Tales of Enchantment
Page 18
“We’re here.”
They had turned right a few paces back onto a trail that led into a secluded grove. A stand of tall trees formed a shady bower, and the air turned cool and refreshing.
Giselda looked around with delight. “It’s so beautiful! How come I didn’t know of this?”
“You have to ask the right people, my dear.” Michael put down the basket he was holding and spread the blanket on the grass-carpeted ground. “Come, sit here for awhile. The climb couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Giselda felt fine, but she saw that Michael was panting slightly. She didn’t want to embarrass him, so she sat down on the blanket. The basket must have been heavier than it looked.
“As I was saying, Randalin wouldn’t suffer anyone’s touch but mine.” She turned to smile at Michael, who had settled beside her. “When my father heard this, he had no choice but to give the mare to me, when he originally wanted to give her to my cousin for a birthday present. I can still remember that day. I was so happy --”
Giselda tumbled onto her back, a heavy weight keeping her pinned to the ground. “Ooomph!”
“Your mouth has other uses than talking, my love.” Giselda found herself staring into Michael’s dark, desire-laden eyes. Her breath shortened. “Like this.”
His lips roved over hers in slow motion, nipping and sipping at her lips. “We have all the time in the world,” he whispered as he angled his head in the other direction. “No one to interrupt us again ...”
“But I want to tell you about --”
“We’ll talk later.”
His lips trailed down her chin, her neck, and burrowed into the hollow of her throat. Giselda closed her eyes as she felt his hand at the bodice of her dress, untying the ribbon. Without any warning, his lips fastened on her nipple, sucking strongly.
Giselda gasped and arched against his mouth. His lips were demanding, pulling strongly. His fingers pinched her other nipple, tweaking and pulling the tight bud into prominence. White-hot fire streaked from the tips of her breasts and burned in her veins.
“Do you like that, love?”
She wished he would stop talking and just continue what he was doing. That way, she wouldn’t remember that all he wanted was --
He nudged her legs apart and settled himself fully between them. He made little thrusting motions, rubbing his cock against the juncture of her thighs through their clothes.
Giselda went rigid. She could not think, could not say anything. Her whole attention was focused on his hard member demanding entry into her most secret place.
Suddenly, his weight was gone. She gave a cry -- of relief and surprise. He must have changed his mind and decided that she needed more time --
“You think to take advantage of the princess!”
Giselda’s eyes snapped open at that roar of fury, and she saw Rodin lifting a befuddled Michael off his feet.
Michael shook his head and saw his attacker for the first time. “You again!” His eyes glinted with outrage, but it was no match for that which flared from Rodin’s eyes.
“Don’t touch her again until the wedding ceremony is over!” Rodin shook him hard before tossing him, like a sack of potatoes, toward the trees at the far end of the grove.
Giselda shook from the expression on his face. His voice was both grim and gentle as he said, “Cover yourself. I’ll take you home.”
She scrambled to sit up and tried to tie the ribbon of her bodice with fingers that weren’t steady. She couldn’t summon enough energy to lambaste him for his interference. Because he had saved her. But also because she dared not. An angry Rodin wasn’t something she’d seen often during her growing-up years. He was the easygoing one, while Frederick was the moody one. But in the past four months, it seemed there wasn’t a day when he wasn’t scowling at her. And then there was yesterday ...
He knelt in front of her. “I’ll do it.” He nudged aside her clumsy fingers, brushing his own fingers over her taut peaks in the process.
Her breath caught as a curl of heat arced between them, a heat that seared her with its flame. She must really have some sensitive breasts. First Michael, and now ... But at some deep level of instinct that was inherent in all women, she knew it was not the same.
Their eyes met, and his eyes smoldered, not with rage, but with another kind of fire. Then he bent his head and tied the ribbon with deft efficiency.
She was so confused that she let Rodin hustle her out of the grove without looking back at Michael.
How could one innocent, accidental brush of Rodin’s hand ignite the same response from her that Michael’s seduction had?
Chapter Four
Fresh air filled her lungs as they left the grove, and Giselda began to feel better and more like herself. She rounded on Rodin when they were but a few steps down the hill. “How dare you interrupt us! And how come you’re always on hand to interrupt us?” A thought struck her. “Bloody hell, you’ve been following us!”
“Tsk, tsk. Is that the way for a princess to talk?”
“Don’t evade the question. You have been following us, right?”
“There you have it.”
“You have no right to do that!” Giselda stamped her foot, but it lacked power and noise on the thick grass. “My betrothed and I can make love if we want to, when we want to, and where we want to!”
“He’s not your betrothed yet.”
“Says who?” The memory of Rodin and the maid added fuel to her burning rage. “If you can have sex in front of me, then I bloody well can do it whenever and wherever I want!”
He stopped walking and stepped closer to her. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Giselda was shaken and disarmed by the cold glitter in his eyes and his hard voice. Her rage fell away and left only confusion. “What is it to you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly couldn’t look straight into his eyes.
With his thumb and forefinger, he caught hold of her chin and gently turned her to face him. His gaze was somber. “Why would seeing me have sex bother you? Unless perhaps ...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “... you want the woman in my arms to be ... you.”
She sputtered. “Don’t be ridiculous!” But her protest was weak.
She wrenched out of his grasp and walked a few steps away. She took several deep breaths, feeling unbalanced and displaced. Suddenly, she saw herself with her back against the tree and Rodin’s mouth on her breast and his hand underneath her skirt. She felt hot. Feverish.
She whirled around. “Look, Rodin, why don’t we just forget about all this?”
“Can you?”
She went on, ignoring his question. “I can’t understand you these days. You’ve been different ever since we came back from the lodge; you’re almost always angry now. Are you mad at me? Why? Was it something I did? Can’t we go back to the way we were before? Be friends?”
They weren’t exactly friends, because Giselda had always been too aware of her position to be friendly with the hired help, even if that person was her stepbrother’s best friend. But Rodin had always been kind to her, tolerating her presence when Frederick would not and allowing her to tag after them on fishing trips even when she chattered too much and scared the fish away.
Looking back, she now felt a smidgeon of shame at her snobbish behavior. A few months of being around Serena was making her see a lot of things from a different perspective.
But now, she didn’t understand what was happening between her and Rodin. A tantalizing thought teased at the edge of her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t want to examine it, afraid of what it would reveal. No, her destiny lay with Michael. She was on her way to be queen of Ermont.
Her resolve firming, she repeated, “Can’t we be friends again?”
She thought she glimpsed a stark bleakness in his eyes, but then she blinked, and it was as if it had never been there. Instead, she saw resigned acceptance.
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br /> “I’m not mad at you, princess. I’m mad at myself. And I wish I could, but I don’t think ‘just friendship’ is possible. Not anymore. Not for me, that is.”
He brushed past her before she could press him further.
Giselda stared at his back in frustration. When he was a few feet away, she turned around and made a mad dash back to the grove, aware that he fully expected her to follow him down the hill. She was barely halfway there before she was tackled to the ground by an object far heavier and more solid than Michael.
The breath was knocked out of her. Her face hit the ground, and her teeth felt like they had all been jarred loose. She spit out a few blades of grass that had found their way into her mouth. “Get off me, you big oaf!” The shout didn’t come out quite like she’d imagined it would.
He moved and helped her to sit up on the grass. He sighed. “All right, I give up. We can be friends or whatever it is you like.”
“Really?”
The delight that surged through her was reflected in her voice. It was no wonder, then, that Rodin laughed before saying, “Really. If this friendship is going to get off the ground, then I should first apologize for ...” He hesitated. He looked at her sideways and then continued, “For the incident the other day with Rosie.” At her blank look, he explained, “The maid by the tree.” Sudden comprehension dawned. “I never meant for you to see us. Also ...” He hesitated again. “I apologize for the things I said to you. I shouldn’t even think them.”
Even if they were true? For a moment, Giselda was horrified that the words might have left her mouth. When she realized that Rodin was still looking at her expectantly, she was so relieved that she stuttered. “Of course -- Yes -- No -- I mean --” She took a deep breath. “Yes, I accept your apology. I also have my own to make. I should not have said those words to you, either. And what you do with the maids is -- is --” The words seemed to be stuck in her throat. “Is your own business.”
He smiled, though she noticed it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad we agree on that. But one last thing, princess. If you please, don’t make this job harder than it’s supposed to be.”
“Job?”
“Frederick asked me to look after you, be your bodyguard.” His teeth flashed. “So I’m doing just that -- guarding your body.”
Giselda gasped. “So you mean, that day, when I saw you hiding behind the trees ...” Hot color burned in her cheeks as she remembered just exactly what he’d been doing.
“Not really,” he drawled. “If you remember, I was busy myself.”
“So --” She cleared her throat. “But I’m sure Frederick didn’t mean Michael.”
He shook his head. “He was specifically mentioned.”
“But why? He’s soon to be my betrothed, and --”
“As I’ve said, soon is not is. Come, let’s get going.” He helped her to her feet. “I think Frederick wants to make sure no scandal will be attached to your name now that you are about to be married.”
“I didn’t see him exercising such restraint with Serena before,” she muttered, kicking her feet against the grass and bemoaning the unfairness of it all.
“I don’t trust him, either.”
Giselda was so startled, she stopped and stared at him. “You don’t trust Frederick?”
Rodin laughed. “Keep walking. I meant that I don’t trust your prince. He looks a bit oily to me.”
Giselda’s breath caught at the sound of his laughter. It vibrated through her body, tingling her in places she never knew existed. How could it happen now, when she was never affected before? She saw Rodin look at her expectantly and scrambled to think of a suitable reply.
“Good thing you’re not marrying him, then,” she managed to say with a snap to her voice. “My mother is certainly pleased with the match.”
Rodin grunted, but didn’t say anything. He plodded on ahead.
“I suppose I should be glad that Frederick cared enough,” she reflected, compelled to say something into the silence. It wasn’t that the atmosphere was uncomfortable, but that she had always been unable to stand silence.
“He has always cared for you as a sister,” Rodin said in a gentle voice. “But you haven’t made it easy for him.”
Remembering all the troubles she’d caused in the past and the laughingstock she’d made of herself by going after her stepbrother, Giselda hung her head in shame. “I have been beastly to him, haven’t I?”
“Makes for good character-building,” Rodin said cheerfully. “His, anyway. But that’s all in the past now. At any rate, we always knew you were no angel.”
She sent him a grin of her own. “Think how boring your life would have been if not for me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, please spare me the excitement on this last job. If you would just keep to your room day and night until the wedding, I would be grateful.”
Giselda noted the forced nonchalance in his tone, but it was forgotten as her attention was caught by one thing he had said. “You’re leaving?”
“Why? Can’t wait to see the back of me?” His mouth thinned. “Not until your wedding ceremony is over, I assure you.”
Giselda couldn’t make out the turbulent emotions within her. “I, uh, I guess I, uh, I just always thought that you would be with Frederick all your life.”
“Things change. Even you will be leaving a few weeks after your wedding ceremony,” he pointed out. “But what I meant was that this is my last job as a security personnel for the royal family. I’ll be doing something else after this.”
“Like what?”
He glanced her way. “Really interested to know?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Just thought you couldn’t be bothered with servants.”
She stopped and stared at him.
He tugged her arm to get her to continue walking.
“But you -- I -- you’re Frederick’s friend.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound repentant, though. “The wires must have crossed.”
“So, what are you going to be doing?”
“I’m going to breed horses.”
Giselda clapped her hands. “Oh, how exciting!”
Rodin shot her an amused glance. “You’ve always loved horses.”
“Maybe I can visit you someday. Where are you going to breed them?”
“Frederick is going to convert that thousand-acre tract he received from his mother into a horse ranch.”
“Big place.”
“Yes. I plan to get it up and working first, and then maybe ... I’ll settle down. Hopefully in five years’ time.”
“You have someone in mind?” This was a day for surprises. She had never heard rumors of Rodin getting serious with a girl. And for some reason, the idea of Rodin married bothered her.
“Yes.”
“What does she think?”
“She doesn’t know yet.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never found the courage to ask her. I was afraid she’d laugh and turn me down.”
Giselda felt a flash of anger at the unknown girl. “Why would she do that?”
“Our backgrounds are too different, and I wouldn’t be able to give her all the things she’s accustomed to.”
“But these are all your suppositions. How would you know for sure if you haven’t asked her? Tell you what. Who is she? Maybe I can ask her for you.” The words had popped out without going through her brain.
“She ...” He hesitated and then sighed. “Never mind, Princess. It’s nice of you to offer, though.”
“I’ll be subtle, I promise.”
He laughed, a hearty laugh that was consistent with his big frame. “Forgive me for saying this, Princess, but you have all the subtleness of a rampaging bull.”
“You are so poetic,” she said sarcastically, but a smile hovered about her lips. “Do I know her?” As she saw his hesitation, she waved a hand negligently in the air. “All right, never mind. Can you describe her, at least?”
“Wow, I don’t think I know anyone like her.” Hearing him talk about this girl made her feel small and insignificant and inadequate. “But your problem now is that she doesn’t know she wants you.”
Rodin threw back his head and laughed. “That’s about it.”
“I don’t see how you can be so cheerful about this.”
“Can anything be done by being gloomy? No, right? So why not be cheerful? At least I’m happy.”
She considered for a moment and then nodded. “Good philosophy. I shall try that.” She placed a hand on Rodin’s arm and gave him a small squeeze. “Don’t worry, Rodin. After I’m married, I’ll help you look for suitable prospects in Ermont.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” He stopped and presented her with a mocking little bow. “But we should hurry because you don’t want to be out in this heat for too long, and we still have some ways to go before we reach the nearest village.”
Giselda tried to keep up with his fast strides, aware of the milling emotions in her breast. One thought kept reverberating through her head.
He had turned stiff and formal, and she didn’t know why.
Chapter Five
“I am sending Prince Michael on a quest.”
The king of Mithirien made the announcement at the impromptu family meeting he had called two days after the end of the tournament.
Giselda, being uninformed as to the reason for the meeting, was startled at the pronouncement. “But, Father, why?”
“Frederick and I have discussed this, and we decided that one more test of valor is needed to ascertain young Michael’s suitability.” His stern eyes softened as they rested on his adoptive daughter. “I know you’re looking forward to the wedding, but this is for your own good. I don’t want you to have regrets the rest of your life.”