She shook her head at the nonsensical thought. How could there be prisoners when there was no lock on the door. And why would Rhys keep women as slaves to satisfy his lust when he was bringing a wife home? Unless...could he be that insatiable when it came to coupling? Did he require more than one woman to satisfy him?
She would find out tonight or would she find out when she opened this door?
The torch in the sconce flickered, sending shadows dancing across the wood door as if they dared her to enter the den of iniquity. She raised her hand slowly, telling herself this was necessary, she had to do it. She had to discover what lay beyond the door.
Ever so slowly, she brought her hand down on the metal latch.
A large shadow suddenly loomed over her, spreading around her, consuming her, swallowing her whole while a strong hand fell across hers, gripping it tightly.
Chapter Seven
“Never, ever, enter this room.”
Heather’s gasp caught in her throat and her legs turned weak. She did not know whether to be relieved that her husband was behind her or frightened that it was him.
He took firm hold of her hand resting on the latch and spun her around to face him. Her body fell against his and he held her there against him. He wore no armor over his black shirt so her breasts were planted firmly against his hard chest and she felt every taut muscle.
“What are you doing up here?”
“Exploring,” she said, though did not sound convincing to her own ears.
“In your nightdress on your wedding night?”
“I got restless.” This time the truth rang true in her voice. She was restless to know what was going on, not only in the forbidden room but about the surprise attack.
The torch sconce suddenly flickered low and then, as if a strong breath blew at it, it snuffed out completely, leaving her and Rhys engulfed in total darkness.
Heather reacted instinctively, her arms went around her husband and she held on tight.
The scent of lavender from her freshly washed hair drifted up and wrapped around him as strongly as her arms wrapped around his waist. “There is nothing to fear when I am with you,” he said, feeling her body tremble against him.
His words soothed and so did the strength of him coiled protectively around her, but what of the darkness. Heather voiced her fear. “The darkness does not let us see.”
“Fear stops you from seeing, not the darkness.” He lifted her just enough so that her feet did not touch the floor and began walking.
Heather was amazed that he walked as if he could clearly see every step he took. She kept her arms firm around him, not that it was necessary she held on to him, the strength of his one arm alone was enough to hold her with ease.
She was relieved to see a flicker of light ahead as Rhys confidently proceeded down the stairs. And she did not mind that he did not place her on her feet until they were in their bedchamber.
Hundreds of questions wanted to spill from her lips, but she chose silence, waiting to see what he would say to her.
“Do not venture from this room.”
Heather stood staring at the door as it closed shut behind him. Why had he returned if only to leave again? The question got her thinking. How had he known she was on the upper floor or had he? Had he come to the upper floor to retrieve something or in search of her? And why was she never to go into that room?
With questions continuing to grow, Heather began to pace. He had left her just as he had in his solar, which could only mean that he had not returned for her. What had brought him back to the keep and what had brought him to the upper floor?
She raised her hand to cover a yawn and realized that the long, eventful day was fast taking its toll on her. Finding out she was wed to the Dark Dragon, being taken away from her home and family, getting attacked by warriors with similar skills to the ghost warriors, tending the fallen and injured warriors, learning that many of the McComb clan had disappeared without a trace, and then being ordered never to enter a particular room made her wonder if she could possibly be caught in a nightmare. Perhaps if she went to sleep, she would wake at home with her loving family around her.
Though, what if it was not a dream? Her husband would certainly expect her to be waiting for him. Another yawn had her approaching the bed. She could rest, not sleep, though if sleep claimed her then perhaps she would wake and find herself home.
Home is wherever I am.
A shiver ran through her recalling her husband’s words, and she quickly got in bed and pulled the soft blanket up over her. The bed was much larger than her one at home, but then this bed was meant for more than one person. She had shared her bed with her two sisters when they were young and needed her close, but that had been years ago. She was accustomed to sleeping alone now and wondered if she would easily adapt to sharing a bed with her husband or if it would become a chore.
She sighed and turned on her side, wanting to grab the other pillow and hug it to her as she did when she slept alone, but the pillow was not hers to hug. It belonged to her husband. Another yawn eased out of her and she snuggled in the softness of the bedding, her eyes closing and sleep settling in on her.
~~~
Rhys entered his bedchamber much later than he had planned to. The day had not gone as expected and the attack troubled him more than he would let anyone know. He had kept the secret well, only he and one other knew of it. But then he had known the risk he was taking at the time and not once had he doubted that the risk was worth it. Now it had returned to haunt him, but he had known it would. It had been only a matter of time and had he not wanted this, looked forward to it, and planned on it?
The problem was that now his wife’s life was in more danger than anyone could ever imagine.
Rhys went to the hearth to add more wood to the fire, a chill having settled in the room, no doubt from the rainstorm that continued to pound the keep. Once done, he stripped off his garments as he approached the bed.
Standing completely naked, he stared down at his wife tucked snug and warm beneath the covers and hugging his pillow. He gently brushed a strand of blond hair off her cheek. He had wondered if she would wait up for him, but was not surprised to see that she had not. It had been a long, tiring day for her, not to mention an upsetting one.
He wanted desperately to make love to her, had since he laid eyes on her, but after the day’s events and seeing her sleeping so peacefully, he could not bring himself to wake her. Tomorrow would be soon enough and all the days to follow.
Rhys walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. He slipped into her embrace as he eased the pillow from her hands. She settled around him quite nicely, her head going to rest on his chest and her leg draping over his. He wished she was naked so that he could feel her soft skin against his, but then thought better of it. If she was naked, he would not be able to keep his hands off her.
He closed his eyes, not expecting to fall asleep, his thoughts much too busy. She stirred in his arms, wrapping herself more tightly around him, as if she could not get close enough to him, and his arms tightened around her.
The last thing he recalled as he fell asleep was the scent of lavender drifting around him.
~~~
Heather woke with a slow stretch and a wide yawn that turned to a smile. She had not slept so soundly or comfortably in years. Her eyes sprang open and she sprang up, recalling where she was, and found herself alone in bed and alone in the room. She cast a glance at the rumpled spot beside her and knew her husband had slept there.
She lifted the top of her nightdress to take a sniff and her breath caught when the scent of him stung her nostrils. Her cheeks burned red. She had to have slept nearly on top of him to have his scent so strong upon her. She sniffed again, finding the scent appealing. It was a mixture of earth, pine, and man. It was similar to Quinn’s scent and she was troubled by the thought that she found Rhys’ scent more intoxicating.
A light knock sounded at the door and Heather was
glad for the interruption and just as pleased to find it was Nessa and she had a tray of food with her.
“I thought you might prefer to have your meal in some privacy after last night,” Nessa said, placing the tray on the table next to the chair by the hearth. “Tongues have been busy all morning, especially since you have yet to be seen.”
It took a minute for Heather to understand what Nessa was referring to and when she realized it, her cheeks tinged pink. Oddly enough, she felt embarrassed that her vows had yet to be consummated. Could Rhys have possibly found her unappealing? Surely if anyone knew, she would be blamed and not the Dragon, since rumors had him having an unquenchable appetite for coupling.
“I am fine,” Heather said with a forced smile.
“I am glad to see it,” Nessa said and lowered her voice to a whisper. “One of the servants claims to have seen the Dragon go to the upper floor and not come down for a while before going to his bedchamber. She thinks he had his slaves satisfy him, so that he would not be too demanding of his bride.”
He had returned to the upper floor last night after leaving her in their bedchamber? She had to find out what was in that room. Heather hopped out of bed and went to the tray of food. She rarely ate when she woke, but Nessa had been kind enough to bring her some food so she ate sparingly of the salted whiting and bread. There was a pitcher of wine, but she much preferred the soothing brew she made from herbs and would have to instruct Nessa on how to prepare it for her.
She turned to Nessa to do just that and found her staring at the bed linen.
Heather realized right away what the young woman was staring at. Heather’s virgin blood should be on the bed linen and it was not. If word spread about this, it would not be in her favor. She doubted anyone would believe that the Dragon had not consummated their vows.
“I beg your silence on this, Nessa.”
Nessa turned wide eyes on her.
“The time will come when you will find what you expected to find there this morning. Until then, I beg you not to speak of it to anyone.”
Nessa stared at her a moment before shaking her head and saying, “I would never speak of anything I see here. You can trust me to keep a tight lip, my lady.”
“I am relieved to know that, Nessa.”
“I will make certain blood is seen on the sheets,” Nessa said, gathering them up, “for inevitably there will be those nosey ones looking for it and ready to gossip if not found.”
“I do appreciate your loyalty.”
“Always, my lady,” Nessa assured her with a bob of her head. “I know you like to tend yourself, but if there is anything you wish me to do, I would be pleased to serve you.”
“Thank you, Nessa.” Heather dropped the piece of bread in her hand back on the tray. Curious about the two sentinels that had been found dead, but not sure if Rhys allowed the news to be known, Heather asked cautiously, “By the way, has there been any word about the two sentinels that were found last night.”
Nessa was quick to share what she knew. “A shame it is that one rushed to help defend the other against a wild beast only to have them both lose their lives. A troop has gone out to hunt the animal down. I hear tell it was a wolf.” Nessa shook her head. “The bodies were so badly torn that the Dragon will not let anyone see them. A guard stands watch over them outside the barn until they are buried.”
“That is a shame,” Heather said, though wondered over it. Why would Rhys be summoned immediately if two of his men were mauled by a wolf? Naturally, he would be informed of it, but to disturb him when he was with his bride? Somehow that did not make sense.
She had to get a look at those bodies and satisfy her curiosity and she had to find out what was behind that door on the upper floor. She also wanted to look in on the warriors she had tended and see how they were doing. With so much to do, she hurried to dress.
Her usual daily attire was a plain skirt and blouse and she quickly retrieved them from the chest Nessa had placed her belongings in. She took a comb to her hair, running it through the soft strands, then quickly braided it. After slipping on her boots, she went to the door, swinging it open and ran right into her husband. Stunned by the impact of his solid body, she stumbled back and his hand snapped out to quickly take hold of her.
“Are you rushing from our bedchambers to avoid me?” he asked, taking her along with him as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
“I am eager to see how the injured warriors are faring.”
“But not eager to see me?”
Heather stepped away from him, his hand falling off her as she went. “I could easily make an excuse that would satisfy you, but as I have said, it is important to me that we be truthful with each other. I had not thought of seeking you out—”
“You are that adverse to my presence?”
Did she imagine a hint of concern in his voice or again was it simply wishful thinking? She smiled as she said, “Surprisingly, I am not as adverse to your company as I thought I would be, though there are times I still fear you.”
“And well you should?”
“Why?” Heather shook her head. “Why would you want your wife to fear you?”
“So that she will obey me without question.”
“You must give me time to adapt,” she said softly.
He stepped toward her. “You do not command here, I do.”
She stared at his handsome face, though it was his lips her eyes settled on and oddly, she got the overwhelming urge to kiss him. So much so that she stepped forward, went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Her innocent, sweet kiss felt more like passionate hunger to Rhys and his body reacted—he grew aroused. His arms went around her and drew her closer as her lips continued to tempt his. He took over then, his tongue playing across her lips, urging them apart and slipping in so that their tongues could mate.
Passion caught and spiraled through Heather and when Rhys placed his hand on her backside and urged her against him, she found herself complying most willingly. She settled against him, his hardness poking at her, letting her know how much he wanted her. And she could not quite grasp why, but she wanted him.
Heather was shocked and disappointed when he brought their kiss to an end and stepped away from her.
“I have things that require my attention,” he said and turned toward the door.
“Why?”
Rhys turned back around and asked with a brusque tone. “Why what?”
“Why did you not wake me last night when you came to bed?”
He walked over to her and grabbed hold of her chin. “When I want... I will bed you.”
Heather wondered how many times she would watch the door close behind him and be left feeling perplexed. He had wanted her. She had felt his need. So why did he not seal their vows? He was becoming ever more curious to her, making her want to know more about him. And she would start her search on the upper floor.
With light footfalls, she made her way to the upper floor, stopping every now and then to listen and hear if anyone else was about. When she reached the top floor, she peered around to make sure no one was there.
Darkness greeted her, the lone torch sconce that had gone out last night still not lit. She went and retrieved the torch from one of the sconces along the stairway and made her way back to the unlit torch, intimidated by the shadows that danced around her. It was as if they were eager to reach out and capture her.
She thought to light the torch in the sconce, but then thought better of it. No one was permitted up here and if she lit the torch, Rhys would know someone had been here and, not wanting a servant punished for her misdeed, she left the torch unlit.
When she was a few feet from the door, she stopped abruptly, shocked to see that the door had been bolted with a heavy metal lock. Disappointment filled her. Now she would never find out what secrets the room harbored nor would she? There had to be a way to find out.
She turned to leave, more determined than ever to f
ind a way into the room, and stopped when she thought she heard a noise. She listened and sure enough she heard it again and it came from the locked room.
With her stomach tightening in knots, she took a step closer to the door and listened. She jumped back when she thought she heard someone cry out and when the latch on the door began to rattle, her heart almost stopped beating.
Was someone trying to get out?
Now she had no choice. She had to find out what was in the room and if necessary set whoever was inside free.
Chapter Eight
Rhys sat, with heavy thoughts, in his solar. He knew all too well how kind his wife was, having proven it yesterday with how unselfishly she had helped those in need. He had not, however, realized the extent of her determination or curiosity. She let nothing stop her when either took flight and she had proven that not only with her questions but with the way she had kissed him.
The passion that had flared in her green eyes had surprised him as had her kiss. She had not been shy at all. It was almost as if she kissed someone familiar to her, and he wondered if he reminded her of the man she once loved.
Her father had made it quite clear to him that she loved another and always would and nothing would change that, but it had not mattered to him. He wanted Heather, ached for her gentle smile, her selflessness, her tender touch. If anyone could cope with the darkness that consumed him at every turn, she could.
Though, one question continued to plague him—was it fair to Heather? Would she truly be able to survive his darkness or would he pull her down into its dark depths?
A knock sounded at the door and it opened before he bid anyone to enter.
“I saw Heather talking with some of the villager folk, so I knew you would be alone,” Pitt said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
“Get us a drink and sit. There are things that need to be discussed,” Rhys said.
Pitt filled two goblets with wine and handed one to Rhys before sitting in the chair across from him. “There has been no success with the hunt. If a wolf or some beast of the forest is not brought back, concern will grow.”
Highlander The Dark Dragon Page 6