by Myles, Jill
“Of hawking?” He raised a bushy eyebrow.
“Yes, hawking,” she said quickly. “I thought I saw a hawking party earlier today and was going to tell you about it. It was quite a lively group.”
She was lying through her teeth, of course, but perhaps that would distract him.
It distracted him more than she’d anticipated. His face mottled and turned an ugly red. “Someone was riding close to here? Did you see their colors?”
Hope was startled by his low, possessive tone. An uneasy feeling prickled over her skin. “I’m sure it was nothing–”
“Did they stop? Did they see the tower?”
Well, this was a bad idea. “I’m sure they didn’t–”
“Callum!” Walter said sharply, getting to his feet.
“Yes, your grace,” Callum said, getting to his feet as well. He braced his hand on his sword belt, his expression grim. “How may I serve?”
Though the words were obedient, there was a flat note in his tone that told Hope that he wasn’t overly fond of the prince.
Walter pointed at the tower floor. “I need you to stay here tonight. I want a report if anyone comes back during the evening and tries to harm my beloved.”
She made a small noise of protest in her throat, trying not to seem too excited at the prospect.
Walter’s paranoia was just playing into exactly what she wanted–an evening alone with Callum.
Genius. Now she just needed to play it up.
“Do you think they will come back?” Hope asked, wringing her hands in an effort to look pitiful and weak.
Walter leaned in and gave her another quick kiss. “I cannot say for sure, my pet, but rest assured, Callum will guard your tower and ensure that no one stops by.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” she said gravely, her eyes wide.
He nodded. “Precisely. Callum, I’ll return in the morning to check in on my love. Until then, I want you to stay at the base of the tower.”
Callum nodded. “As you wish.”
“I must return to the castle myself,” Walter said, glancing at the darkening skies. “There’s a feast tonight and I don’t wish to miss it.”
“Of course,” she murmured, barely concealing her joy. “Until tomorrow.”
“Until then,” he said, and leaned in to give her another kiss, this one more sloppy than the last.
She waited as both men descended the rope ladder, and then she unhooked it from the ledge and gave Walter a small, cheerful wave as he set off on his horse. Callum remained at the base of the tower, carefully winding the ladder and replacing it in his pack.
When the last light of day was just about to disappear, she peeked out the window. “Do you want to come up?”
Callum winked, something she almost missed as her hair began to tumble forward. “Only if ye want me there, lass.”
Oh boy, she wanted him something awful. She’d thought about his mouth and his kisses all day long.
She’d ached between her legs and couldn’t wait to feel his weight settle there again. Hope frowned as her tumbling hair seemed to slow with every moment, though. The light was fading fast, and it made her hair spill downward at a much slower rate. Antsy, she bit her lip. What if it was too late in the day and her hair wouldn’t grow long enough?
But eventually the long, dark strands brushed his fingertips. A few moments later, he nodded.
“Brace yerself, lovely.”
She ran back to the pole and wrapped her hair around it twice, waiting for the familiar tug. It came a moment later, and she grew wet, her nipples hard, as she pictured Callum’s broad shoulders straining to climb her hair. Strange how that was such an erotic picture to her.
He appeared over the ledge a minute later, and dropped onto the floor. His beautiful mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin.
Hope felt suddenly awkward and shy. She’d barely known this man for a day or two, and here she was, lusting after him instead of the prince.
Thinking dirty thoughts about him all day. Setting up a freaking rendezvous with him. This wasn’t her…was it?
She wrung her hands.
When he reached for her, she gave a small, nervous laugh and stepped to the side. “H-how are you today?”
He raised an eyebrow at her stammering. “Well,” he said slowly, clearly deciding to play along. “And you, lady?”
“Just fine,” she said. And she was, truthfully. Every day that she woke up healthy felt like a gift, it really did. “Things are a little quiet in the tower but I truly cannot complain.”
“Can ye not?” Callum seemed amused by this. “Are ye here in the tower of your own free will, then?”
“To be honest, I don’t know if I am or not,” she said, feeling a little perplexed about things. She gave him an inquisitive look. “I don’t suppose you know about me? The real Rapunzel? Why she’s here in this tower?”
He shook his head. “Afraid not. I am only visiting court for a short time before I must return home to my clan. I had not intended on staying as long as I have, but the prince commanded me to assist him, and here I am.”
Oh. Was he not local, then? Would he be leaving soon? Abandoning her to Prince Walter? The thought made her entire body tense. “Are you not from here?”
“Nay, lass. I’m from the highlands. I’m the laird of my clan, Clan Kincaide. Our land is a good ride from here, to the north.”
That didn’t sound good. Dreading the answer, she asked, “How long are you here for?”
“Until the prince’s business is done and he releases me.” She guessed that she was the prince’s business. That was either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how she looked at it. Good, because Callum was staying until this thing was worked out. Bad, because if it ‘worked out’ that meant she probably ended up marrying the prince.
Hope chewed on a fingernail, thinking. Why would the prince pick a stranger–a lord of some kind–to act as a guardsman? “Why you?”
“Pardon, lass?” He almost looked affronted by the question.
She blushed again. “I mean, why did the prince pick you to help him out? Why not a regular guardsman?”
“I’m a good man with a sword,” he said, a hint of pride in his words. “And Kincaides are legendary for our silence on delicate situations. We are trustworthy warriors. When the prince asked me to accompany him three days ago, he told me no’ to ask questions. I did no’. ’Tis not my business.” So he’d been picked because he was a great bodyguard and he kept his mouth shut.
And Walter valued one–or both–of those traits. Either what he was hiding was a great treasure…or something else was going on. Like he didn’t want anyone to know about it. Hope wasn’t sure which category she fell into.
“I see,” was all she said, since he was looking at her expectantly.
He moved close, studying her, and reached a hand up to cup her cheek. “What’s troubling ye?” She wanted to lean into his touch, to relax and not worry about her problems. But her mind kept whirling with questions. Why was she in this tower? Who had cursed her?
Someone had clearly done so with the intent of trapping her here.
“You met the other me? The other Rapunzel?”
“I did. Ye do seem different,” he said, rubbing his finger along the bottom of her mouth. His thumb was deliciously rough and callused, and it sent chills through her body.
“I do? How was I before?”
Callum grinned. “More cowardly. More timid. Fragile. Lots of weeping.” Weeping? Cowardly? Hope grimaced. “I wish you would have told me that earlier. It would have been handy to be more like her the last time the prince came by.” He hadn’t seemed to notice the change. Or had he and wasn’t saying anything? It was impossible to tell.
She’d have to remember to be more ‘fragile’ in the future when Prince Walter stopped by.
“The other Rapunzel would certainly have never propositioned me,” he said in a low, rough voice, and that thumb continued to stroke her lower lip sensua
lly. “I canna say I prefer her.” That familiar, warm tingle shot through her body again, and her skin prickled with awareness of how close he was standing. How tall and strong he was. How he smelled of outdoors and ever-so-faintly of spice and male skin. “You prefer me?”
“Can ye not tell?” he said softly, leaning in to brush his mouth lightly against hers in the barest of kisses before pulling away again. “Were ye the other lass, I’d have turned down your sweet proposition. Told ye to save your purity for your husband.”
She tilted her head back, staring up into his eyes. “But me?” she prompted.
“You,” he said with a thick burr in his throat, “I’ve half a mind to drag out of this tower myself, and hie ye back to the highlands for myself. For keeps.”
Oh, that sounded far too lovely. A tingle of excitement flashed through her, only to quickly die. She sighed. “Not with this curse. At least, not until it’s gone.”
“And not until ye turn away Prince Walter,” he prompted gently. “I canna go against my king or his son.” How exactly did one turn away a prince? She grimaced. “It seems we have a few sticky situations to figure out.”
Step one–find out who had stuck her in this damn tower.
Step two–figure out the curse.
Step three–ditch the prince.
She placed her clenched fist over her steadily beating heart, and felt a surge of confidence. She could do this. No problem.
“The figurin’ out can wait until morning, can it not?” Callum asked, leaning in to press another feather-light kiss on her mouth. “Or are ye regretting the time ye spent with me?”
“Not at all,” she protested, curling her fingers in the thick, wooly fabric of his plaid.
“I’m no’ a prince. I am not rich. My people live happily in the highlands, but we are not a wealthy clan.”
“I don’t care,” she said stubbornly. “We find a way to lift this curse, and I will gladly live in a nice grass hut for the rest of my life.”
He chuckled. “Grass hut? Where do you get such notions, lass?” Well, that was probably more Hawaii than, say, Scotland, but whatever. She knew enough about medieval times to fill a thimble.
She tilted her head back, silently asking for another kiss. “I don’t regret what we’ve done. Should I prove it?”
His dark eyes gleamed. “Perhaps you should.”
A shiver of pleasure ripped through her at the low, delicious tone of his voice. “One proving, coming right up,” she said breathily, just as she planted her mouth on his.
His tongue slicked against her own, the kiss hot, wet and open-mouthed. She moaned in response.
Nothing had ever tasted as delicious as this man. She was greedy for him and his touch, even though they scarcely knew each other.
It was as if she’d missed out on so much that she was determined to squeeze it all into this second chance, even if it was just a week of living.
She might not get another week, after all.
Hope wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. He grunted in surprise at her renewed efforts, his hands sliding to her waist and lower, to her ass. He cupped her, dragging her hips until they were cradled against his, and she could feel the length of him through the layers of clothing.
The ache between her legs suddenly felt empty, and she whimpered. “Don’t go slow this time,” she said between kisses. Her hand moved to his cock, rubbing it through the fabric. “I need you.” He laughed. “Lass, last time we did no’ go slow either.” It had felt like an eternity, though. An eternity of endless pleasure. She ignored his protest and tugged at the large gold pin holding the plaid at his shoulder. Hope tossed it to the ground and tugged at his clothing, pleased to see that it fell away that much easier.
Callum’s hand had moved to her front. “Fast?”
“Yes,” she breathed. They had a whole night tonight and she wanted to squeeze as much living into it as she could. It made her sound greedy, though. “For starters, of course. We can move on to the slow stuff later.”
“Naturally,” he said with a slow smile, and leaned in to kiss her mouth again, even as he tugged at the fur-lined overgarment she wore, dropping it to the ground. Her under-dress (she wished she knew the name of it) laced in the front, and his expert fingers dragged through them quickly, undoing the laces in record time.
“You’ve clearly done this before,” she said with a laugh.
He only grinned at her and began to kiss her neck, distracting her again. “Is that a bad thing?” She smiled, tilting her head back. “Not as long as you’re clean.” He paused, stopping in his assault on her neck. Callum stared at her, one brow rising. “Clean?” Hope blushed and gestured at her privates. “You know. Clean. No diseases.”
“Ah. No, lass, no pox.”
“Pox? That sounds rather dreadful,” she said, curling her fingers on his now bare chest. It was sprinkled with dark hair and she decided she liked that. “Though I suppose the modern words we have for it are not much better–”
“Hope, love, can we no’ talk about the pox when I’m undressing ye?”
“Sorry,” she said meekly. “Guess it’s a downer.”
“It is a wee bit o’ a downer,” he echoed, and tugged the last of the laces free. Her gown dropped to the floor in a heap of fabric at her feet, and Hope was bare.
She swallowed hard as he stood there and stared at her for a long moment. The tower was dark and shadowy, but she’d lit all the candles just before he’d arrived because she hated sitting in the dark something awful. More than anything, she wanted to be out in the open. Out breathing the fresh air.
Instead, she was trapped in a tower.
He reverently laid a hand over one of her small breasts, cupping it. “Just as lovely as I remembered.” She shivered at the touch, moving closer to him again and lifting her mouth for another kiss. Callum’s mouth swooped over hers, the kiss hot, and wet, and brief.
“Ye wanted to go fast this time?” he whispered huskily. “Did ye not?” She nodded, her gaze on his mouth, shining and slick in the candlelight.
God, he was a gorgeous man.
He pulled her close, and his hands clenched on her bottom again. Before she realized what he was doing, he grabbed her and lifted her into the air. Hope squeaked in surprise, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms encircling his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Dragging you to bed with me,” he said in a low, rough voice, and leaned forward for another kiss.
Hope pressed her mouth to his, moaning when his tongue stroked into her mouth in a quick thrust.
She felt his cock jerk against her bottom, rubbing up against her as he walked.
They moved to her narrow cot. Hope knew from experience that the so-called mattress was little more than hard-packed, smelly straw with a blanket over it. But at least she had that much. She continued to cling to his body even as he lowered her to the bed, pinning her underneath him. He didn’t get up off of her, though. Instead, he rocked his hips against hers, letting her feel the length of his arousal.
A soft gasp escaped her throat.
“Are ye wet and ready for me, Hope?”
She shivered when he used her name. It sounded so good on his lips. “I–I don’t know.” All she knew was she wanted him to keep touching her.
His hand slid between them and brushed against her curls. She gasped again as she felt his fingers slide between the lips of her pussy and stroke there.
“Wet and soft,” he said in a low voice that made her insides clench with need. “But I think I want you wetter.”
She bit her lip, eyes wide as she watched his face. He had this intense, self-possessed look on his face as he touched her. It was so arousing to see. It was as if he knew how much his touch turned her on, how much she liked looking at him. How much she enjoyed being in his arms.
And he planned to torture her with it, very sweetly.
Those clever fingers stroked back and forth over her damp flesh, grazing her clit briefl
y before sliding down through her folds again. She moaned, unable to stand the torture. His fingers circled the opening of her sex, and he leaned in to nip at her neck.
“Are ye sore?”
“No,” she breathed. She wasn’t anything but desperately needy for him. “Please, Callum. I need you.” He continued to stroke her soft flesh over and over again. When she moaned his name, he rewarded her with another graze over her clit. She arched against him, whimpering.
“Beautiful, lass,” he murmured. “Do ye want that?”
“Yes.” She stared up at him with glazed eyes. “Touch me.” Callum’s thick fingers settled over her clit, and he gently rolled the small bud between them, stroking back and forth in a circular motion.
The feel of it was maddening to her. Her body was electric. It was on fire. Her hips rose and jerked with every caress, and she was making a high-pitched, keening noise in her throat, her legs spread wide so he could keep touching her– Hope shattered before she even realized she was in danger of coming. Waves of pleasure rocketed through her and she clung to him, moaning. “Oh, Callum.”
“I’m here,” he said in a low voice, and she felt him continue to rub her clit slowly, forcing the waves of pleasure to continue undulating through her even as he rose over her. She felt his cock press against the entrance of her sex, and then he sank deep inside.
She gasped at the fullness of him, her fingers digging into his skin.
He stilled over her, gaze moving over her face. “Do ye hurt?” She gave a small wiggle, testing.
Things felt a little tight, but in a good way. His cock was so large that she felt incredibly full of him.
“I’m fine.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Only fine?”
And then he rocked forward, just a little, pressing deeper. Sensation rocketed through her again and she sucked in a breath.
“Better than fine,” she amended, her eyes wide. “Pretty marvelous, actually.” Callum chuckled, the sound low and husky. “That’s more like it, lass.” He stroked deep inside her, and she sucked in a breath at the wealth of sensations that rocketed through her body. Instinctively, she raised her hips, wanting him deeper inside her. He was happy to oblige, thrusting deep again, and when she gasped, he began to set a rough, hard rhythm that had her clinging to his neck and crying out with every plunge of his cock deep inside her. His body pressed hers to the mattress, but every time he thrust, he jolted their twined bodies so hard that they surged forward until the blankets were wadded up behind her back and she was dizzy from the pleasure of it. He was taking her hard, and fierce, like she’d wanted.