a decade or more ago. “What happened then?”
“I went over the falls.”
“What?” Luke was stunned by the casual way his bride threw the admission at him, as if such a catastrophe was an everyday occurrence in her chaotic life. At the thought of her as a young girl going over the falls alone in a boat she couldn’t control, he struggled into a seated position and gripped her arms, restraining only with a sincere effort the urge to shake some belated sense into the little girl she once was.
Melissa’s deep blue eyes stared up at him, filled with both surprise and confusion at his reaction to her tale. She nodded, in case he was still uncertain if he could believe she was telling him the truth. “It’s true. I went over the falls. The boat went one way and I went flying off in another. I fell for what seemed like a long time, but it was probably only a moment or so. It hurt a lot when I finally hit the surface and then I was immediately pulled under by the churning water.”
Luke held onto his rising temper with an effort. “Don’t keep me in suspense, wife.”
Melissa grinned, thinking the dark look on her husband’s face was very similar to the one her father wore when she had been forced to confess one of her transgressions to him. “I spun around and around under the water.
I kept trying to kick to the surface, but it kept changing direction on me. Finally, I stopped struggling. The next thing I remember was waking up on the river bank. That’s when he came to me. He asked if I was ready to go with him. I wanted to know where we were going. He laughed and said, come and see. I told him my father would be angry if I wandered off with a stranger. Then he laughed again. I crawled on his lap to stay warm while we waited for the others to find me. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up he was gone and Amele was bending over me, calling my name.”
Luke realized his outrage over the chances his wife seemed intent on taking with her life had caused him to lose the trail of their conversation. “Who’s Amele?”
“My grandmother’s commander and friend.”
The rational part of him recognized the futility of his anger over his wife’s account of another of her harebrained adventures that almost led to her death, a circumstance that was apparently so common for her she believed even at a young age she was on a conversational basis with death itself. Caught up in his outrage he was blind to the hesitant intensity of her gaze on his face as she waited to see his reaction to her confession that she heard and saw what others did not.
“Melissa…” he began, then thrust a hand through his hair, a sure sign of his frustration. He was at a loss as to where to begin to respond to her incredible tale.
“Oh, save your breath, I can see you do not believe me. I don’t blame you, but I will not pretend for you the way Rhiann does for Nathan, or the way my mother pretended so my father’s peace wouldn’t be disturbed.”
“What won’t you pretend?” Now Luke was convinced he’d missed an important piece of her account.
“That I don’t see or hear what others either refuse to see or hear, or what they are incapable of, I am not certain which it is. He speaks to me Luke. He always has for as long as I can remember. Sometimes it’s like he’s right there behind my shoulder, whispering in my ear to be careful. It was his voice that woke me the night your brother attacked me. His voice that warned me Heaven’s Crest would fall. That’s why I left…why I tried to convince my mother and sister to leave with me, but they wouldn’t. My mother refused to go and my sister would not leave our mother alone. I thought if I could reach my grandmother she would know what to do. She would be able to help my mother and sister even if she could not prevent Heaven’s Crest from falling into enemy hands.”
Melissa met his searching look and was aware of the compassion it held. She sighed defeated. He only thought he knew. He only believed he understood what it was like for her, but he didn’t and never would. That part of her was an abyss too great for him to cross. “I can see you do not believe me. I realize now why my mother stopped trying to gain my father’s understanding. In time it became easier to pretend she didn’t see, she didn’t hear, so she would not have to be confronted with that look in my father’s eyes. The same look is in your eyes, Luke. I will not be married to a man I have to hide such an elemental part of myself from. For me it would be like cutting off one of my limbs and trying to make-believe I was still whole. In time the lies and emptiness would grow inside of me until I no longer recognized myself…until I no longer was myself.”
“Everyone wonders why I cling so stubbornly to the belief Michel is alive. For me it is not simply a belief. I know He would come to me if my twin was dead. The way he did when each of my brothers was killed. I knew before word reached the keep. I knew when my father died, and when my mother breathed her last. Don’t you see? That’s why I know Michel is still alive. How I knew Rhiann lived, even though I couldn’t see whether she was safe and well. My brother is alive, Luke. I cannot simply abandon him and begin a new life in a world foreign to me as if he no longer existed or never did.”
Silence fell heavily into the space between them following Melissa’s revelation. Her eyes pleaded, not for his understanding, because they both accepted such a gift was beyond his ability to grant her. Instead she asked only for his acceptance, his belief in her unusual claim, and his trust. For his part, Luke wasn’t certain he could give her either and perceiving his doubt, Melissa drew away from the restraining circle of his embrace, understanding he could not grant her what she needed, and accepting she would not settle for less. Luke made no move to stop her retreat and they faced each other from across the bed, a short distance measured in feet and inches, but to Melissa’s mind, an un-scalable wall now stood between them.
“You comprehend now why I insisted on the divorce. I would not be a good wife for you, Luke. Go home to the life you were born to. Become your father’s heir and lord of the vast Michaels’ empire. Busy yourself with the cares of men and the burdens of this world and release me to pursue the life I was born to live.”
His dark eyes, fathomless pools she could not read, held her unwavering glance. Luke thought he understood now why Melissa was considered the headstrong one. Her sister hid her own gifts behind a lovely face and submissive manner. Melissa was offering him no such easy road to acknowledging the mysterious part of her underlying her appeal to him. He could even appreciate the wisdom of her advice to return to his world and forget what they shared with each other. Unfortunately, he found even with the temptation of becoming lord of his own lands, master of the Michaels’ estates upon his father’s death, his former way of life no longer appealed to him if he could not share it with this woman by his side and in the warmth of his bed at night.
“No, I will not release you from your commitment to me.”
“In a year’s time, you will have no choice but to honor your pledge to the king and release me from this marriage.”
“Only if I fail to find your brother,” Luke reminded her.
“Or if he eludes you.”
Her last dart hit home. Luke admitted he never considered the possibility of Michel not wanting to be found and returned to the loving arms of his twin sister. Belatedly he reflected more closely on the terms of their negotiations. Their marriage would be dissolved after one year if he did not return her brother to her or provide incontrovertible proof of his death before the deadline expired. If Michel turned up on his own he did not doubt Melissa would argue Luke failed to hold up his side of their agreement and she was therefore free of her commitment to him. He realized now he should have paid a little more attention to the fine details before affixing his name to the document that would dissolve his marriage, only at the time he was so desperate to secure her consent to marry him, it didn’t occur to him to consult an expert in the ways of the law before he put his seal to the contract that was drawn up on their behalf.
His glance roamed over her lovely, lush body, thinking this was not the most opportune of times for his manly lust to cloud his thoughts, but he justified his reaction with the rationalization that not even a man of the cloth could resist the temptation before him. His beautiful bride sat across from him naked, perched on her knees, her lovely breasts tantalizingly full, tempting him with their offerings the way the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden led Adam to his doom. If he were married to a less complicated woman they would not be wasting what was left of their wedding night with discussions of their future divorce. With an effort he raised his eyes from her soft flesh and the promise it held for him and met her resigned gaze. Alongside the resignation lay acceptance and sadness.
“No, I will not release you from your commitment to me,” he repeated his earlier vow. “I will find your brother and return him to you as I agreed. He will not elude me, nor will he be able to secure your release from your covenant to me. You are my wife, Melissa, now and forever. If you attempt to run from me, I will find you and bring you back to my side. In time you will learn to accept your place is by my side and in my bed as my wife.”
“My place?” Melissa echoed bitterly.
“Yes, your place. Your father allowed you to run wild, to indulge your foolish fantasies. I am not your father, nor apparently do I possess his unlimited patience. You have been through an ordeal and I will be patient
with you, but if I have to employ a guard, or two, or a dozen to follow your every step until you accept your life is with me, I will do so.”
Melissa’s face leeched of all color at his threat. The steel behind his intent glance revealed to her he would not hesitate to carry it out if she pressed him. Her disbelief emerged in the quietest of whispers. “I thought you were different. I believed you were my friend.”
Luke regretted crushing his bride’s tender illusions about him, especially on their wedding night and with the prospect of a long separation facing them. He thought it best, however, to spell out for his reluctant wife a few pertinent truths so she would have time to grow accustomed to them during his time away, and to the way things would be between them in the future. “I am your friend, Melissa, but I am also your husband, and as you yourself pointed out, I am a busy man. I am responsible for your safety and I will not allow you to put your life at risk with one crazy escapade after another. You are a grown woman. It is time you began acting like one.”
If Luke had reached out and slapped her across the face the way his brother did that night, Melissa couldn’t have been more stunned. Her earlier joy in the evening and her hope Luke might actually desire her for his wife evaporated in the brutal glare of the truth. Unwilling to continue to share their marital bed in the face of it, she wrapped herself in the thick quilt that had fallen to the floor in the midst of their earlier activities and walked over to the window. If Luke forced his husbandly rights upon her now she thought she would be sick all over him.