He left the rest unsaid. She couldn’t help but smile. She pleased him.
“I don’t want you to move.” Where the hell would she move to?
Bryce moved to the foot of the small bed and looked down at her. His expression was one she’d never forget. His intent regard was so intense she thought he’d never look away.
When he finally moved, he surprised her by kneeling and pulling her ankles gently. “Come toward me.” What was he about?
“But you told me not to move.”
He didn’t answer. She had no idea what he planned but did as he instructed. Moving toward him, straw poking out of the mattress to scratch her back, Catrina slid down, bending her knees and—
No, he was not!
Bryce lowered his head and she instinctively tried to pull back. “I told you not to move. Trust me.”
Trust me. The man who wanted to destroy her family was asking for her trust. She was too curious to do anything other than comply.
At the first touch of his fingers, Catrina still didn’t understand. But when he used them to position her for his mouth, she was appalled. Did people really do this?
Then his tongue touched the most intimate part of her, and Catrina thought she might expire. Or at least it felt that way. Slow at first, he circled and teased, increasing the pressure. Her embarrassment fluttered away, leaving her with a wonderful, building feeling of pure bliss.
With increasing speed, Bryce licked and kissed her, his hands holding her in place. She grasped the coverlet as if holding onto something would keep her from being completely swept away. She began to move with him, a rhythmic back and forth that creaked the bed beneath them.
And before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the same explosion, this time somehow more intense, burst forth without warning. Her flesh throbbed against his mouth. She wanted to scream but had the sense not to. Her heart beat so fast she feared it would hurt her.
What…was that?
She opened her eyes to see Bryce, still kneeling at the foot of the bed, watching her. He was staring at her with such open admiration, she forgot to feel self-conscious. Catrina closed her eyes and lay back down.
She opened her eyes when she felt the mattress buckle under Bryce’s weight. The bed was hardly fit for two people. She looked frantically for her chemise and spotted it on the floor. Bryce reached out and ran his hand down her arm.
“Now you’re shy?”
She was grateful when he stood up and fetched the garment. Now, after everything they’d done, she felt exposed. She slipped it on awkwardly as she sat up on the bed. Bryce helped her with one of the arms. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to help her dress. But she couldn’t let herself think that way. She couldn’t get used to having him around.
“Why did you come to me, Catrina?”
His hair, wet when he’d walked through her door, was now dry but tousled, making him look younger than normal. And unkempt. And immensely adorable.
Adorable? Bryce?
“I needed to speak with you. And you’ve been avoiding me.”
His gaze traveled down the length of her body, making her tingle again in that most unlikely of places.
“And now you know why,” he said.
“But you hate me.” At least, she thought he did, but this was not their first encounter. Bryce swallowed and looked around the room. “I’m sorry for the accommodations.” So, he wasn’t going to deny it. She pulled her legs under her and wrapped her arms around them.
“You have to let me go.”
She could tell it was the last thing he had expected to hear. “Pardon me?”
“Bryce—” She had sought him out for a reason, and what had happened between them, however wonderful, didn’t change the fact that she needed to protect her brothers. “—I can convince Toren that Bristol is yours. To leave you alone. What’s done is done. It’s Bristol you want. Aye?”
He looked at her for so long, Catrina thought at first that he must not have heard her. “Please, consider it. Let me go to—”
“No.”
She startled. No?
“You need to listen to me. I—”
“I need to do no such thing.” Bryce continued to look at her but said nothing, the intimacy they had shared just moments ago already forgotten. This was the unflinching warrior. The one who cared about nothing. No one. Nothing except vengeance.
What could she possibly say to change his mind?
“This changes everything,” she said it quietly. It was obvious he desired her despite her surname. Wasn’t that a start?
“This changes nothing.” He stood and made his way toward the door.
He stopped before leaving and turned back to her.
Catrina could not discern his glance. The man who had just given her such pleasure stared back at her. He opened his mouth, his expression softening. Just as she thought he would return to her, Bryce turned and walked out of the room. The sound of the closing door rang in her ears.
How could he say such a thing? Do such a thing and then walk out as if they had discussed ordering provisions for a dinner party? What was wrong with him?
What was wrong with her?
She gave herself freely to a man who was not her husband. What would Graeme think of her actions? How could she have allowed that to happen?
Even worse, she wasn’t sure that it would never happen again. Though he was a brute, a stubborn, mule-headed Englishman, Bryce had showed her selflessness that night. She wasn’t so ignorant to understand he’d left without taking his own pleasure.
She’d once overheard a conversation between her brothers Alex and Reid that still made her blush. She was well aware how men sometimes pleased themselves. Of course, she had no idea it had felt like that. She would be sure to tease her brothers about it.
If she ever saw them again.
Somehow she had to convince Bryce to leave her family alone. To set her free. But it now seemed unlikely it would happen before they arrived at Kenshire. What did he intend to do when they arrived? Stay until her brother’s army moved south? Would he leave her at Kenshire? God forbid, that would be disastrous.
She needed help and had an idea where to find it.
15
As Kenshire Castle came into view, Bryce rode ahead to the gatehouse. They’d been riding all morning, though they’d stopped once for Catrina’s sake. It was nearly evening, but since the sun failed to make an appearance, it was difficult to tell the exact hour. The weather was as dreary as his mood.
Last eve had been yet another mistake. He was reminded of that as he dressed this morn and his sister’s ribbon fell from his pocket. How could he have even begun to think otherwise?
That was exactly the problem. He didn’t think around her.
Even now, part of him wanted to relive every moment they shared. Bryce had never witnessed a more delectable sight in his life than watching Catrina reach her peak. A midnight dunk in the river hardly did the job. Even now, thinking of it, he began to harden.
Damn the woman. Nay, it was his fault entirely.
There was no doubt that if he’d lain with her, it would have led to an all-out war with the entire clan and their allies. He played a dangerous game, and Bristol’s future hung in the balance. It was wrong, and Bryce knew it.
He should have stayed behind. He had convinced himself seeing Catrina safely installed at Kenshire was good for his people. Good for Bristol. He now realized his actions were rash. He could have easily sent her with trustworthy men who would have kept her safe. Instead, he’d allowed his feelings for her to blind him.
Anxious to see his brothers, Bryce spoke to the guards and left the remainder of his party behind with a quick glance back to look for Catrina. Kenshire Castle, an earldom once the seat of Northumbrian kings, was as impressive a structure as any in England. Built on a rocky plateau high above the coastline, the castle made for a spectacular sight from every angle. Inhaling deeply, allowing the salt air
to fill his lungs, Bryce waved to familiar faces as he rode through the outer bailey and finally the inner gate.
Bryce and his siblings had moved to Kenshire after Geoffrey and Lady Sara were married. It was here they planned the attack against Clan Kerr. It was here he’d learned Geoffrey planned to grant him the feudal barony of Bristol.
The courtyard was at least five times the size of Bristol’s. Servants scurried back and forth and wagons transported goods. Children chased each other, and the chickens played unwilling participants in their game. Livelier than Bristol, Kenshire befitted the lady whose family had ruled for generations. One who had fought to keep the earldom—and won—after her father’s death. Who had married his brother for love.
That very same lady approached as Bryce dismounted. He handed his horse’s reins to a squire.
Sara embraced him. “Bryce, good den! I’ve missed you.”
“Good den, my lady.”
She pulled back to scowl at him. “‘Tis Sara, never ‘my lady’ to you.” Grabbing his hands, she looked over his shoulder. “Where is she?”
She. Catrina. Where, indeed?
“She should be coming anytime with the rest of the men.”
Sara slapped him on the arm. “You brute. Why isn’t she with you?”
His brother appeared just as he was being scolded. “Geoffrey, can you control your wife? Her greeting has been quite improper.” Aside from his sister, Sara was the only woman with whom he felt completely relaxed.
With the exception of Catrina. Although she also unnerved him more than anyone else as well.
His brother laughed. “What would you have me do, Bryce? Shall I chastise the woman? Perhaps show her how to be more respectful?” Geoffrey grabbed his wife and pulled her toward him. Sara slapped his hands away playfully.
“You may try, husband. But see that you sleep in the hall with your men afterward.” Though she chastised him, Sara was smiling. Geoffrey kissed her in an open display of affection. This, this was the very reason Bryce had vowed never to marry. Though he loved Sara like a sister, there was no doubt Geoffrey was softer because of her.
“I could use a training partner, Geoffrey. Or have you taken up the loom these days instead?”
Geoffrey looked behind him. “What about our guests? Where is the Kerr woman?”
Bryce frowned. As if he needed a reminder she was sister to the devil himself. He waved a hand dismissively. “I rode ahead.”
His brother and Sara exchanged a glance. He didn’t care what they thought of him. Distancing himself from Catrina was for the best. For everyone.
“You must have ridden hard to make such good time. Do you want to rest? It’s late in the day,” Geoffrey reminded him.
“Nay.”
His brother, thankfully, stopped asking questions. He turned to Sara. “You’ll see to the girl?”
“Aye, husband.”
Then she turned to look at him. Clearly, Sara didn’t approve of his treatment of Catrina. She’s a goddamn captive!
Perhaps if he reminded himself often enough, he’d start believing it.
Bryce turned as Geoffrey followed him to the training yard. He tried to ignore the stares that were common enough when he and his brother were together.
“How is Bristol faring?”
Normally they would hear the sounds of clanging swords and men’s shouts. But at this hour, most prepared for the evening meal. The yard was likely empty.
“The manor is fully staffed, the wall repaired. We’ve routed out sympathizers to the Kerrs and re-established old trading partners. Thomas had some ideas on how to make the wool trade more lucrative, and I think I know ways to expand it. But building an outer defense remains my top priority.”
“And the men from Kenshire?”
Geoffrey stopped at the entrance and turned to face him. Bryce knew that look.
“What is it you really want to ask, Geoffrey?” His older brother was never good at hiding his moods. Something troubled him.
“You know I stand with you, Bryce—”
“But?”
“The war that brews with Clan Kerr. We both knew they would put up a fight. And I didn’t disagree with keeping the girl hostage at first. It seemed like the right move.”
Bryce could guess, easily enough, where his brother was headed.
“I won’t let her go.”
After a moment, Bryce broke Geoffrey’s stare and looked off into the distance. From this vantage point, only the curtain wall was visible in the distance. But beyond it lay the North Sea. He couldn’t see or hear it from this distance, but it was there. The salty, briny smell carried on the breeze.
Geoffrey was a lucky man to call this home. Bryce could understand why he was reluctant to engage in a fight he thought they had already won. But that didn’t mean he was content to let Toren Kerr’s crimes against his family go unanswered.
That didn’t mean he was ready to let Catrina go.
Bryce looked back into blue eyes nearly identical to his own. Right now, there was more than a spark of anger in them.
“Goddammit Bryce, why do you have to be so stubborn? Let it go. We have Bristol. By all accounts, they ran it well in our absence. We have the trade. Isn’t that enough?”
They walked into the empty training yard, Bryce already mentally preparing for the sparring match.
“No. It’s not. The chief of Clan Kerr will answer for the murder of our parents. And Catrina will help make that happen.”
Bryce could tell his brother wanted to continue the argument, but he was done talking. “You gave Bristol to me. Now let me rule it.”
And yet…when they squared off, Bryce’s thoughts didn’t drift to revenge or Bristol, but to a certain lady whose soft moans were forever etched into his memory. Thank God Kenshire was large enough that he could easily avoid her for a few days.
Apprehension nearly made Catrina ill as they rode through the massive gates of the castle. Bryce had told her at the inn that she would not be confined at Kenshire, but how much freedom would she be given? In his typical surly manner, he’d informed her that there was simply nowhere to go. Kenshire’s guards would not allow her to pass without an approved escort. Him. Which meant everyone knew she was a captive. Worse, Bryce was nowhere to be found. Perhaps, after last night, he would stay lost.
And that meant she had to ride into this new prison without her escort.
It was an impressive structure. The guardhouse alone was nearly as big as the main keep of Brockburg or Bristol. Her heart sank when she realized the hundreds of men milling about would likely be at Bryce’s disposal. Kenshire must have as many men as the king! If he fought her brother on the battlefield, even with deSowlis as an ally, her clan would lose.
Davie danced nervously beneath her as she dismounted. She knew how her horse felt. But Lady Sara greeted her, and she was the embodiment of grace. She was easily the most beautiful woman Catrina had ever met. Lady Sara’s long, dark hair was unbound even though she was a married woman, but that didn’t surprise Catrina. From what she knew about the countess, she was not a lady overly concerned with convention.
What did surprise her was that the countess engulfed her in the kind of embrace one would give a long-lost sister. Didn’t the countess know she was a hostage? The sister of her enemy?
Of course she did. And apparently Lady Sara wasn’t a bit shy with her words.
“I’d apologize for my brother-in-law’s shameful treatment of you, but you must know by now he is an absolute brute.” With that, Lady Sara took her hand and led Catrina into the keep as she called back orders to the men.
What could I possibly say to that?
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Mayhap a hot bath?”
Catrina nearly fainted from relief. “That would be most welcome, Lady—”
“Sara. Please call me Sara.”
“Sara. Thank you.”
The lady of the manor flashed her a brilliant smile and stopped, sweeping her arms out with pride. “I give
you the great hall of Kenshire Castle.”
Holy Saint Thomas, it was immense! Warm and welcoming, the hall reminded Catrina of Brockburg, though it was, of course, much grander. Many grand families kept their most decorative and opulent tapestries for the lord and lady’s solar. But like Brockburg, Kenshire’s great hall boasted thick walls covered with colorful, thickly woven wall hangings, each telling intricate tales. The tartans, of course, that also hung in Brockburg were missing. Although the scenes were a bit different, the effect was the same.
“So you like it?”
“Aye, it’s beautiful.” And she meant it. Lavender-scented rushes and clean trestle tables were being set for supper, servants bustled about contentedly, and candles glowed in every crevice.
“As are you, Lady Catrina.”
She wasn’t used to such compliments. Catrina felt her cheeks getting warm. “Thank you. And it’s Catrina, if you please.” The countess was so poised. And perfect really. It was no wonder Sir Geoffrey had fallen in love with her.
Evelyn had told her the romantic tale of Lady Sara and Sir Geoffrey. Apparently, Hugh Waryn, Geoffrey and Bryce’s uncle, had been a close friend of the now-deceased earl. The earl had sent for Hugh before his death, hoping that he could help protect Sara from an enterprising cousin who wished to rob her of her inheritance. Geoffrey had accompanied Hugh to Kenshire, and the rest was history. Only Lady Sara had been engaged at the time, to a man who was supposed to help her protect her title. Evelyn hadn’t known the full story there, and Catrina would love to hear the rest.
“Thank you. And a bath would be most appreciated.”
Sara showed her to a bedchamber and ordered a bath. Catrina could only compare the feeling of the hot water after so many days traveling to…
She closed her eyes and attempted to think of something else.
Anything else.
But her mind refused to obey. As it had so many times that day, her thoughts returned to
the previous evening. She should be embarrassed, ashamed. But Catrina was neither. Father Simon would have her in church for a week—a month—begging forgiveness. But what was there to forgive? Could something that had felt so perfect, so achingly wonderful, truly be a sin? Just thinking about Bryce’s lips on hers…the things he’d done to her with his mouth…
The Lord's Captive (Border Series Book 2) Page 15