by Diana Bold
She rose and returned her empty bowl to the table near the fireplace. His many kindnesses proved he was a good man, but that didn’t change the fact that he was her enemy. “I fear my only value lies in keeping my secrets. Once I’ve told you all, and you’ve reported back to your brother, I’ll become a liability.”
“I will not let any harm come to you.” His voice came from mere inches behind her. “Not even if it means claiming you as my own.”
She whirled, stunned to discover he’d crossed the room and stood staring down at her with breathtaking sincerity.
“Claim me as your own?” She shook her head, backing away, horrified by the idea. No matter how sinfully attractive she found him, she would not allow him to claim her like some sort of trophy. She did not comprehend the entire concept of marriage, though it seemed to be fueled by politics and greed. Her own people mated only for pleasure or genetics. “No man has the right to claim me.”
“Only as a last resort,” he hastened to reassure her, looking anything but happy at the prospect. “Believe me, I have no wish to wed, but as the lord’s brother, I can offer you the protection of both my sword and my tower.”
“Wed?” His offer, while chivalrous, terrified her, because just for a moment — one dark, dangerous moment — she’d imagined all that being his wife would entail. “I cannot wed a Surface barbarian!”
“Surface barbarian?” His eyes flashed with indignation, and she realized their conversation had diminished to a ridiculous farce, each of them dumbly parroting the other’s words. “Is that what I am to you? And what do you mean by Surface?”
She clamped her lips shut, refusing to say another word. She’d done more than enough damage for one day. Not only had she failed to escape, but she was well on her way to ensuring he’d never let her go.
With a furious huff, he gestured toward the bed. “Time for you and the scarf to become reacquainted.” For the first time, he addressed her coldly, seeming to have lost all patience. “I tire of your company and dare not leave you to your own devices.”
Heart sinking, she obeyed his command, uncertain how far she’d pushed him. To her relief, he secured her bond with his usual gentleness.
“I will not be far,” he relented, as he reached the doorway. “Just down in my workroom. Call out if you have need.”
As he disappeared down the stairs, she blinked away a sudden rush of tears. Infuriating man. Despite everything, his presence was the only thing holding her together. She feared if he left her alone for long, terror would consume her.
* * *
As night fell, Trevelan braced himself against the biting cold, staring up at the great stone fortress where Rhoswen had been taken. He’d arrived at the castle late yesterday evening, after the gates had already closed, and was forced to take what rest he could in the forest.
He’d spent the day examining the defenses, but had yet to come up with a feasible rescue plan. Too many warriors guarded the gates, and even if he managed to breach the interior, too many possibilities lay within. He could wander those halls and towers for days without finding her.
Guilt consumed him.
He never should have let her swim to shore by herself. But he’d been so furious after their disagreement he’d needed a few moments alone. He’d counted on her support for his cause, had never dreamed she’d side with the heathens who populated the Surface.
By the time he’d anchored their vessel, she’d already been surrounded. There had been little he could do but trail behind and hope for the opportunity to free her. He’d followed her toward the interior of the country for days, but she’d remained too well guarded.
He had no weapons, nothing on his side except the power of his mind, but even that formidable advantage was little comfort when pitted against an entire castle of armed men.
Nothing like this had ever happened before. In all the many years his people had spied upon the Surface, not one of them had ever been taken prisoner. He tried to find comfort in the thought that these heathens would never believe Rhoswen’s story, even if they managed to get her to talk.
But if, by some miracle, they did believe her, and somehow managed to find the submersible craft and coerce her into navigating it to Halcyon… Who knew what sort of havoc these lawless barbarians could unleash upon the placid beauty of his home?
The wisest course was to return to his vessel, go back to Halcyon, admit his failure, and ask the council for guidance. But his concern for Rhoswen kept him rooted in place, desperate to think of another way.
Her very life was in jeopardy. Even if the council authorized some sort of formal rescue mission — which was doubtful — she might not survive long enough for them to implement it. The mere thought of what she could be suffering at this very moment made him mad with fury.
Though she’d banished him from her bed years ago, they’d remained steadfast friends, and he’d always expected her to change her mind. He’d thought if he just gave her a little time she would remember how good they’d been together. In fact, he’d expected their shared desire to take back the Surface to be the spark that rekindled their relationship.
Now he feared he’d never see her again. And he couldn’t live with that.
With a soft groan of frustration, he focused his attention on his surroundings, resting his gaze upon the immense beast tethered less than a dozen yards away. All day, he’d watched the men of the castle come and go on the backs of their mighty warhorses, covering distances far faster than he could ever manage on foot. He’d never ridden one of the animals before, but it looked relatively simple. How hard could it be, given that these savages did it on a daily basis?
He hated to leave Rhoswen behind, but he must face the fact that he could not rescue her by himself. If he returned to The Dolphin on horseback, it would cut the amount of time needed to summon help in half.
Decision made, he checked again to be certain the horse’s owner remained out of sight in a nearby hut. No doubt the man would give chase once he realized the animal was missing, but by then Trevelan planned to be long gone.
Stealing along the tree line, he remained hidden until mere feet separated him from the horse. He gave his surroundings one more searching glance, then left the shelter of the trees and headed toward the animal, completely focused on his goal.
He grabbed the reins, put his foot in the stirrup, and vaulted into the saddle, just the way he’d seen it done. Satisfaction swept through him, but it was short lived. The massive animal heaved, tossing him into the air as though he weighed nothing. Scrambling for purchase, he tightened his grip on the reins and squeezed his thighs, trying to hold on, but the horse continued to buck.
Cursing viciously, he made a desperate attempt to hook his feet in the stirrups, but the saddle twisted, and he slid sideways.
Angry shouts filled the air as he lost his grip, landing upon the ground with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. Bright pinpoints of light danced before his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath.
Running footsteps approached from the direction of the hut. Panicked, he pushed up on his knees, but before he could regain his feet, a well-placed kick connected with his midsection, driving him back down to the ground.
“Sodding horse thief.” The man followed the kick with a wicked blow to Trevelan’s temple. “I will see you hanged from the highest tree, bastard knave.”
White light exploded in his mind. He did his best to push back the darkness that followed, but realized he’d seriously underestimated his enemies.
What help could he be to Rhoswen when he appeared doomed to share her fate?
Chapter Five
Sebastian remained in his workroom for several hours. He tried to lose himself in his work, but guilt and anger raged within him. Her comment about a prison being a prison, no matter how comfortable…
Jesu Christ.
He knew all too well the truth of that. It killed him to think he had become the very thing he had despised during his own captiv
ity.
No matter how extravagant, his gilded cage had still been hell. Despite all Sa’id’s kindnesses, all the promises he had made and all the wisdom he had shared, he had kept Sebastian against his will. He had taken things Sebastian had never wanted to give…
As the hated memories crashed down around him, he dropped the aqua ardens he had been distilling for weeks. He cursed when the glass vial shattered upon the oak floor, ruining all his work and proving how much the girl upstairs had disrupted his once well-ordered life.
Anger overtook the guilt, but he did not know whether to focus the emotion on his brother, himself, or his enchanting prisoner.
He was most angry with himself, he decided, picking up the shards of glass with a trembling hand. Deep down, he feared an ulterior motive for every kindness he had shown her. The fierce desire to win a kiss, or even more, had clamored within him since he had first taken her out of the dungeon.
If he acted upon those desires, it would make him no better than Sa’id. And he would rather throw himself off the ramparts and crash upon the rocks below than destroy that lovely girl in the irreparable way he himself had been damaged.
Tossing the glass into the trash barrel, he headed back up the stairs. Renewed guilt assailed him when he entered his bedchamber and found her bound arms twisted in an awkward angle as she attempted to sleep on her side.
What a brute he was, to have left her this way.
If only there was a way to make it up to her…
He gazed down at her pale face, noticing again how battered and bruised the journey from the coast to the castle had left her.
She met his gaze, and he saw that all her earlier fire had evaporated. She looked weary in both heart and soul. Despite his tisane, she must ache all over, and her strange garment had chafed her pale skin in dozens of places. A hot soak would lift her spirits immensely, and ‘twas the one gift he could give her.
Leaning forward, he unbound her hands, then slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. “Put your arms around my neck, my lady. I have a pleasant surprise for you.”
He pushed to his feet, holding her tight against him. A chill still clung to her skin and dried saltwater had made her odd clothing stiff and scratchy.
“Where are you taking me?” Sudden nervousness roughened her voice as he moved away from the bed and made for the door.
“Be calm. I will not harm you.” Grabbing her light stick from his desk, he handed it to her so she could light their way. Once he had descended to the ground level of the tower, he strode to the back wall of his workroom.
He set her down and slid aside the cabinet, revealing the hidden doorway set into the wall. The staircase to the cavern yawned before them, dark and slightly ominous. Picking her up again, he began the treacherous descent.
She clung to him like a limpet; his every midnight fantasy come to life. For so long he had denied himself even the hollow pleasure of self-gratification, trying to make his body oblivious to the need clamoring inside him. But now, with this beautiful stranger in his arms, he knew he had mastered nothing.
“There is a hot spring beneath the tower,” he explained, hoping to take his mind off the soft press of her breast against his chest. “The heat might ease some of your pain. These stairs are the only way down, and I have seen your feet. You could not possibly walk down here yourself.”
She relaxed a bit and twined one slim arm around his neck, anchoring herself more firmly against him. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
“You are welcome, milady.” Her gratitude made him uneasy. In fact, everything about her made him uncomfortable. The intelligence in her lovely blue eyes surprised him, as did the direct way she met his gaze.
Fey, his brother had said, and Sebastian had to agree.
He rushed down the stairs in record time, depositing her at the edge of the steaming pool of water with unseemly haste.
In the distant past, someone had turned this small cave into an oasis of decadence. Tiled sitting ledges had been carved into the stone pool, and beautiful mosaics were set into the walls and floors, depicting blasphemous astrological scenes. Sebastian loved everything about it.
“Soak as long as you want. I will go back upstairs and give you some privacy.”
She stretched one dainty foot toward the water, sighing in pleasure when she encountered the soothing heat. “It feels wonderful. I’ve been cold for so long I wondered if I’d ever be warm again.”
“I will fetch your clothes and something for you to dry yourself with.” Turning away from the sight of her, he headed back toward the stairs. The mere thought of her sliding naked into the pool nearly unmanned him.
If he had to spend the next few minutes with nothing to contemplate but his lovely guest’s bath, he feared he would do something foolhardy. “I will return in half an hour or so.”
Rhoswen’s heart thundered in her chest as Sebastian walked away, leaving her in the very place she’d been trying so hard to get to.
Old Halcyon’s hot springs.
As soon as he disappeared up the stairs, she spun in a swift circle, looking for the tunnel that would lead her to Old Halcyon and eventual freedom.
Half an hour.
Was that enough time? How far would she get before he caught up with her? Was it worth the risk?
Disappointment swept through her as no obvious sign of a tunnel revealed itself. If only the old maps had been more detailed… Her thoughts trailed off as she realized Sebastian never would have left her down here alone if he knew there was a way out.
He’d conquered the secrets of the magic door, and he’d discovered the entrance to the hot springs, so why hadn’t he found the tunnels? Was it because he hadn’t known to look for them, or was it because they didn’t exist? Had time or some ancient battle destroyed them?
Desperately aware that her time ticked by with relentless speed, she shuffled to the nearest wall, running her fingertips along the intricate tile mosaic worked into the stone. Was there a hidden door? She didn’t know where to look.
After several frantic minutes, she stumbled back, forced to admit the search would take far longer than she had.
Somehow, she had to find a way to get back down here, perhaps while Sebastian slept. He had to sleep sometime. She needed the opportunity to find the tunnel and get a good head start.
Once again, the wisest course was patience, no matter how much it rankled.
She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes, wiping away a hint of frustrated tears and trying to gain control of her rioting emotions. One thing was clear — it would be foolish not to take advantage of this chance to soothe her many aches and pains. Warmth and comfort were only a few steps away.
She hastily unzipped her wetsuit, wincing as she peeled the stiff fabric from her chafed, torn skin. Giving the stairs another quick glance to make sure Sebastian hadn’t returned, she sank to the side of the pool and gingerly lowered herself into the steaming depths.
The hot water stung her many cuts and abrasions, bringing fresh tears to her eyes, but she forced herself to ignore the pain. Once fully submerged, her discomfort lessened, and the heat seeped into her aching muscles.
With a weary sigh, she leaned back against the warm stone. For the first time since she’d stepped upon the beach, the panic skittering inside her abated.
She was safe as she could possibly be, given the circumstances, here in Sebastian’s tower. And he’d given her a chance to soak in this wonderful pool, an unexpected luxury in the mean squalor of her surroundings.
Confounding man.
She dunked her head beneath the steaming water, holding her breath until her lungs threatened to burst. When she crested the surface, she slicked the wet hair from her face and settled back against a ledge that appeared to have been carved for long, leisurely soaks.
Of all the hundreds of reasons why she needed to escape, her attraction to her captor certainly ranked toward the very top. His solemn pledge to put both his sword arm and his t
ower to her defense had stirred her far more than she cared to admit. She should be horrified by such barbarism, but how could any woman be immune to such a brave, selfless vow?
“My lady?” Sebastian’s voice echoed off the damp stone. “May I come down?”
She sank to her chin in the water, counting on the darkness to protect her modesty. In this, at least, she trusted him. If he’d wanted to molest her, he would have already done so.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice scratchy and dry.
He entered the cavern, and an adorable rush of color stained his cheeks as he carefully kept his eyes averted and placed a small pile of her clothing on a stone by the water’s edge.
“I brought these, also,” he informed her, holding out her toiletries. “They smell as though they are used for bathing.”
“Thank you.” Their fingers brushed, and he jerked his hand back as though she’d burned him. “If you’ll just turn your back for a few moments, I’ll finish up.”
Turning away, he strode to the far side of the cave without comment. As much as she had enjoyed the bath, exhaustion pulled at her like a heavy weight. She’d slept for a few hours this morning, but a full night’s rest might go a long way toward putting her on the mend.
As she washed and rinsed her hair, she gazed across the cavern at Sebastian. He'd braced his legs wide, as though he stood on the deck of a rocking ship. His shoulders were squared for battle, and she sensed he fought some internal war to keep from peeking at her. His strength of will touched and humbled her.
The men of her acquaintance were narcissistic and self-assured. They expected their women to be strong and capable, and Rhoswen missed the equality between the sexes she’d always taken for granted.
Still, she had to admit it felt nice — especially in her battered, weary state — to be pampered a bit. To be watched over and protected.