heartofthebetrayed_195-8e3.htm

by Heart Of The Betrayed (lit)

  "Fruit is what I tend to eat a lot of when I’m alone. There are wild vegetables in the forest--and animals, if you care to kill them."

  He cast her a quizzical glance. "From the way you speak, I take it you don’t care for hunting?"

  Relieved to be on a neutral subject, she replied readily, "Actually, I loath the killing of animals. The thrill of the chase I enjoy, pitting my skills against those of the wild animals that know their surroundings. The kill, however, I just never got used to it."

  "Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never killed an animal to eat?"

  "Now that would be lying. During the outlaw years, I’ve had to hunt and kill a few or we’d have starved."

  "What about when Reya and you were mercenaries?"

  "Reya killed what we hunted." She entered the cottage. "I don’t have the stomach for it."

  Following her inside, he sat down at the table and watched her pick up a small basket from the bench. "You mean...?"

  "I puke my guts up after every animal kill." She set the basket on the table. "Help yourself."

  Fascinated by this new and unexpected insight into Dana, Garret picked up an apple and bit into it. "But I’ve seen you eat meat."

  "Of course I do--when someone else kills and prepares it. I’d have to be starving to do it myself."

  "So I guess I can’t expect you to hunt and kill my evening meal? What a pity." He sighed dramatically. "And I had such high hopes of a domesticated wife!"

  Dana’s head shot up, eyes flashing indignantly. "If you think I’m going to wait on you hand and foot, you big oaf--"

  Garret flung his head back, roaring with laughter.

  When the laughter continued, all unease fled and she started to frown. Then her foot started tapping. "Just what is so amusing, trader?"

  It took a few minutes for him to bring his laughter under control. He wiped his eyes dry of the tears of mirth, and chuckled up at the irate wench standing with hands on her generously rounded hips. "I’m sorry, my sweet, but your face!"

  "Very amusing."

  Still chuckling, he stood and picked up the basket. "Come, show me where the fruit trees are and I’ll pick some more fruit to eat."

  Shaking her head, she followed him out the door. "This is going to be a long two weeks, I can see."

  Whistling cheerfully, he swung the basket by the handle and walked beside her.

  He’d succeeded in banishing some of her stilted unease by teasing and getting a fiery response. This was the Dana he knew and loved, fiery, proud and straightforward. Natural. Unafraid of anything and anyone. Glancing sideways at her, he wondered what she was thinking.

  She was wondering if she’d taken on more than she could handle by agreeing to his proposition.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in picking fruit and digging up vegetables, enough to feed and satisfy them both.

  Garret kept up light conversation, throwing in the odd teasing comment to spark her up when she grew too pensive. But she found that his brief periods of silence, when he was concentrating on something, rather companionable. Easy. And his droll sense of humor caught her off guard several times, producing a smile from her before she realized it.

  All in all, the afternoon went well and Garret was satisfied. Extremely satisfied.

  He surprised Dana by volunteering to cook a stew, without meat, making it deliciously tasty by the addition of herbs. Watching her take a tentative taste, he grinned when her eyebrows rose.

  "Very nice. My compliments to the cook."

  "I accept," he said modestly, returning his attention to the bowl of stew before him. He was hungry, the fruit he’d eaten during the afternoon certainly not filling his large frame for long.

  "It’ll be nice to have a domesticated male around."

  He nearly choked on a mouthful of stew, and looked up to meet her bland gaze. "I beg your pardon?"

  "Do you also clean and make beds?"

  "Clean?" he repeated, amazed. "Make beds?"

  Dana’s lips started to twitch. "Mop floors?" She gestured around the cottage with a lazy wave of her hand. "This place could do with a clean and--"

  "Don’t even think about it, wench!"

  "Now there’s no need to be so modest about your domestication. I promise not to tell a soul." Devilment danced in her eyes, "Unless they pay me enough to do so."

  His face broke into a grin. "You’re an evil wench, Dana of the Reekas, with an evil sense of humor."

  "Thank you." She took a dainty sip of water. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

  "‘Twas meant as one."

  Suddenly she was curious to know more about him. "What of your family? I have never heard you speak of them."

  He chewed and swallowed a mouthful of stew before answering. "Haven’t I? I don’t know why, they mean so much to me."

  "Do you have any siblings?"

  "A sister and brother. Both are wed with children."

  "You’re close to them?"

  "As you are with your sister warriors. We’ve been through hard times together."

  "Hard times." She nodded understandingly. "Blood kin is good to have during hard times."

  A companionable silence fell between them, each lost in thoughts of their past.

  ~ * ~

  The night hours passed. All was peaceful and quiet, so when a softly muttered ‘Damn!’ came to his ears, Garret awoke instantly. Immediately he tensed, straining to hear. Was Dana attempting to run away again?

  Disappointment surged through him, heavy and unwelcome. He’d been so sure she would stay and give their newly budding relationship a chance to work.

  Fourteen

  Cursing mentally to himself, Garret started to get up from the sofa, only to hear the sound of the bedroom door opening quietly. Quickly he lay back down, closing his eyes. Mayhaps he was wrong. She could be going to get a drink of water, after all.

  He didn’t hear her approach, but a faint floral scent informed him that she was nearby, possibly checking that he did indeed sleep, listening to his breathing in the dark.

  He made himself breath evenly and deeply, hoping he’d be able to fool her into thinking he slept. It must have worked, for he heard a soft sigh of relief, barely audible. Opening his eyes the merest crack, he saw the dim outline re-enter her room and the door close behind her.

  Flinging the cover aside, he jumped to his feet and hurried over to the door, pressing his ear against the wood, trying to hear what she was doing. A soft thump made him frown until a sudden thought made him open the door carefully and take a peek.

  The room was empty. The covers on the bed were thrown back. For one awful second he really thought Dana had run, but then he saw the backpack near the cupboard, the moonlight shining through the window picking out the neatly folded clothes atop it. She wouldn’t have fled without her gear.

  Curiously, he walked over to the window, for it was the only way she could have left the room. Peering out, he scanned the area before finally spotting her. She was heading for the river.

  Not bothering to waste time pulling on his vest and boots, he climbed through the window and followed her, being careful to keep to the shadows of the trees.

  When she stopped, it was on an outcrop of rock that hung over the lazily swirling water. A distance away, he kept the thick trunk of a tree between them, ensuring he was out of sight.

  Dana dropped something onto the rock and spread it out quickly. Obviously a towel or rug. Sitting upon it, she drew one knee up to her chest and proceeded to undo the rawhide strip wrapped in a criss-cross fashion around her boot.

  Well, this was an interesting development. Garret grinned. Obviously his wench was going for a moonlight swim. Leaning against the tree trunk, he watched avidly as she drew her boots off and wriggled her toes blissfully.

  His grin faltered when she stood up, her fingers picking at the knot that fastened the rawhide lacing holding her bodice closed. The grin disappeared altogether as the lacing was pulled free of the eyelets of the
bodice before finally dropping to the rock.

  When the bodice followed the path of the rawhide lace, his mouth went dry. Now he could see her breasts, full, round and generous, thrusting upward proudly. His loins suddenly felt heavy. But that was nothing compared to when the belt was tossed aside carelessly, and the split leather skirt slid down long legs to be kicked free.

  The woman upon the rock stretched sensuously, lazily, and the moonlight bathed her in its white glow, making shadows cast themselves in the most interesting places. Full breasts rose when she stretched her arms up and arched back, emphasizing the narrow waist and flat stomach, the flare of hips and long, strong legs. And the shadowed, mysterious place between the shapely thighs.

  Her womanhood. The entrance to her body.

  Garret kept his eyes on the wench, his staff thickening, lengthening and starting to throb.

  When she turned and bent, picking up what must have been a bar of soap, the moonlight cast shadows on the intimate dips and curves of her buttocks and he broke into a sweat.

  Straightening, Dana walked to the edge of the rock shelf, poised for a moment, then dived cleanly into the water.

  Heart thudding in his chest, it took all Garret’s control to prevent himself from joining her, from dragging her from the water, pressing her to the ground and driving himself into her beautiful, sweet body... From betraying her trust.

  He knew he should leave, return to the cottage, but he couldn’t do it. Not when she resurfaced and moved closer to the bank, stopping waist high in the water, and raising her hand to run the soap over and around her breasts.

  Gritting his teeth against the rising heat in his blood, his gaze followed the path of the soap. Over shapely shoulders, skimming across slender arms, and flowing down her stomach to disappear into the water...

  His manhood was pulsing, a painful reaction to seeing the lass he desired innocently touch and cleanse the places he was forbidden.

  When she shifted in the water, a small ripple forming around her, Garret knew the bar of soap had slid between her thighs, slick and smooth against the inner, sensitive flesh, and it was more than he could bear. His hand slid beneath the waistband of his pants to the jutting manhood throbbing against his belly and he closed his fingers around himself.

  It was either self-satisfaction, or hauling Dana from the river and taking her in the grass, thereby destroying the fragile relationship they had. His hand moved faster as he sought release, biting his lip against the moans caused by his actions.

  Dana glanced towards the cottage. Had she heard something? All was quiet so she shrugged, threw the soap onto the rock, and plunged back into the water, rinsing the fragrant suds from her body.

  Unable to sleep, she’d tossed and turned in the big, suddenly lonely, bed. A dull heat had been in her veins, inspired by visions of herself and the big handsome trader entwined together, doing...it.

  Sweet heaven, she could only guess what...it...how it...felt. On her travels she’d seen whores coupling with outlaws and mercenaries alike, uncaring of who saw them, but she’d turned aside swiftly, repulsed by the hoarse grunts, sweaty limbs and foul language they’d gasped.

  Somehow, she knew it wouldn’t be the same with Garret. He’d be kind and considerate, caressing and touching... The dull ache starting between her thighs had her bolting from the bed.

  What she’d needed was a bath and a swim in the chill night waters of the river, to cool off before she jumped on Garret sleeping in the next room and practically raped him!

  He’d probably love it.

  So here she was, diving and swimming in the crystal waters until she tired and the heat in her veins had faded to a normal temperature.

  Climbing out of the river, she sat down upon the towel spread across the rock and leaned back on her arms, bending her knees and planting her feet flat on the towel. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh smells of the countryside. The faint breeze was cool and dried the water that trickled down her body.

  Behind the tree, Garret spent himself. His chest and shoulders heaved with the effort of staying quiet, nostrils flaring with the deep breaths he sucked into his lungs.

  Who said relieving oneself brought satisfaction? Mayhaps in the past ‘twas true, but now all he felt was a drained relief. But no satisfaction. The only satisfaction he’d gain would be when he was buried inside the delicious blonde’s body, when he spent himself in her heated depths, and spilled his seed inside her silken cavern.

  Lifting his head, he nearly groaned aloud. She was sitting sideways on the rock ledge, relaxed. She could have been a nature sprite, a figment of his lustful imagination. Rivulets of moonlit water dripped from her hair to run down her arms. Trails of moisture slithered down her arched throat, spilled over her shoulders and slid down the curves of her breasts to hang like diamond drops from the tips of her nipples, puckered and hardened from the cool breeze.

  Oh, God, he could feel his staff stir to life again! Garret did the only thing he could. Keeping to the shadows, he fled back to the cottage.

  ~ * ~

  Perched on the low branch of a tree overlooking the river, Dana curiously watched Garret’s approach. Brown hair was tousled charmingly and he wore only tight pants and boots. He looked rumpled and tired.

  "Is this your normal morning look?" she asked conversationally. "Because if it is, you look like something the lycat dragged in."

  Looking in the direction of the voice, he spotted her instantly. The wench was sitting on a thick branch, one leg stretched out along its length, the nearest leg hanging down and swinging lazily. Leaning back against the tree trunk, she looked relaxed, contented and rested.

  And why not? he thought almost sourly. When she’d returned to the cottage, she’d slept like a babe for the rest of the night. This he knew because he’d tossed and turned all night, fighting his desire, knowing that forbidden fruit lay just beyond the door. Only his honor kept him from flinging that door open and tasting that fruit.

  Damn his honor.

  "My, my, who’s grumpy, then?" she drawled.

  Coming to a stop beside the branch, Garret found himself on eye-level with the shapely leg stretched out on the limb. His gaze slowly traveled up the curved hip, trim waist, rounded breasts and slender throat until finally meeting mildly amused eyes.

  "Is this your normal attitude in the morns?" he replied.

  "Depends." She flicked the leaf she was twirling away.

  "Odd, the few times I’ve been around when you’ve woken up, your attitude was anything but cheerful."

  Dana grinned. "The sofa was uncomfortable?"

  "Huh?"

  "You couldn’t sleep last night?"

  A terrible suspicion crept into his mind. Had she seen him after all? Did she know what he’d done? He kept his features blank. "How do you know?"

  "I awoke a few times and heard you tossing around. Sofa not big enough after all?"

  Although tempted to inform her that he’d actually had something big enough for her during the night, and that had been the cause of his restlessness, he wisely decided against it. "‘Tis big enough, just strange."

  "I thought you single Daamen males were used to sleeping in strange beds."

  Grey eyes sharpened.

  "You know," she continued blithely. "The Daamens are almost legendary for their lustfulness. No easy wench is safe from their charm and good looks."

  "Is that so?" Tiredness fled at her obvious sparring mood. "And do you find us charming and good looking also?"

  "Far from it." She yawned. "Obnoxious, I’d say."

  Stretching his arm out across her leg, he leaned against the branch and looked up at her, enjoying the startled expression on her face which, to her credit, she quickly hid.

  "Obnoxious, you say? Obviously this is one area I’ll have to work on, convincing you that we are actually quite likeable."

  "I’ll take your word for it. I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble, especially as you’re so tired.
"

  The touch of his skin on her bare leg was causing her heart havoc, but she hid it well, keeping the amusement on her face the only emotion showing.

  "I’m never too tired to convince you of anything, lass." Garret smiled. "Shall we start now?"

  With his tousled hair, rumpled appearance, and rakish smile, he looked capable of anything. In fact, she had no doubt that he was capable of anything.

  At her silence, he coaxed, "Come, lass, where’s your sense of adventure? How can I prove to you just how likeable I am?"

  She found him too likeable, that was the problem. If he went so far as to try and prove it, doing goodness knew what... The thought was tantalizing.

  Even as good sense warned against it, she asked, "How would you prove it, trader?"

  A gleam lit his eyes, and the arm across her leg slid back until the big hand rested just above her knee. "Why, anyway you wish, my sweet."

  Dangerous territory beckoned irresistibly. "Are we talking physically or mentally?" Now where had that come from?

  The big hand inched ever so slowly up the smooth length of her thigh, and the deep voice dropped down to rough velvet. "Mind games are all right, but physical games, well now, I consider that a perfect place to start. What say you, my hot little honey pot?"

  Hells bells, the words he used in place of her name! And hot wasn’t far from the truth.

  She was becoming quite warm from the sensuous feel of his calloused, hard palm moving oh, so slowly, up her thigh. This would never do!

  Slapping her palm down upon the advancing hand, she returned quickly, "Physical is not a good idea!"

  "Nay?" One dark brow arched in devilish amusement. "I beg to differ, and as you pointed out, Daamen men are very experienced, so I would know." The hand slipped around to the inside of her thigh and one long finger gently rubbed against sensitive skin.

  She jumped at the touch. "Garret!"

  He gazed innocently up at her. "Aye?"

  "Shift your hand!"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes! Now!" Then she’d jump down and put a safe distance between herself and this maddening male!

  "Always willing to please a pretty wench," he said, and swept his hand straight up the remaining length of her thigh.