heartofthebetrayed_195-8e3.htm

by Heart Of The Betrayed (lit)

  "Aye, as a matter of fact, I am."

  "So shoot."

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or smack the little witch. It was obvious she was doing her best to put him off shooting the lyra. Well, bad luck for her. He was hungry, and at the imagined smell of frying meat, his saliva glands started to flow. He returned his attention to the animal that was now gazing cautiously in their direction.

  He took aim. Steady now. No suffering for the beast. A nice, clean kill. Steady, steady...

  "Of course, the lyrice will be almost an orphan," Dana whispered conversationally.

  He couldn’t help it. He started laughing. Startled, the lyra took off, leaving only churned grass behind him.

  "You frightened him off. We won’t be able to find him again so easily."

  "Evil wench. You didn’t want me to shoot him, did you?"

  "It was you who laughed and scared him away, not I."

  "‘Twas you who made me laugh!"

  "Don’t blame me."

  "You are very much to blame." Shaking his head, Garret straightened to his full height. "As you very well know."

  Standing, Dana waved her hand airily. "If it’ll make you feel better, then by all means, blame me."

  "Now what am I going to eat?" He looked ruefully in the direction the lyra had taken. "My evening meal just escaped, thanks to you."

  "Try fishing. Plenty of them in the river."

  Grinning, he walked alongside her back to the cottage.

  ~ * ~

  The afternoon passed pleasantly, conversation between them being carefully casual. Garret took care not to refer to the morning’s episode or tease Dana with sexual innuendos, while she deliberately kept her replies noncommittal.

  He fished and she lay in the grass, reading quietly.

  The evening meal consisted of fish and vegetables, he again cooking the food. This time they took the chairs outside and ate their meal while watching the sun sink below the horizon, and the moon come up to cast its white, ghostly light upon the land.

  The river swirled lazily and remembering the previous night, he said, "I do believe I’ll bathe tonight. Tell me, lass, where do you go to bathe?"

  "In the river. There’s soap under the kitchen sink."

  "Ah. I’ve not seen you go down there."

  Picking up the discarded plates, Dana stood up to leave. "I go during the night or early morn. Alone," she added, sending him a steely glance of warning.

  "Of course." He smiled genially. "I don’t suppose Darvk left any spare clothes in the bedroom?" Peeling off his vest, he held it up with a grimace. "I didn’t think to bring anything, under the circumstances, and these could do with a wash."

  The moonlight bathed the massive chest, outlining every smooth muscle that flexed and pulled with the trader’s movements. It was almost intoxicating.

  Swallowing, she turned away to enter the cottage, clutching the plates tightly in her hands. "There are some spare clothes in the robe. I’ll get them."

  Watching her almost scuttle inside the cottage, he leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms above his head, relief flaring through him. Nay, his actions that morn had not scared off the lass. If anything, mayhaps it would work in his favor, for now she was more aware of him. He knew by the crimson flush in those regal cheeks when she’d gazed at his naked chest.

  Dana rarely blushed. Aye, it seemed that more good than harm had come out of what could so easily have been a disastrous episode.

  She reappeared to drop a towel, clean vest and pants, and a cake of soap into his lap.

  "Thank you, lass." Gathering the items in his arms, he stood and stretched once more for effect before sauntering off in the direction of the river.

  Great stars! Dana groaned silently and re-entered the cottage. Trying to dispel the image of the magnificent specimen of manhood naked and attending his private ablutions, she washed the few dishes with more vigor than was necessary and retired to her room with a book.

  Sitting on the bed, she tried to concentrate on the words, but her ears were straining to hear for his return. He was gone a long time but eventually she heard the sound of boots on the stone floor, then a low pleasant voice humming a well-known, bawdy ditty.

  She scowled at the page. Bloody typical! Couldn’t sing a nice, decent song! Oh, no! He wouldn’t be a Daamen if he did!

  Knowing she was being unreasonable made her feel guilty. Knowing that it was her own stubborn denial of her attraction to Garret causing her to be unreasonable made her irritable. On top of that was her battle to control her instincts and emotions that urged her to go to the big trader and shout out her love to him. Combined guilt and irritability made her want to cry. To combat this despised sign of weakness, she grew angry.

  Damn him! Why did he have to come and screw things up for her? She’d been doing fine by herself until he’d come along with his charm and high-handedness!

  Caught up in the moody thoughts, the knock on the door startled her and she dropped the book, managing to grab it just before it hit the floor. Unfortunately her lunge tipped her off balance and she hit the floor instead.

  Hearing the muffled thump, Garret called out in concern, "Lass? Are you all right?’

  "I’m fine!"

  His brows rose in curiosity at the disgruntled reply. "You sound angry. Are you sure all is well?"

  "Yes, I’m sure!"

  Now what burr had gotten under the wench’s skirt to make her so irritable? Recalling the crimson blush on her cheeks, he slowly smiled. Playing on a hunch, he asked, "Do you need some help, my love?"

  "No, I bloody do not!"

  Oh, aye, frustration was clear in the tone. He was more than familiar with that feeling himself. A devilish twinkle lit his eyes. "Have I done something to... offend... you, sweetheart?"

  A brief silence followed by a more subdued voice. "No. It’s just me." A small hesitation, then stronger, more determined, she stated, "This is a side you will have to get used to seeing."

  "And what side is that, my little cherry?"

  The door jerked open and he found himself gazing down into flaring hazel eyes.

  "Moody, nasty and a downright mean person! Finished with the soap? Good!" She snatched it from his hand. "Goodnight!"

  The door slammed shut in his face.

  Grinning, he stripped off the borrowed clothes, turned off the light and lay on the sofa, snapping the cover briskly over himself. Hearing a muttered curse and thump, he guessed that Dana had climbed out of the window and was on her way to the river.

  She wasn’t gone long. Another muttered curse announced her return.

  The cottage went dark.

  Hearing the tossing and turning coming from the bedroom, he grinned wider. Someone was unsettled.

  He slept peacefully the whole night.

  ~ * ~

  Dressed in a short tunic borrowed from her cousin’s robe, bare feet, and with blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, Garret thought she looked sweet and innocent. A fairy sprite balancing on the railing of the bridge that crossed the river. The fairy sprite who was jeering at him.

  "It takes a real warrior to learn balance, trader."

  "Takes a fool to risk falling in the river."

  "A skilled balancer wouldn’t fall in. Come, it’s a skill we warriors practice."

  "As children?"

  "Oh, ha-ha. No. The skill and discipline we still practice now. Are you afraid?"

  "Listen, wench, I fear nothing!"

  "Then hop up, big brave trader. Let’s see who can last the distance."

  "What distance?"

  "The length of the bridge."

  Dubiously, he eyed the railings. "Seems an unnecessary skill."

  "Once, when bounty hunters were hot on my tail in a tavern, I made it across the roof and into another building by running across a narrow beam. Now tell me it’s not a worthwhile skill."

  "Are you telling the truth?"

  "You’ll never know, will you? But I guarantee you’ll always wo
nder." She smirked down at him.

  He grinned back. The week spent in her company had only made him love her more. Beneath the prickly exterior he’d discovered a wicked sense of humor, which showed the more she relaxed in his company.

  Pitting her skills against his greater strength was something she obviously enjoyed. He’d also discovered a favorite past time they both shared, sitting before an open fire, eating baked potatoes and sharing stories, both humorous and otherwise, of people and planets where they’d been.

  "Well, are you coming up, or do you concede to my greater skill?"

  One brow arched up teasingly. "Saucy wench, aren’t you? Tell me, have you perfected the skill of falling?"

  "Falling? What are you talking about?"

  "You."

  The glint in his eyes warned her even before he started forward. "Don’t you dare!"

  One strong arm caught at the back of her knees and she fell into his waiting arms.

  He smirked. "Never dare a Daamen, lass. Male or female, we all rise to a challenge!"

  "Your skill is trickery, trader."

  "I’m deeply wounded."

  "I hope so."

  "Mayhaps a kiss might heal the pain?"

  Without thinking, she planted a laughing kiss on his mouth. She didn’t know who was most shocked, he because she’d actually done it, or she for the same reason. It was the first kiss they’d shared in a week and the arms holding her tightened. It felt so good, and the stars help her, she wanted another taste of what she’d denied herself. Slowly she pressed her lips to his once more.

  His mouth captured hers hungrily, molding to the softness. God, he’d waited so long. He’d ached to kiss her and touch her more intimately, but he’d held back, waiting for her to make the first move. Now that she had, he kissed her with all his suppressed desire.

  She responded with heated passion.

  They were both breathing hard when their lips broke contact.

  "Well." He grinned crookedly. "That was rather nice."

  She wasn’t too sure what to say or even where to look, so she simply gazed at her knees.

  "For me, anyway," Garret added.

  Knowing he was looking at her, she dragged her gaze up to meet his. At the warmth in his gaze, she blushed a little.

  "Are you embarrassed, lass?"

  "What makes you think that?"

  "The fact that you’ve turned red."

  "It’s the sun."

  "Oh, aye." He chuckled.

  "Wretch." She thumped his chest lightly. "I think you’d better put me down."

  "Why? I like the feel of you in my arms."

  She liked it, too. "I’m too heavy."

  "You’re just right."

  "You would say that." She struggled a little. "Come on, Garret, we can’t stay like this forever."

  "Why not?"

  She stilled and the amusement fled from his face. Oddly, she wasn’t surprised at his words. Nor panicked.

  Seeing the steady way she regarded him, Garret asked quietly, "Have we entered a new phase of our relationship?"

  "I don’t think so."

  "Nay?"

  She drew a deep breath. They had, there was no denying it. But... "I’m so unsure, Garret. I don’t know what to think."

  His arms tightened a fraction. "Mayhaps ‘tis time we talked a bit more about us."

  "Us?"

  "Our dreams, our hopes for the future. How we envisage our future. How we envisage ourselves."

  This was getting too deep. Now she was scared.

  Instinctively he felt her fear. "Lass, I’ll start talking first. If you don’t want to add anything, ‘tis fine. But I need to tell you of my dreams."

  "Oh, hell."

  "I’m pleased you’re so agreeable."

  "Garret, I just--"

  "You only have to listen, lass. I promise, I’ll not pressure you into revealing anything. But I want to share with you. Please, just listen?"

  How could she deny him? She wanted to know what his dreams were. She wanted to share in his thoughts. Great stars, she was a glutton for punishment. "Very well."

  He smiled his pleasure and carried her across the bridge and into the shade of the huge willow, where he set her gently down onto the thick carpet of grass. Easily he lay down on his side before her, propping himself up on one elbow.

  Idly plucking one of the dozens of wildflowers growing abundantly around them, he twirled it between long fingers. "I have strong family ties, similar to those you have with your sister warriors. I come from a happy home. It isn’t perfect, no family is. We argue, we laugh, disagree, and come to each other’s aid in times of need. My parents were strict when they had to be but always loving, always having our best interests at heart. They still do." He grinned. "To them, we’ll always be children."

  Silently she drew one knee up to her chest, resting her chin atop it, remembering her own childhood. There had been good times. At first.

  "We grew up, and my siblings wed. I see their children, their home life. I’m welcome in their homes. That life suites them but ’twasn’t enough for me. I wanted to travel, to see new places, do everything a Daamen trader does. I have loved my life and been content with what I have."

  "So what changed?" Dana cleared her throat. "I mean, what dreams could you have if you’re so content?"

  "Circumstances change. People change. I was young--still am. But older and, I would hope, wiser. My life needs more now." He regarded her steadily before plucking another wildflower and threading it through the stem of the first. "I’ve met different people, learnt more about life."

  She inhaled the fragrance of the yellow blossom she held.

  Studying the flowers, he reached for another. "In the back of my mind I’ve always wanted a family of my own one day, but it never really surfaced as a longing until I met you."

  Her heart picked up pace and she couldn’t meet his eyes. "Instant love? It’s not possible, you know."

  "I never said instantly. I admit, at first I didn’t love you. How could I? I didn’t know you. But I was interested in you as a person." At the raised brow, he sighed. "All right, as a beautiful wench, too. You intrigued me and as I got to know you more, my curiosity turned to liking, then an affection."

  "I thought you were going to talk about future dreams?" She shifted on the grass, a warmth inside her.

  "I am. ‘Tis all related to what I’m saying now."

  "Oh."

  He winked at her before carefully adding the wildflower to the growing chain in his deft hands. "Interested, are you?"

  She rolled her eyes but was unable to deny it.

  "Anyway, being around you brought my wants to the fore, shaping them into the need I have now. ‘Tis not enough to simply travel and visit other places. I need something more, an anchor, a haven--"

  "Sounds to me as though you need to go home. Or get yourself a hound, not a lifemate."

  "Wicked wench. I need a lifemate who’ll take care of me."

  Her lips started to twitch. "Won’t Mummy do?"

  One dark brow arched devilishly. "Certainly not for what I have in mind!"

  "What do you want, then? Apart from a cook, cleaner and protector combined?"

  Garret’s face grew serious and soberly he eyed her. "I need a partner, a lover to be by my side through the good times and bad, to bear my children and share in their upbringing. To lie in my embrace at night, to share secrets with me."

  Hot and cold flashes ran through her. He wanted this with her.

  "I need a lifemate. I need you to be my lifemate."

  Her gaze dropped to the flower lying still in her palm and she swallowed.

  Awaiting her response, Garret studied her quietly. She sat so quietly, her head bent, a stray strand of blonde hair brushing her cheek. He heard her sigh and watched her leg lower while she rearranged herself to sit cross-legged.

  "You can’t be surprised, lass. You know ‘tis you I love, you I want to share my life with."

  "I know," she
replied softly, absently brushing the lock of hair back behind her ear.

  He let his gaze wander to the river, watching the lazy swirl of water, wondering what she was thinking, and what she felt. Needing to know but determined to keep his promise not to pressure her into revealing anything.

  She contemplated him from beneath the shelter of thick lashes. He confided so easily, was so open about his dreams and needs. His love for her. How could someone like him love someone like her?

  "We’re such opposites."

  His head turned and he looked at her. "Are we?"

  "Yes."

  His heartbeat picked up but his manner remained calm. "Do you wish to share your thoughts with me, lass?"

  She sighed. Scratched her arm. Studied the petals of the flower. Did she? Could she be as open as the man waiting so patiently for her reply? "I don’t know. I’ve never told anyone my dreams."

  "Not even Reya?" He was surprised.

  "She had enough problems of her own."

  "True enough. Still, I am here now. If you wish to talk, fine. If not," he smiled crookedly. "I still love you."

  "You say it so easily."

  "‘Tis easy to say when I am with the one I love."

  "So, why is it so hard for me?"

  "Because I accept it."

  "So have I."

  They studied each other soberly.

  "I don’t fear it, lass."

  "I do."

  "With me?"

  Her gaze switched to the river.

  The slight hurt he felt shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It wasn’t conceivable that he could change her mind in a week, no matter how close they’d become, how friendly. It didn’t stop him from wishing it could have done so. He returned his own gaze to the flower chain forming in his hands.

  "My family was happy at first."

  The low words brought his attention snapping back up to the speaker.

  Looking across the sparkling waters, Dana continued quietly. "As I’ve said before, Father was the center of our little world. I used to dream of a man I could love, who would bring me flowers and tell me how lucky he was to have me in his life. I wanted a home, several lycats, some hounds, a lifemate. Everything we had. I never thought of children, that came later, but by then," she shrugged, "It was only a thought that I’d never have them."