Broken Dove

by Kristen Ashley

Totally loaded.

  “We have electricity in my world,” I offered.

  He nodded and looked away, saying, “Yes. Finnie explained this to me. It’s an intriguing concept and after we fought to unite Lunwyn with Middleland, I set researchers on harnessing it.”

  “That was smart,” I muttered lamely.

  I’d already learned from the guys of the recent war in which Apollo and all his men fought to reunite the countries of Lunwyn and Middleland that had been split by a now-deceased king in order to give his twin sons land to rule.

  Luckily, their side won.

  “I also own a mine here that produces Sjofn ice diamonds as well as import jewels from Korwahk, have them cut and sell them to jewelers throughout the Northlands,” Apollo informed me. “Further, the House of Ulfr owns a variety of farms that raise mink, ermine, sable, rabbit, cattle, and the like. They sell the meat and tan the hides to provide fur and leather to clothiers.”

  He stopped talking, so I observed, “With all that going on, you must be very busy.”

  “I am,” he agreed.

  “So, I guess me and malevolent witches are really kind of a pain in your ass,” I noted, trying to inject a badly needed dose of humor into the conversation.

  I swiftly got his eyes and they weren’t flashing with amusement.

  “Malevolent witches, yes. You, no. Not when you’re being as you are now. When you’re being churlish, yes.”

  Suddenly, I felt like a bitch and it didn’t feel good.

  “Apollo—”

  Before I could say more (not that I had any clue what to say), he straightened in his chair, turned to me but tipped his head to the table.

  “You’re finished?”

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  “Then we’re away to bed.”

  Away to bed.

  Crap.

  He stood and reached toward the chair that held our capes.

  I stood as well, starting, “Maybe we should—”

  His eyes came to mine as he moved around the table holding my cape. “I’ll escort you to the hotel and give you time to prepare for bed. I’ll join you after you’ve had time to settle.”

  All right then.

  That sounded like a plan.

  “Okeydokey,” I whispered and again watched his eyes flash, this one I’d not seen before.

  I didn’t get a chance to get a lock on it before he was behind me and settling my cape on my shoulders.

  I pushed my hands through the slits as he buckled on his cloak and I waited as he threw some coins on the table.

  He then offered his arm and I took it. Like Derrik, he didn’t hesitate to pull me closer, tucking his arm with my hand to his side. Unlike Derrik, he did this in a perfunctory way, even if he did curl his warm fingers over mine.

  Then we were “away” into the night on the swept-of-snow wooden walkways that served as sidewalks in this village.

  That would be, away to bed.

  Again.

  Crap.

  Chapter Eight

  No Recriminations

  “I’ll…uh, see you in a bit,” I said at the door to Apollo, who had unlocked it and threw it open, sticking his head in to take a cursory look around, but he did this and was now standing at its side.

  “You will,” he replied, pocketing the key. “Lock up behind you.”

  I nodded then watched as he turned and strode away.

  He was out of sight down the stairs before I went into the room, closed the door and locked it behind me.

  “Okay, what the fuck is the matter with me?” I asked the empty room.

  Of course, I received no answer.

  What I did was notice that the fire was dancing merrily in its grate, a large iron grid sitting in front of it with lips that curled into the stone so no sparks would fly out. There were big stacks of split logs, plenty of fuel for his lordship to keep the fire burning all night and not bother calling a servant to do it for him.

  I also noticed that our trunks had been hauled up which meant I had my nightgown.

  I didn’t go to the nightgown.

  I went to the nightstand closest to me, opened the drawer and found what I always found when at an inn in Lunwyn or Hawkvale. A supply of rudimentary matches.

  I lit the lamp by the bed then moved to the opposite side and lit that one as well.

  I moved to the fire, carefully removed the grid, tossed the used matchsticks in, fed it more logs and returned the grid.

  I stood back and stared at it.

  I had no idea how long Apollo would give me to get changed so I knew I should get a move on.

  But as I stared into the flames, I didn’t get a move on.

  Instead, my mind was filled with other things and one of those other things was the fact that I kind of forgot why I was so pissed at him.

  He’d saved me from Pol.

  His reasons for doing this were because the wife he obviously adored had died and he wanted her back. Clearly being a man of action, when he found the impossible—that there was something he could do about that—he’d done something about it. This was slightly unbalanced, but I could get that.

  But then he made the heartbreaking realization in having me, he couldn’t get her back.

  Sure, he was a jerk about informing me of that but I could kind of get that too.

  Then he’d understandably taken off to get his children to safety, and get away from me, the woman it hurt to even look at. But he’d left me in a beautiful house in a beautiful country with kind people. He’d given me gorgeous clothes. He’d provided me with a guard of great guys who saw me here, and in doing so gave me the best time of my life.

  Now, he was forced to endure my presence and he was doing it as a kindness to me so I wouldn’t have to be around the this world children I couldn’t have in mine.

  So he was arrogant and autocratic. He was the head of an aristocratic line in this world. What did I know of how they behaved? He was the only one I knew. Hell, others might even be worse than him.

  And, truth be told, if I thought about it (which I hadn’t until then), his men said something about him.

  Actually, if I really thought about it, Apollo had often displayed a sense of humor and he definitely displayed a sense of duty. He was clearly intelligent. He was also generous. There were reasons he inspired loyalty from those men, especially the ones from different Houses. They didn’t have to stay with him.

  And he’d been displaying those reasons since the night I met him.

  Chiefly, him traveling to another world to save me from Pol.

  Okay, so this world was living under the threat of misfortune raining down on it through witchy she-gods.

  But the misfortune Pol had rained down on me was pretty danged bad and it threatened to last a lifetime.

  And I was safe from that.

  Forever.

  Because of Apollo.

  So what did I have to be a bitch about?

  I pulled off my fabulous fur cape (another reason not to be a bitch, seriously, it was awesome), moving to the table to throw it over a chair, thinking I was going to have to sort myself out.

  This wasn’t easy on either of us. There was no reason to make it harder.

  I tossed my cape over the chair and was about to move to my trunk when I noticed on the table that the wine and glasses were gone. In their place were a teapot and two teacups.

  My head tipped to the side as I stared at it.

  It wasn’t unusual for the finer establishments to have a pot of tea or a bottle of brandy waiting for you in your room when you came up from dinner.

  But usually, you ordered it.

  Maybe when Apollo was downstairs without me, he’d ordered it.

  The thing was that the teapot and cups were made of fine china, embellished with gold engravings around which were beautiful emerald green designs. In my experience of that world, this was not something an inn like that would have.

  “Maybe they pull out the good stuff when the gentry c
ome to call,” I murmured, reaching out a hand to lift the top off the teapot.

  I did this because I was curious. I didn’t intend to drink it. I needed to get to sleep, and fast, hopefully before Apollo showed, and the tea here had caffeine in it.

  But the top dropped with a clatter to the table when I released it in surprise as a soft glow emanated from the pot.

  “What the…?” I whispered, leaning in and peering closer.

  Yep. There it was. A soft glow.

  A pretty soft glow.

  “How weird,” I murmured, unafraid because I’d spent over four months in that world and I’d seen some amazing stuff, all of it beautiful, so at that point glowing tea didn’t faze me.

  I hooked my fingers around the delicate handle, lifted it to my nose and took a sniff.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  It smelled divine. Like peppermint mixed with licorice and vanilla.

  It was clear this was herbal tea and I wondered if they provided it to soothe you and help you get to sleep. Or if Apollo had ordered it for that reason.

  The one thing I knew, that smell was certainly soothing.

  And I could use some soothing. I could also use some warm in my belly. The fire was great but I’d learned in my time in Lunwyn that I wouldn’t be warm and toasty until I was under the covers.

  I put the top back on the pot and poured a cup, grinning in fascination as I noted the glitter dancing in the tea.

  No wonder it glowed.

  I took a cautious sip and closed my eyes slowly.

  Bliss.

  I then took a not-cautious sip, enjoyed it immensely and put the cup down. I moved to the bed, pulled up my skirts and tugged off my boots. I was also wearing tights of a fine, soft cream wool. I pulled those down too.

  And felt them slide magnificently across every inch of my skin.

  Although that hadn’t happened the times I’d done it before, I wasn’t surprised. The wool of my tights wasn’t cashmere, but its softness was close. And it was warm, so it wasn’t a surprise the coolness of the room hitting my legs when I lost that warmth made me tremble.

  I went to my trunk, unlocked it and threw it open, tossing the tights inside and grabbing a nightgown that I’d laid on top.

  It was unfortunate at this juncture with the sleeping arrangements that all my nightgowns were awesome, as in awesomely sexy. But I was hoping to be under the covers before Apollo saw one.

  I went back to the table and nabbed the cup, taking two more quick sips as I walked back to the bed. I tossed the nightgown on the bed to free my hands to take off my dress, but when I’d done that, I didn’t take off the dress.

  I wrapped both hands around the warm cup and drank more of that heavenly tea.

  Then more.

  And I did this because I suddenly wasn’t sipping tea.

  I was experiencing it, an explosion on my taste buds and a warmth that spread through me from inside to out.

  My eyelids got heavy as I took another sip and became vaguely conscious of every inch of my skin. This was because it was tingling in a way I really liked. I took one hand from the cup and wrapped it around my belly to hold myself as I experienced it.

  “Fabulous,” I whispered, lifting the cup and drinking in more.

  Suddenly, my legs were restless, moving without me telling them to. My knees went back and forth, rubbing my thighs together, the friction warming them and sliding up between my legs, an area I noted just then was drenched with wet.

  “Oh God,” I breathed, looking into the glittering dregs of the tea.

  This wasn’t right.

  My hand moved from my waist over to my belly and down and I couldn’t stop it.

  God, I had to touch myself, now.

  I swallowed and put the cup down. Lifting my other hand to my hair, I pulled out the ribbon that held it in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. The fall of my hair drifting across my back was vague through the cashmere of my dress, but I still felt it sear through me, making my nipples hard. So hard they were aching.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, knowing something in that tea was making me feel this way.

  But it was too late.

  My hand at my belly moved down to cover the juncture of my legs.

  Apollo was coming back at any moment, but I had to touch myself.

  I had to.

  Or better, find someone to touch me.

  Oh yes.

  Find someone to touch me.

  It had been years. Years.

  On that thought, I moved my hands to the sides of my skirts, clenched them into the material and pulled up.

  A soft knock came at the door.

  My eyes went to the door and my mind filled with Apollo in his turtleneck and breeches.

  Especially those breeches.

  Blood rushed to my breasts and more wet saturated between my legs.

  “Ils…Madeleine?” his deep voice sounded outside the door.

  I was across the room in a flash.

  I turned the lock, threw open the door and reached out a hand. I clenched it in his sweater and yanked him into the room.

  “Bloody hell, what—?”

  I knew I should stop. I knew it.

  I just couldn’t.

  I ran my hands over his sweater at his chest, the feel of the soft thick wool and the hint of hardness beneath it, swear to God, I nearly climaxed on the spot.

  My knees did get weak and I had to lean into him, my hand darting up and curling around the back of his neck.

  I put pressure on and tipped my head back to see him looking across the room. I distractedly noticed he’d put a hand to my waist but his body was tight and unmoving as I unsuccessfully tried to pull his head down to me at the same time I pressed deep into his body.

  Finally, what seemed like took years, his chin dipped and his unbelievable jade eyes looked into mine.

  “Madeleine, my dove, did you drink that tea?” he asked gently, but his tone also sounded wary, urgent and alarmed.

  “It’s delicious,” I whispered, going up on my toes, burrowing close to his body, putting more pressure on his neck, my other hand sliding down his chest with a specific aim.

  He caught that wrist and yanked my hand back up his chest and pressed it there.

  “Listen to me,” he said, now sounding only urgent.

  “Okay,” I replied and successfully got my nose on his jaw.

  I ran it the length and felt his fingers around my wrist tighten. I took that as a good sign so when I came back down his jaw, I used my lips.

  He pulled back and shook me carefully. “Maddie, look at me and listen.”

  “Come closer,” I begged.

  “I need to gag you and tie you to the bed,” he declared.

  Oh God.

  Awesome.

  “Yes,” I breathed, pressing close to him again.

  His eyes flashed, the pads of his fingers at my waist and those around my wrist dug in and he said, “No, my dove, not for that. For your own good. You’ve had adela tea and the effects won’t wear off for some time. I need to leave you alone. And so you don’t get into trouble, I need to tie you down.”

  “I’m okay with the tying down bit, not okay with the leaving bit,” I told him.

  “I must.”

  “You mustn’t.”

  “Maddie, I must.”

  I shook my head and pressed closer. “Please, don’t leave.”

  “But I must,” he repeated.

  I ignored that and pulled him with me as I took a step back, urging, “Come to bed.”

  “I can’t.”

  I slid my hand to his jaw and got up on tiptoe, begging, “Please.”

  He moved both of his hands to my face and dipped his close, but his hold on me was firm so I couldn’t get to his mouth. I knew this because I tried.

  “My poppy, focus on my eyes, listen to me.”

  “I’m listening,” I assured him. “But I can listen better in bed.”

  “We get in that bed, neither of
us will be talking.”

  “I’m down with that too,” I shared.

  “I think I understand what you mean by that, and if I do, I can also assure you won’t be down with that in the morning.”

  “I will,” I replied quickly. “I promise. Swear.”

  “Maddie—”

  I got up on my toes as close to him as I could.

  He moved that inch away, which sucked.

  I tried a different tactic and whispered, “It’s been over three years.”

  “Gods,” he rumbled, the sound of that single word going through me in a way that I had to stifle a moan of pleasure.

  “I need you, baby,” I pleaded.

  “This isn’t right, my dove. You don’t know it now but you’ll thank me in the morning.”

  “It’s right. It’s so right.” I pushed closer. “It’s been years, honey. I need your hands on me. Your mouth on me.”

  “Maddie—” he started, the sound like a groan, spurring me on.

  I held his eyes and framed his face with my hands as he was mine and whispered, “I need you.”

  “You don’t, my dove. It’s the tea,” he whispered back.

  I stared at him, my breasts heavy, my breaths shallow, my sex saturated, every inch of my skin sensitized, and I thought, Fuck it.

  I let him go and stepped back so he let me go.

  I watched his hands fall to the sides and I took in all that was him.

  There was a lot.

  And all of it was good.

  Then I pounced.

  I landed on him with arms around his shoulders and curled my legs around his hips. Automatically, his hands went to my ass to catch me and a whimper slid up my throat at his touch as I slammed my mouth down on his.

  His hand slid up my back and into my hair and that was good.

  Until he turned his head away, breaking the contact of our lips.

  He shoved his face in my neck and muttered, “Gods damn it.”

  I hoped that was capitulation and I had hope since he was walking me to the bed.

  Then he put me down on it, but once he’d done that, he captured both of my hands and yanked them over my head. Holding them in one of his, his other went to his belt.

  I had a feeling I knew what this meant and it was not that he was giving me what I wanted but that he was going to use his belt to tie me to the bed and then take off.