by C. A. Szarek
Planting his fists at his sides was the only thing that kept him from grabbing her when he saw the twinkle in her eye.
She wasn’t half as worried about her virtue as Leargan was.
He swallowed hard, biting back a groan. She was going to kill him yet. “Aye.”
“Good.” Ansley winked, and swung herself into Caide’s saddle.
He stood staring at her fine, breech-clad long legs.
Numbly, like an idiot.
“Are we going?” she asked sweetly, one delicate red brow arched.
Shaking himself in his boots, Leargan managed a nod and scrambled onto Fia’s back. His mare whinnied; like she was asking if he was all right.
He ignored the amused look on his betrothed’s gorgeous face, muttering a prayer under his breath.
The last thing he needed her to know was how tightly wound she had him.
****
The fall day was bright and clear, the sun high in the sky. The air was unusually warm; an occasional breeze shifted the colorful leaves on the trees along the road.
Ansley should’ve been able to appreciate a beautiful afternoon in Greenwald, but nature couldn’t hold her attention.
She couldn’t stop staring at her betrothed. He wore no helm, his thick black locks loose and moving around his shoulders with the wind.
Leargan’s olive skin flushed pink—from their kiss, as much as exposure to the outside, and had her heart thundering with every step of Caide’s hooves.
It was a good thing her horse was experienced and able to guide his rider. Otherwise, she would’ve fallen off his back, because she wasn’t paying attention to the road or the ride.
Or her bondmate, who either jogged ahead or lagged behind their horses, sulking no matter her position.
“Enjoying the scenery?” Leargan asked.
“The company, for sure.” Ansley slapped her hand over her mouth. What had she said? Her cheeks burned.
His grin relaxed her shoulders, and her breath exited on a whoosh.
“I like being with you, too.”
“Good.” She swallowed, forcing her eyes on the road.
Idiot. You can let him kiss you until your toes curl, but you can’t talk to him?
Fine marriage you’ll have.
“We’re just about there. Over that hill.” Leargan pointed, and she followed his gaze.
“I noticed the lake on my ride in. Thank you for bringing me here. I’ll love the chance to get a better look.” Ansley clung to his distraction, forcing herself to calm.
“I love it here.” Leargan smiled. “I discovered this place not long after coming to Greenwald. The lake is vast, so open, yet so private, if that makes any sense. No one lives within sight. Breathtaking view.”
Good, they’d have privacy. But did they need it? Every time Ansley thought she was breaking down his block on making love before they got married, he’d pull away. He was driving her mad with desire.
Why didn’t she have a say? It was her body, after all. Or did he not want her as badly as he’d claimed?
Cera was right about one thing, Leargan had more than his fair share of control.
Ansley’s breath caught at the moment they crested the small hill he’d pointed out. The lake extended as far as the eye could see, the water moving gently with the breeze.
Surrounded by forest on one side, and open field on the other, the sight was serene. Not a soul around, but she heard ducks calling to each other.
Ali wuffed and rushed toward the water, several large birds taking flight as her bondmate disturbed their rest. She leapt after them, powerful jaw snapping air as she failed to make purchase. Undeterred, the large she-wolf jumped again and again, tail wagging.
Leargan chuckled, pulling Fia to a stop next to Caide. “Well, I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.”
“Finally.” Ansley grinned.
Her wolf sent playful thoughts and pictures.
At least you’re done sulking, she thought-sent.
Exercising the selective comprehension she was so good at, Ali ignored her.
“Let’s find a spot. Fia is probably eager to graze.”
Ansley dismounted beside Leargan, nodding. “Caide feels the same, I’m sure.”
Following his lead, she led her gelding toward a small copse of trees. Her betrothed unloaded their horses. Ansley spread out a thick brown sleeping fur, setting the picnic basket down on one end.
She removed her cloak and took a seat, reveling in the softness of the blanket. Ansley leaned back, spreading her palms out. She closed her eyes as the warm breeze caressed her face and shifted her long braid. Loose strands tickled her face. “What a lovely day.”
“What a lovely lass.”
Ansley met his dark eyes, her face warming at the intensity of his stare. “Thank…thank you.”
Kneeling, he took one of her hands and pressed his mouth to her knuckles. “You’re welcome, but I only state the truth.”
She smiled, shifting on the furs and averted her gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”
Leargan chuckled and released her. He opened the basket and reached inside. She glanced back at him as he took a seat next to her. Very close, their thighs almost touching.
Her body heated, limbs tingling.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Aye.” But she wasn’t hungry for food. She wanted Leargan.
After inching even closer, she took the red grapes he offered. She popped a few into her mouth.
He stared at her lips.
Desire settled low in her belly, and Ansley shook herself. How much longer could she endure this game they were playing?
The apple of his throat bobbed, but Leargan tore his gaze away. His side brushed hers as he leaned into the basket.
A tremor slid down her spine.
“Daicy did us well. We’ve two kinds of meat, buttered bread, more fruit, a full skin of wine, and even sweet rolls.”
“I’ll have to thank her,” Ansley forced out. Food was the last thing on her mind. What would he say if she declared she just wanted him for midday meal?
“Ham? Or venison?” Leargan asked. His dark eyes went wide as he turned back to her. He gulped. “Ansley…”
She dropped the grapes and snaked her arms around his neck.
Leargan met her halfway with a groan, crushing his lips into hers. The tartness of the fruit mingled with their kiss, and she scooted closer, shoving her tongue into his mouth.
His hands on her made her shiver, and she pushed him down into the softness of the blanket only to yelp as he flipped them and landed on top of her.
The thought of making love in an open meadow should have given her pause, but if she didn’t get naked beneath him soon, have his hot skin against hers, Ansley would just die.
Leargan dragged his tongue down her neck, and she tilted her head to give him more access, moaning at the heat of his wet kisses washing over her. When he pushed her tunic up, she cried out at the first touch of calloused hands on the soft skin of her belly.
Air on her bare skin made gooseflesh, but she wasn’t cold. Wiggling, Ansley lifted so he could pull her shirt up even more, her nipples peaking even before he enclosed his hot hands over her breastbands.
Her whole body was on fire as Leargan spread kisses across her belly. His hips rocked into hers. She could feel his erection through breeches and wanted nothing between them, skin unencumbered. Her sex throbbed.
Leargan pushed the fabric covering her breasts up and over, exposing her. She screamed his name, burying her hands in his long dark locks when he enclosed a nipple with his mouth. His tongue teased and tortured while his hands kneaded.
“You’re sweeter than I could have even imagined,” he murmured, the vibration of his words against her breast making her tremble.
“Blessed Spirit, don’t stop,” she breathed.
Leargan froze, then lifted his head. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded and black with desire. “Ansley, you’re killing me.”
“I want you.”
Growling, he pulled back, closing his eyes. “I want you, too.”
“Then take me, Leargan.”
“No. Not until we exchange vows.” He sat up, his jaw locked, full swollen lips a hard line. He gently tugged her breastbands back into place and lowered her tunic.
Frustration and desire warred with the hurt that rushed up from her belly, and her vision blurred. She clutched at her shirt and balled the fabric with tight fists.
Leargan groaned and emitted several curses.
She gasped. He’d never spoken like that around her.
“Please don’t look at me like that,” he begged. “It’s killing me. I’m not rejecting you. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to do things right for once in my life.”
For once in his life?
What does that mean?
He urged her into his arms, and she snuggled into the muscled wall of his chest, helpless to resist him, like always.
“Let’s get married today, then,” Ansley whispered.
Leargan’s face fell, hardened. “We can’t.”
“Why?” Eyes narrowed, her instincts flared. He was hiding something.
Leargan-her-betrothed receded, and suddenly, the captain of Cera’s guard sat holding her stiffly against him.
“I want you to have a proper wedding. Not a rushed ceremony so I can get you into bed, Ansley. That’s not me.” His words were sincere, but was there more to it? His expression was implacable.
Was there something to worry about?
The night of proposal rushed up, and Ansley’s worry about Leargan’s motives haunted, but she ignored them. “It’s not only you, Leargan. I want to be your wife.”
Mouth softening, he offered a small smile. “I want that, too. But it’s nothing we can’t wait for. Besides, with Avril’s situation—”
Guilt rushed her and Ansley looked down. “You’re right, of course.”
His warm hands cupped her cheek and tilted her face up. “I don’t want to be right.” Leargan pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “It’s only for right now. But I still want to spend the day with you. And I still want to hold you.”
Ansley smiled, nestling closer and sighing against him.
Minutes passed and a companionable silence settled over them.
Ali’s wuffs and water splashing were the only sounds other than an occasional duck call.
“Are you hungry for food now?” Leargan asked.
She nodded and pulled away to meet his eyes. “I suppose we should eat.”
He gently released her, scooting to the basket of food. “I’ll get meat, bread, cheese and wine out.”
“All right.” She put her hand down to the blanket and was greeted by something cool and wet squishing between her fingers. “Oh, no.”
Leargan’s dark eyes shot to hers. “What’s wrong?”
“We smashed the grapes!” Ansley held up a purple stained palm.
He threw his head back and laughed.
She couldn’t help but grin.
Chapter Thirteen
Evening approached and Ansley didn’t want to leave Leargan’s arms. But his obvious reluctance to wrap up their day warmed her heart.
They packed up the basket and rolled up the furs, continuing to chat as they had all afternoon. He’d made her laugh, talking about his childhood, growing up with many of the knights of the guard. Leargan saw them as his brothers.
He was charming and funny, and by the time she attached the blanket to Caide’s saddle, Ansley was even more in love with him than she’d been before.
“I don’t want to go back,” she murmured.
Leargan was at her side in seconds, pulling her into his arms and pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. “I would stay out here forever with you.”
She grinned, melting into his chest. Her stomach fluttered as she stared into his dark eyes. What did he feel for her? Of course he wanted her. But when he said things that took her breath, made her weak in the knees, and looked at her like that, was it foolish to think he could care for her?
Heart pounding, she tore her gaze away from him before she lost herself even more. “We probably should go,” she whispered.
He released her after another quick kiss. “We’ve been gone a while.”
“Probably missed evening meal,” Ansley said, swinging herself into Caide’s saddle.
Leargan flashed a grin. “That just means we’ll have to sneak into the kitchens.”
She laughed. “Morag thinks I’m sweet. I’m sure all I have to do is ask politely.”
“You are sweet.” His eyes darkened, and his stare gained intensity.
Ansley looked away as her cheeks burned. “We’d better get back. I don’t want Cera to worry.”
The ride back was quick and mostly silent, but it was companionable. Ali darted back and forth on the road in front of them, her spirits much higher than when they’d left late morning. Chasing ducks and playing in the water had been great fun for her bondmate.
Regret settled over her even before they gave their horses over at the stables. She didn’t want to be without Leargan for the rest of the night, but he wouldn’t come to her room.
“Are you hungry?” He settled his hand at the small of her back as they headed to the vast guest wing.
“No, actually, I’d like a bath and a warm fire.”
“Ah, you didn’t get too cold?” Concern clouded his dark gaze.
Ansley shook her head. “No, no.”
Ali sidled down the hallway and Ansley skimmed her hand through black fur as the wolf passed her.
“Ansley! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Aimil rounded the corner, throwing her hands up in the air, olive complexion flushed pink.
She shot a look at Leargan before meeting her friend’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Cera’s having the baby!” Aimil stopped in front of them, sucking in a breath. Her smile widened to a grin as she studied Ansley and Leargan, one delicate brow arched. “Hello, Sir Leargan.”
Her knight inclined his head, slipping his arm around Ansley’s shoulders and pulling her tight to his side.
Aimil had enjoyed her I-told-you-so’s when Ansley had told her two best friends about their betrothal.
Heat crept up her neck and Ansley cleared her throat. “Is Cera all right?”
“Aye.” Aimil nodded. “She sent Jorrin for Tristan some time ago, but now she’s asking for you and me.”
“Me?” Ansley swallowed. Could she stand being in the room when the baby came? She’d never been very good at blood and messiness. Besides, Morag probably wouldn’t like it, if Cera hadn’t kicked her out. It wasn’t decorum for an unmarried woman to witness a birth.
“Aye,” Aimil said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s go. Leargan, you can come too, I guess. Someone has to keep Jorrin in line. Cera threatened to throw him out of the room.” She shook her head, laughter in her voice. “Cera’s temper is very much present.”
****
When they made it to the door that led into Jorrin and Cera’s rooms, Jorrin was indeed in the corridor. High cheekbones were flushed with color, blue eyes wide. The lord was frantic. Pacing, shoving his hand through his dark hair.
Leargan took a breath. Maybe he could calm his friend after all.
“Jorrin? She actually put you out?” Lady Aimil’s dark eyes were wide, mouth a half-gape.
Lord Aldern froze, saying nothing as the apple of his throat bobbed. He shrugged, averting his gaze.
Isair and Ali greeted each other and lay down in the wide corridor, but no one paid them any attention. Trikser lay not far from the door, staring as if he could see through it.
How’d they managed to get Lady Cera’s bondmate to leave her side?
“C’mon, Ansley,” Lady Aimil said quietly, taking her hand and slipping into the room.
Leargan took a step forward and squeezed the duke’s forearm. “I can’t know what you’re going through, but I’m sure it’ll be al
l right, Jorrin.”
When had he finally conceded to calling the lord by his given name?
The duke had chided him for months about it. They were friends as much as lord to captain. It was comfortable, as relaxed as their relationship.
Morag of course, would say it was improper, but Leargan rarely paid her any attention anyway. She’d have to be content that he’d never address Jorrin without my lord, in front of their men.
The duke took a breath and met his eyes. “She’s in so much pain…I can’t stand it.”
“Tristan’s in there, right?” Leargan asked.
“Yes.”
“Then it’ll be fine. We all trust him with our lives; let’s not stop now.”
Jorrin gave him a grateful smile. “I just didn’t think…it’s hard watching her hurt.” He looked at his hands, palms wide. “I can’t do anything for her. All my magic, and I have nothing.” He winced.
As an empath, he would literally feel what his wife felt.
Leargan echoed the wince, grateful he didn’t have to suffer other people’s emotions like Jorrin always had to. Especially the woman he loved.
“That’s what Tristan’s for, my friend. His magic will ease her. Don’t feel bad that yours is different. As I understand it, pain is how babies come into the world. She’s young and strong, and nothing will happen to either of them.”
“Thank you, Leargan. I needed someone to talk some sense into me.”
“Lady Dagget said as much. But I didn’t think your wife would actually throw you out of the room.” Leargan chuckled.
Jorrin grinned and shrugged. “She simply suggested—through clenched teeth—that I get some fresh air.”
“Are you going back in?”
“Perhaps in a bit. Morag and Neomi are in there, along with Tristan and now Ansley and Aimil…it’s a bit crowded.”
“I’m surprised the duchess allowed Morag.”
“I think Neomi tried to send her away, but she wouldn’t go,” Jorrin said, referring to his wife’s lady’s maid. “Cera’s too busy to fuss her out.”
“Yet she had time to throw her husband out.” Leargan grinned.