Eden looked into his dispassionate gaze and took a deep breath. “Remove your hand. You have no need to restrain me. I won’t run away. I have given you my word on that account. You have yet to release me from my promise. I’m bound within these walls.”
“Answer,” Vladamir commanded with a growl. “You say that you aren’t repulsed, so tell me how you feel toward me.”
“I don’t know how to feel, m’lord. Yea, you do frighten me. That much I have admitted. Yea, I once thought you might be a monster, but bear it in mind that I was sick with fever from Lord Luther’s beating.” Eden stopped pulling at his hand. Her weaker strength had no effect on him anyway.
She saw what he believed in his eyes, but he was wrong. He didn’t repulse her. His hand about her throat was powerful and electrifying. It excited her as did the rest of him. She wanted to be touched by him. Her body was so hot, so wet, so alive with the fire of his nearness. Vladamir’s eyes bored strangely into her. The man confused her emotions and sent her blood to boiling.
She closed her eyes and prayed he would believe her. Her single word came out in a soft gush of air. “Nay.”
“What?” Vladamir’s grip tightened slightly, but not enough to do damage to her throat. He was a contradiction of gentle roughness.
“I said nay, m’lord. You don’t repulse me.” Eden opened her eyes and gazed into his intensely dark stare. She didn’t know how to act around him. Leaning into his possessive hand, her head fell back. “You confuse me. You confuse my emotions. I don’t know how to feel around you but you have never repulsed me. If you think that your scars take away from your beauty you’re wrong. They add to it. I don’t even see them when I look at you. All I see is your eyes. They haunt me, m’lord. Methinks you have bewitched me.”
Beauty?!
The duke tried to hide the tremendous pleasure her modest words caused, though he couldn’t help but wonder at her motivation. Vladamir knew that Eden didn’t care for him, had only married him to save herself from a worse fate.
For all Eden’s repulsion, he couldn’t help himself. She captivated him and having been without a woman for a long time, he desired her more than any other. Smiling to himself at the irony, he kept his face blank. It was the first time in many years that he hadn’t purposefully tried to intimidate someone—especially a woman—only now he wasn’t sure how not to frighten her.
He didn’t trust women in general and hadn’t wanted to be involved with them, until now. No matter how much he wanted to hold her at the moment, he couldn’t force her. He would never force a woman to his bed. He wasn’t that much of a monster, no matter how oft he tried to convince himself he was.
The duke had read well the words she refused to say when she spoke of her virginity. It’s why he gave her the vial. With her beauty, it was unlikely Luther let her go without sampling her wares first. The knowledge of it glowed from the hollowed depths of her round, terrified eyes. Despite his distaste for the female gender he never felt they deserved such cruelty. But after such a thing, how could he expect her to want him—even without the scars?
It bothered him at one time how people stared, but now he was used to it or at least he thought he was. Mayhap if he turned out the lights his appearance wouldn’t repulse her so. That is why he’d grown used to walking in the dark in the first place. But she’d said it herself, she only chose him because no other man would have her after she was ill-used.
What man besides me? Me, a monster with no hope of better.
At least he was better than being ravished by the lot of dirty soldiers he knew Lord Luther to call friends. Drawing from his thoughts, he studied her, trying to see the humor in her eyes. He found none. He tried to find mocking, yet she was devoid of that also. “You say I bewitch you, then why do you look away from me always? You don’t meet the eyes you claim to haunt you.”
“You told me not to stare, m’lord.” She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “You bid me look away. Methought ‘tis how you wished me to act.”
At that Vladamir’s lips curled into a half smile. He had said that earlier. How quickly he forgot his own words.
“Must you always be displeased with me?” Eden raised her hands once more and touched the vise-like grip around her throat. Instead of trying to pull it off, she ran her hand lightly into his sleeve. Her touch grazed over his forearm, skin that was unscathed. How he wished he was the man he’d once been—handsome, charming, carefree. If he was that man, he’d have something to offer her—something more than the scarred, bitter man he was now. How could she want him? Why would she?
Vladamir felt her pulse quicken under his palm. Her lips parted as she leaned her head back. Unwittingly, she invited his kiss with the downcast draw of her eyes.
Maybe she did want him. Maybe the gods had finally forgiven him for the past.
“I’m not always displeased.” He swayed into her, his chest tight.
“Will you kiss me again, m’lord?”
Vladamir couldn’t deny her. Gently, he pulled her forward with the hand that restrained her slender neck. He brought his lips down to her and lightly rubbed his mouth against them. Flicking his tongue over her bottom lip, he tested the truthfulness of her response and was rewarded with a slight moan. He still didn’t trust her, but he couldn’t resist her sweet entreaty either.
Her eyes closed and remained so for a moment. Vladamir kept the caress light. He drew his lips away to watch her face. When his mouth left her, her eyes fluttered open to gaze insecurely at him.
“Now, ‘tis you who must answer me. Do I repulse you, m’lord? Am I not to be looked at with kinder eyes?” A red flush crept hotly over her features. “Is that why you don’t kiss me as I have seen the soldiers kiss the maids? Or does one not kiss a lady like that?”
Vladamir smiled at the innocence of her question. He felt the artlessness within her. She’d yet to learn the female craft of deceit.
Mayhap I should lock you in a tower so you never will.
“Or perchance you’re repulsed by what was done to me,” she concluded through lush trembling lips.
Vladamir didn’t wish to discuss this, not really. He’d rather put her lips to better use. His body tightened, every muscle rigid with his control. If he didn’t find release soon, his cock was sure to explode inside his braes again.
“You don’t want what is not pure. That is why you gave me the vial. So you wouldn’t have to touch me.”
Eden tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let her go. Her voice soft, she said, “Please, I understand your reason for the vial. I’ll tell no one we didn’t finish this night. I cannot blame you for your repulsion. I’ll try not to be so revolting in the future and mayhap when you’re far into your cups you’ll be able to beget your heir. I hear that is when most babes are begot anyway.”
“Nay, methought only to save you embarrassment with the vial.” Vladamir kept his face passionless. “I care not about your maidenhead for you cannot help how that was taken. You’re a maiden in your own mind, ‘tis what matters.”
Eden nodded. “Then ‘tis because I’m not comely that you don’t kiss me.”
“M’lady searches for compliments,” he stated with distaste. Mayhap she had learned the woman’s craft after all. “Men have surely told you of your beauty.”
“Men?” she asked with a rueful smile. “Nay, my father wouldn’t let them near me. He flogged a man once for talking to me. The soldier merely asked for directions to some place called Paradise Passageway, ‘tis said to be near the Garden of Eden.”
“Ah,” Vladamir sighed as he tried not to laugh at the soldier’s wit and his wife’s innocent candor. He grudgingly appreciated Clifton’s heavy-handed ways in raising his daughter.
“Though I didn’t think that the Garden of Eden was truly an existing place.” With a delicate shrug, Eden smiled at up at him through the fan of her lashes. “Methought ‘twas an ancient village of some sort.”
“Nay, m’lady, you don’t repulse me,” Vladam
ir broke in, afraid of what he would do to his lady wife if she kept talking of such things at length. Already his mind kept conjuring images of her lips around his shaft as he squirted his seed down her throat.
“Eden.” She sighed as she once more tilted her head back. She licked her lips, inviting another kiss. “I like how my name sounds in your voice. Your accent is so unfamiliar, so unlike that which I know.”
“Eden,” he obliged before once more bringing his lips to hers. This time he traced the line of her mouth with his tongue. It had been a long time since he’d seduced a woman, but the natural instinct of his former ways rushed back full force. His hand remained seductively forceful around her throat and she gasped into his capturing mouth. Slowly he caressed her, expertly scraping his long nails over her quivering flesh.
Her hands climbed up his biceps to rest on his shoulders. Her breath came to her in long pants as he withdrew to lighten the kiss and tease her lips. She touched the side of his face, running her palm across his jawbone over the hard texture of his scar. Not fully returning his embrace, she just let it happen, leaning fully to him as if instinctually wanting to be closer.
She moaned, a virtuous sound. Vladamir deepened the kiss, moving his tongue deeper into her unresisting mouth. He delved it between her lips with the tender force of his passion for her. Every instinct urged him to throw her down and take his fill of her, but he held back, wanting her willing for his touch. His hand moved from her throat to the back of her head as he compelled her more fully to him. Eden made a small sound of surprise, but soon her hips were rubbing along him, her soft body rocking into his hard arousal.
Suddenly, Vladamir stopped. Her movement wantonly thrust her hips—too wantonly for an innocent maiden. He pulled away, a frown marring his brow as he looked to her. Desire warred with prudence. She was his wife and he didn’t have to stop. He could do as he willed with her, could conquer her repeatedly until he could come no more and no one would dare deny him it. The urge to toss her onto the bed and take her was strong.
“What?” The sound of her voice combined with her heightened breath begged for him to continue. Her fingers were wound in his hair at the nape of his neck and she let them fall to his shoulders. “Did I do aught wrong?”
Vladamir smiled so that the hard line of his lips pressed together in a cruel, disapproving scowl. He backed away from her and her hands dropped to her sides. He wouldn’t fall for her trap. He would discover her motive in coming to his home. “You’re good, m’lady. I bow to your true cunning.”
“Cunning?” She made a move to go to him but stopped when he snarled. “Of what do you speak, m’lord?”
“You know well of what I speak, maiden. You think to make a fool of me with your charms, your calculated innocence? I’m not a fool, though I do admit you almost took me in with your words.” He frowned as his foot came up against his shoes. He kicked them under the bed with savage intensity and sat down on the mattress. “No innocent maiden acts as you do. You’re not as virtuous as you would have me believe.”
“M’lord, you give my actions too much credence,” Eden protested. “If I acted wrongly, please just tell me what I did.”
“Nay, m’lady, I didn’t give you enough credit. You’re truly your father’s daughter. Did you plan this with him? Did he beat you afore putting you at my gate?” Vladamir grabbed the edge of his tunic and pulled it over his head. The shirt muffled his words. “Did you think to win yourself the title of Duchess? Did you wish to land a rich husband?”
“Nay. My father’s holdings are more profitable than yours are m’lord. I should daresay that you’re even poor by most noble standards. As to the title, I said that I don’t care about that and I certainly don’t care for your conceit.”
“So you say.” Vladamir could consent that she didn’t know how rich he truly was, for it wasn’t common knowledge in Wessex. “Tell me then. Who beat you?”
“I already told you, ‘twas Luther.” Eden tried to move toward him. His dark look kept her back.
“So you’ve said, maiden.” Vladamir frowned at her look. This woman was trained well.
Eden was mad that he could even accuse her of such a deceitful thing. Wringing her hands, she tried to remember what she could’ve possibly done to upset him. He invaded her thoughts, so that all she remembered was the feel of his embrace. She wanted to draw him back to her arms, to make him continue the foreign turmoil he alighted within her body.
He had pressed into her. His hair had been soft as it fell against her wrist. When he leaned over her in his passion, the long black waves cocooned her. The strength of him made her shiver with excitement as it molded to her length. She longed to rub against him as they had in the hall. Fires burned wet and hot in her sex, throbbing and needy.
She wanted him of that she was certain. But how to ask for it? Her body was tight with frustration, needing him to release her. She wanted to tear at her clothes, free herself from them. Better yet, she wanted him to do it for her. Let him act the monster, for it excited her when he tried to dominate her. She wanted him to throw her down and kiss her roughly. When he was with her, his lips to hers, she felt him holding the beast within him back. How could she tempt the beast to break free of the man and give in to his passion? How could she get the man to break free of the beast and find his heart?
For all his frightening appearance, the duke treated her with such tenderness. Aside from the poke of his knife into her side, he’d been gentle. She’d moved her hips to deftly settle next to the blade so that it wouldn’t poke at her tender stomach, only to be poked by something much larger. That’s when he stopped. Why did he stop?
Her attention was distracted from her thoughts as she watched him take off his overtunic. He threw it to the floor. The flesh of his back was strong and smooth, not at all marred by fire. A divot ran up his back, indenting his spine surrounded by thick, war-hardened muscles. His lean sides tapered into his braes, turning into slender masculine hips. Eden froze in anticipation sure he’d continue to disrobe.
Then he turned to her and the large bulge between his thighs briefly captured her notice. Her eyes traveled upward to his chest, her hand shook and she dropped the vial and flower. The flames had burnt him down his side causing the disfigurement to climb over his neck to cover his shoulder. It traveled down the length of his arm to his elbow and gnarled most of his right side. The dark skin of his chest became discolored as it grew into the variegated flesh of the old injury.
“Look your fill, maiden,” Vladamir spat, holding still for her observation.
“What happened to you?” She motioned her hand wanting to touch him, soothe him. “Who did this to you?”
The hard set of his features kept her back as fire burned in the depths of his angry eyes. “Have you not heard? My father, the devil, scarred me to remind me of hell. ‘Tis a warning to mortals that I’m a demon.”
“I don’t believe such things. They cannot be true.” Eden shook her head, hearing well the sarcastic ring in his tone. The old pain reflected from his eyes. “I care not what others say about you. I don’t believe you’re a demon sent from hell.”
“M’lady is quite right. She shouldn’t speak on matters she knows naught about.” Pointing to the bed, he ordered, “Into bed lest I perform yet another monstrous act in my lifetime.”
Her blood ran cold as he threw her words back at her. Her lips trembled and she felt like an idiot. Running to the bed at his jarring order, she quickly moved underneath the coverlet. The tight linen of the lavish gown pressed against her breasts, and she wanted to ask if he would allow her to disrobe from it and don a more comfortable nightgown but considering his temper she thought better of it.
“I’ll think of how to deal with your treachery later.” Vladamir didn’t bother to pull the privacy curtains that hung from the canopy as he lay down. He rolled toward her and narrowed his eyes. Taking the tip of his nail, he pressed it to the tender divot in her throat and held it against her like he would the point
of a knife blade. “You’d be well advised to tell me what it is your father plans. What do you have to gain by marrying me? For, fair maiden, I don’t believe you’re bewitched by my charms.”
Eden didn’t dare answer him. She got the feeling that if she said one word he would tear her asunder with his bare hands. Her eyes strayed to his chest, horrified by what he must have been through. However mortified she was by the look of his scars, she wanted to reach to him and touch him. He mesmerized her and she thought him beautiful except for his nasty temper. For even under the marred flesh she saw that he was well formed. She itched to press her fingers along his skin, wanting to feel him, to run her hands over his unique texture.
He rolled away from her and she felt rejected, alone. Her body throbbed, wet and needy for his touch. Sparks flamed her blood, causing her nipples to reach out against her bodice. Each breath was like a fiery caress, sending jolts of lightning down her stomach to her sex. Reaching out to touch his naked, muscled back, she let her hand hang in midair. She didn’t touch his flesh out of fear of his wrath. Instead, she lightly patted a piece of heathenish black hair as it sprawled along his pillow. Tears came to her eyes when he paid her no more mind and with a heavy heart, she rolled away from him.
Why do you insist on acting the monster, m’lord? I have done naught to deserve your anger.
Eden tore the ribbons from her hair and flung them to the floor, causing them to flutter in the air before resting on the hard stone. She closed her eyes to the moisture that built within them. Her heart ached for something she couldn’t name and her body trembled for his touch. She didn’t understand this man she’d married herself to. Stuffing her fist into her mouth, she bit down until her teeth imprinted into her flesh and there she stayed, choking on a sob so he wouldn’t know she cried.
Maiden and the Monster Page 15