The Lady and the Falconer

by Laurel O'Donnell

He lowered himself over her, the entire length of his hot body pressing against hers. He parted her legs with his knee and moved between her thighs. She felt something press against the most intimate part of her and groaned slightly. Logan gazed into her eyes, and in their misty grayness Solace saw his passion burning brightly, mirroring her own. Then he parted the delicate folds of her womanhood with his shaft, entering her.

  Solace stiffened as his manhood filled her. Then Logan was kissing her mouth, her eyes, her neck with urgency and desperation, enflaming her soul with a contagious plague of want. She returned his kisses with an equal fervor.

  He began to move inside of her, thrusting slowly at first, the tempo increasing as their passion built.

  A carnal hunger raged through Solace, a building tension racing through her veins. It claimed every portion of her body until she thought she could take no more. She cried out for release. Logan answered her cries, driving his manhood deeper and harder into her.

  With each thrust, Solace rose in swirling clouds of rapture, soaring higher and higher, until she reached the stars, adding a glow to the night that had never been there before. Waves of ecstasy washed over her again and again until she lay still, sated and fulfilled.

  She opened her eyes and stared at Logan in awe. A strange grin tugged at his lips before he began to move again, thrusting deep into her until his body stiffened and shook.

  Solace felt his shoulder muscles coil tight beneath her palms before he slumped forward with a satisfied sigh. They lay together for a long moment, the sounds of the night returning them to reality. Voices calling out in the distance. The clip-clop of a horse trotting by.

  Solace caressed his shoulders, winding a lock of his hair around one finger.

  “Solace,” Logan finally said, pushing himself up onto his elbows to stare down at her.

  She gazed at him, a small grin turning up the corners of her lips. Absolute bliss lingered in her veins. She felt somehow free and uninhibited. She had never realized it could be like that. That a man, that Logan, could make her feel this way. Solace’s grin turned into a full smile.

  Logan pressed a kiss onto her open mouth, before climbing to his feet to pull up his leggings.

  She sat up, gazing at him with beguiling delight. She didn’t even bother to cover her exposed breasts.

  Logan laughed softly and held out a hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her into his embrace. Her breasts brushed his chest. He righted her dress so it covered her chest. But when his hand lingered over one of her breasts longer than it should, Solace looked at him from beneath her eyelashes.

  With a growl, he gently shoved her back against the hoarding wall. “We could easily be discovered up here,” he whispered. “But if you keep looking at me like that I’m going to take you again anyway.”

  Solace couldn’t move when he was so close. Her senses left her, disappearing under the promise of one of his kisses, a caress. He lowered his hand and Solace held her breath, thinking, hoping he would touch her again. Instead, he gently smoothed out her skirt, pulling it down to cover her legs.

  He took her hand in his and began to turn away, heading toward the stairs.

  Solace halted, whispering, “Just one more kiss.”

  Logan groaned slightly, but turned to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Wanton wench,” he murmured, pressing his lips to hers.

  The still smoldering passion flamed to life in Solace. She melted against him, giving in to his expertise, allowing him complete reign over her senses.

  He pulled away, backing quickly from her as if she had burned him. He held her hand tightly and pulled her toward the stairs. They descended the steps to the courtyard. There, he released her hand, but continued at her side until they reached the keep.

  He stepped in front of her, so close that Solace could feel his breath on her upturned lips. The tips of her breasts were almost touching his chest, and they hardened in response to his closeness.

  “Come to me in the morning,” he whispered. “I’ll be free after I’ve trained the falcons near the mews.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  Logan stepped around her, his gaze searing her to the spot. He backed away from her, a sly smile on his lips. Solace watched the falconer until the darkness swallowed him.

  ***

  Hagen, the gate guard, watched from the battlements as Logan moved toward the mews. He was sure that he was the man who had forced him to open the gates. But who was he? Suddenly, from the darkness of the night, a large falcon descended to land on the stranger’s shoulder.

  Hagen’s eyes narrowed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Logan dropped the last piece of meat and the gyrfalcon quickly snatched it up, tearing into it. He knew she was coming to him. He knew that after he finished training the birds she would be there. He was actually looking forward to her visit. He grabbed his glove and the lure as he moved out the door.

  As he walked outside, he saw the courtyard was full of merchants opening their doors to begin the day. Across it, the kitchen servants were collecting some vegetables from the garden. A small child ran toward the keep with a large sack slung over his shoulder.

  He rounded the corner to the kennels, heading to the training grounds...

  ...and slammed into a little whirlwind! He barely flinched, but the impact sent the other person to the ground.

  Logan stared down at Solace. She looked a little dazed and utterly beautiful. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Don’t you ever walk?” he wondered, holding a hand out to her. Solace grasped his hand, and he pulled her up with a little too much force so she landed tightly against his chest. “You’re early.”

  She gazed into his eyes for a long, heated moment before stepping away from him and nodding.

  His stare swept down her face, from her deep green eyes, over her pert little nose, to her lips where his hot gaze lingered. After a long moment, Solace parted her lips slightly and dropped her head, but not before Logan noticed the red in her cheeks. He smiled slightly. “Have you come to help me now?” he wondered.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “Do you need help?” she asked.

  His eyes burned into hers. “I can always use your help,” he said, brushing by her, moving toward a white falcon sitting on a perch on the edge of the training grounds. Lord, how his body ached for her. He had thought of her through the entire night and now found he couldn’t concentrate on the falcons. He wanted to be inside her again.

  “Logan,” she whispered.

  Logan half turned to find her standing close behind him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she wondered.

  “Tell you?” he questioned, frowning at the seriousness of her tone.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

  Logan stiffened. His heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. How had she discovered the truth? How much does she know? he wondered.

  “You didn’t have to keep it a secret. At least not from me.”

  Logan turned away, nervously gathering the jesses in his hand.

  “Logan, I don’t understand why you did it,” she said softly.

  He shook his head. “You’re making this out to be bigger than it is,” he said, hoping to bluff his way through.

  “It’s treason! If my stepmother finds out, you’ll be thrown in the stocks. Or worse.”

  He clenched his jaw as dread shot through his body. “Are you going to tell her?”

  “Of course not,” she answered, and Logan heard the hurt in her voice.

  It must be the dungeon incident, he thought. Had she had found out he killed the guard? “I had no other choice,” he said.

  “But to disobey my stepmother...”

  Logan frowned, his eyes narrowing quizzically. “Disobey?” he echoed and turned to her.

  “That was very brave of you. If those gates had closed, I would have been in Barclay’s hands now.”

  “The gates,” he breathed. Relief flooded
every fiber of his body. She was talking about the gates. The damn gates! He almost laughed, but she looked so serious, so damned kissable, that he hid his laughter behind a wide grin. “I guess you owe me your life.”

  She nodded once. “And my gratitude.” Her gaze dipped to his lips.

  Desire washed through him. God’s blood! She could arouse him with a mere look. No, he amended silently. With her mere presence. Quickly, he turned back to the falcon. The sooner he finished the training, the sooner he could be alone with Solace. His entire body ached with wanting. No woman had ever affected him this way. No woman had consumed his thoughts, his mind, like Solace did.

  He took the lure and stepped away from the post, passing close to Solace, very close. She didn’t back away, but he heard her slight gasp as he came within touching distance. Could she want him as badly as he wanted her?

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

  He cast her a scorching look and a grin tugged at her lips. “Don’t tempt me,” he replied in a deep, guttural voice.

  Solace bowed her head, a smile spreading over her face, and walked to an overturned crate. She boosted her bottom up on it and turned to watch him.

  Logan reached the middle of the training ground and stopped. He planted his booted feet apart and lifted the lure, whirling it above his head.

  The white peregrine falcon sat on its perch, staring at Logan with small black eyes.

  A caw sounded in the air, and Logan raised his gaze to see his black falcon sitting on a nearby crenel, studying the lure with hungry eyes.

  Logan swung the sand-filled leather bag in slow, looping circles above his head. He knew he should have been paying attention to the white bird, but Solace was much more attractive to look at. She sat so demurely on the crate, a royal princess on her throne. And she looked like one, dressed in a rich blue velvet houppelande, which he couldn’t wait to rid her of. Her hair was braided tightly and wrapped around her head. He was dying to free her luxurious mane and sink his hands into its lush fullness.

  The lure spun faster and faster, whistling as it whipped through the air. “Chase it, you damn bird,” Logan muttered. The falcon puffed up its white feathers as if in indignation.

  Solace’s grin grew as the bird hopped on its perch, turning its back to Logan.

  Logan continued swinging the lure at a furious pace until his arm tired. Finally, he stopped and threw the lure to the ground in disgust. “Fine. Then don’t learn to hunt,” he whispered harshly.

  “You can hardly blame the falcon,” Solace called. “It can’t possibly fly that fast.”

  Logan turned to her, his eyes dark and flashing. He grabbed the lure by one of the limp feathers sewn onto the bag and held it out to her. “Perhaps you’d like to try it, m’lady.”

  Solace hopped down off the crate and approached him. She took the lure from his hand and shook the string out before her, turning her back to him. All Logan wanted to do was wrap his hands around her and pull her against him. Damn, he thought, as his body responded instantly to the picture, his manhood stirring in his leggings.

  Solace whistled softly, catching the falcon’s attention; the bird looked over its shoulder at her. Solace cooed, “Come on, darling. You’ll get fat if you sit on your perch all day.” She began to twirl the lure in the air in wider and wider circles. The white falcon hopped on the perch, turning full face to Solace.

  Solace mimicked Old Ben’s call, urging the bird to attack its fake prey. The bird’s black eyes locked on the lure, watching it circle. Solace continued to twirl the lure in slow, but steady circles. Then, suddenly, the falcon launched from its perch, circled the sky once and dove, catching the lure in midair. It landed on the perch, the lure secure in its sharp claws.

  Solace stared at the falcon for a long moment before turning to Logan with a smug look of triumph. Her large green eyes glittered like emeralds.

  Her grin was contagious. “We could have saved a lot of time if you trained the bird in the first place,” he said. He marched past her, moving toward the white falcon.

  “Are you in a hurry?” she asked.

  He cast a hungry glance at her over his shoulder.

  She approached behind him, leaning close to murmur. “You’re not a falconer, are you?”

  Logan froze. God’s blood! Did she know all of his secrets? he wondered.

  Her soft laughter reached his ears. “At least not a very good one.”

  Logan snapped on his thick leather glove. “Where did you learn how to handle a lure?” He approached the white falcon, holding his covered forearm out to the creature. The bird was still holding its prize enthusiastically, if a bit possessively. Logan moved his glove closer, touching the leather to the bird’s chest feathers. The bird instantly pecked hard at the glove, angry at the intrusion.

  Solace lowered her gaze to her clasped hands. “I hung around Old Ben long enough to learn.”

  After the rebuff from the falcon, Logan moved to a nearby pail and drew out a piece of red meat, tossing it to the peregrine. The bird immediately dropped the lure and clutched at the food, snatching it easily out of the air. Its sharp beak tore into the meat, easily ripping off a small portion.

  Logan picked up the fallen lure and turned to Solace.

  Shyly, she looked at the ground and Logan’s gaze settled on her lustrous hair. It shimmered in the sunlight, beckoning to him. He moved toward her, his steps full of purpose. Solace lifted her gaze to him as he stopped just before her. He stared into her beautiful green eyes for a long moment before reaching toward her. Her lips parted as his hand touched her temple, skimming over her hair, his fingers moving toward the back of her head. He pulled the pins from her hair and her braids tumbled down her back.

  Solace didn’t move as he reached around to the back of her head, entwining his fingers in her hair, loosening the braids until her sumptuous locks hung in riotous waves along her back. He ran his hand through her hair once again, enjoying the feel of it, the way tiny tendrils curled about his fingers. Then, his gaze returned to hers. “So you think you know a lot about falcons.”

  “A little,” she admitted breathlessly.

  “They can be very unpredictable,” he said.

  “I know,” Solace said.

  Suddenly, he grabbed both of her wrists in his hand, holding them firmly against his chest. “We have to tie jesses around their legs so they can’t fly away. This is how we keep the falcons from escaping.” He felt her heart hammering in her chest. He allowed one of his fingers to snake out and touch the rounded portion of her breast.

  He felt the tremor shoot through her body at the caress.

  “Logan,” she whispered.

  He knew he could take her right there and she wouldn’t object, would probably encourage him. But as much as he wanted her, he wanted to love her slowly and thoroughly this time. And here was not the place. He ran a finger over her lips. “Not yet, my lady,” he said. He could have sworn he heard her groan in protest as he stepped away from her and turned back to the falcon.

  The bird had finished eating the meat and was now staring at him with black eyes. Logan put his gloved hand to the bird’s chest, and this time it hopped up on his wrist.

  “Where are you from?” Solace asked softly.

  Logan grabbed the lure and headed toward the mews. Solace followed. “Cavindale,” Logan answered.

  “That’s a long way from here. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a wanderer,” he lied, elegantly. “I go where I want to go.”

  “Why settle here?”

  A grin stretched his lips as he turned his gaze back to her. I’m looking at the reason. “Coin,” he said. “Wandering pays very little.” He entered the mews and put the falcon on its perch.

  “But you know how to use your sword. Can’t you --?”

  Logan interrupted her, knowing what she was going to ask. “Just because I know how to use it doesn’t mean I like to.”

  Solace leaned against the doorframe, watching h
im put the lure away. “Where did you learn how to use a sword?”

  “When you have traveled as much as I have, you find many... opportunities... to learn how to wield a blade. You either learn or you die. It’s that simple.”

  “And your falcon?” she wondered.

  He turned a quizzical gaze to her.

  “Where did you find him?” she inquired.

  “I didn’t find him. He found me.” Logan paused in his work for a long moment, thinking about the first time he’d encountered his feathered companion. “The damned bird hasn’t left my side for five years.”

  “Where did he come from?”

  Logan looked out of the mews to see the black falcon, ‘his falcon’ as Solace had called it, watching him with its dark, keen eyes. For the first time, it struck him as odd that he had never given the bird a name. He just hadn’t thought the bird would shadow him for five years, so he hadn’t bothered to think of one. Well, now’s not the time to give him one, he thought. He turned back to Solace. “I was out in the woods hunting for my supper, looking for rabbit mostly,” he said, beginning his tale. “I spotted one hiding in the brush and nocked an arrow in my bow.”

  “A hunter, too,” Solace mused softly to herself, but loud enough for Logan to hear.

  “I took aim and just as I let the arrow fly, a flash of black raced across my vision and a rush of air swept past my face. I saw that it was a falcon diving for prey,” he paused and looked toward the falcon. “My prey!” he shouted at the bird.

  The falcon ignored his outburst.

  Logan turned back to see Solace grinning gaily at him. And he completely lost his train of thought. “Your prey...” she supplied.

  “Right,” Logan said with a nod. “He was going for the rabbit, but my arrow struck the rabbit first, knocking it to the side. The falcon was surprised by a move the rabbit wasn’t supposed to be able to make and faltered in its dive. He hit the ground hard.”

  “Did he get hurt?”

  Logan shook his head. “I don’t think so. Just mad. Because then he shot up into the sky and circled high above me as I gathered up my kill. I lit a fire and was preparing to cook the rabbit when I looked up to see the falcon staring at me from only a foot away with those damn beady eyes. It was the most foolhardy thing I have ever seen an animal do.