Read Unicorn Bait Online

Authors: S.A. Hunter

Tags: #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Unicorns, #Magic, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Witches

Unicorn Bait (8 page)

BOOK: Unicorn Bait
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“And that’s good. Right? Don't need to worry about anything now. Unless...Do you guys practice polygamy?”

He chuckled and fed her another bite of food. “I would have to know what that was to practice it.”

“Can you have more than one wife at a time?”

“No, not exactly. A lord can take more than one war bride, but he is only actually married to the last one he took. He can discard any he took before that.” She didn't like the sound of that. She gulped nervously as she considered the implications for herself and all the connotations that ‘discard’ brought to mind. And he would leave again eventually to pillage another castle and possibly take a new wife.

“Oh, here, I should have offered before.”

She didn’t know what he meant by that as her mind tried to scramble for an idea. She jerked back when unexpectedly a cup was placed to her lips. She felt the wine spill down her front. Tavik cursed softly.

She dropped her head. “Sorry,” she said.

“No, it's my fault. You really don’t trust me at all.” She wondered how he could expect her to trust him. She felt a cloth press her chin. The wine hit spilled onto her chest. She hoped it didn't stain the gown. It was a pale yellow, and she knew it wouldn’t come out of the cloth if it seeped in. She felt Tavik trail the napkin under her chin and over her neck. She probably looked a mess. The napkin moved lower. The gown had a generous scoop. She hadn’t thought anything of it when she’d put it on that morning. She’d worn much more revealing things on her nights out, but she had never had a guy pawing her while she was blindfolded. She scolded herself for instantly jumping to conclusions. He had just told her he was a monk! Sure, he was a mass murderer, but he wasn’t a lecherous one. Naomi’s mind almost imploded at the convoluted thought.

He was still brushing the napkin slowly over her chest. She thought he was doing a very thorough job. She froze when she felt the back of his fingers instead of the napkin touch her skin.

“Tavik?”

His hand disappeared. She took a deep breath in relief. Tavik made a strangled sound. She realized her dress may have pulled somewhat tightly against her chest. What was her monk doing looking at her chest?

“Tavik?”

“Would you like some more wine?” His voice sounded strained. She simply nodded and held still this time for the cup to meet her lips. He gently tilted the cup for her, and she sipped slowly. She nudged the cup with her mouth to indicate when she was done.

“I will not discard you."

“Sorry?”

“I will not discard you,” he repeated. “You are right. You’re an even better disguise than my mask to hide what I am.”

“Glad I can be of service,” she weakly joked. Oh God, she was his beard.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “I know that it has been a hard couple of days, but I want you to know that I appreciate how well you have dealt with everything. An ordinary woman would have pulled her hair out by now and cried herself blind if she had had to go through what you have.”

She felt uncomfortable with the praise. She wondered what he would say if he knew she had been keeping herself from going crazy with thoughts of how to ditch him and get back to her home, but then again, she had a meeting with a talking mouse. Was she still sane? “I’m really not that special. Yula has gone through everything I have and more and has stayed strong.”

Tavik sighed, and his hand rubbed her shoulder. “Yes, Yula is strong too, but…” he trailed off with another sigh.

“But what?” Tavik’s softened voice was putting her on pins and needles.

“I’m not married to Yula.”

Her mouth formed a silent 'O'. Wait, their marriage was a sham. What did he care if she were strong and resilient? They were only together because—Her train of thought was lost when Tavik’s lips covered hers. His kisses began as chaste presses of the lips, and with each press, his mouth opened a fraction more. Naomi’s brain was in a tailspin. He was kissing her, and she liked it. Being kissed well was always nice. But they weren’t supposed to be kissing! What about his whole monk thing? What about the deal? She was tied up and blindfolded. She shouldn’t be okay with this just on principle. Bondage wasn’t her kink, damnit!

His tongue inched out and traced the seam of her lips. She liked it. Screw it, she’d had a series of really crappy days, and this was the first day that had been going nicely. Kissing would be added to the list of nice things done today. She opened her mouth and returned the kiss. His hand moved up to the back of her neck to cradle her head.

His mouth tasted like the sweet wine they’d been drinking. He wasn’t trying to choke her with the kiss or split her lip. No force involved, and he gave equal time. He pulled back and let her explore his mouth. If she weren’t tied up and blindfolded, this would go on her top five list of good make-outs. Soon, his lips crept from her mouth to her neck laying soft kisses down her throat. She sighed in pleasure. She realized as he moved down her throat to the top of her chest that his head was completely bald. She filed that little tidbit of information away. He put his other hand on her breast and gently stroked it. She moaned in appreciation. She couldn't help pulling against the restraints wanting to participate in the touching. His hand gently stroked her nipple, and it puckered.

“Tavik,” she pleaded. He switched his mouth back to hers. She continued to tug at her restraints. He slipped his hand down her dress to cup her breast. She arched her back and wiggled the restraints. They were beginning to come loose. His other hand left the back of her neck to trail down to pull up the long skirt of her dress. She was working the cloth loose on her wrists. She would have them free soon she knew.

He left her lips again and returned to her breast. His hand pulled down her dress, and his mouth latched onto her nipple. She cried out in pleasure and victory. She'd worked her hands free. As he suckled, she raised her hands to the sides of his head to press him closer. When she touched him, he jerked away and grabbed her hands. She let out a protesting sound and tried to pull her wrists free.

“Naomi, you shouldn't have done that,” he said. His voice was a little breathless.

“Done what?” She tried to tug her hands free or at least tug him back to her. She wanted to go back to the kissing and fondling. He switched his grip on her wrists to one hand. She heard what sounded like the helm being put back on. He released her and stepped away.

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Yes.”

She pulled it off and tossed it onto the table. “I didn’t try to take a peek,” she said a touch grumpily.

“You would have.” He’d moved back to wall and leaned against it with his arms crossed. She rolled her eyes and looked at the table. She picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth. She was still hungry, but food wasn't going to satisfy her.

“Naomi, put your dress back to rights.”

She looked down at herself and found her legs bare with the skirt all bunched up in her lap and one of her breasts spilling out of her top. She sent him a dark look. “I’m not the one who got the dress this way.”

“Put your dress back to rights.” His voice sounded strained. She jerked the top up, and the cloth grazed her nipple harshly. The pain only made her sudden bad temper worse. She threw the dress back over her legs, and crossed her arms too.     

“I have matters to attend to. Be ready tonight,” he said.

She sat there staring at the door after he left. The impact of what had just happened began to creep up on her. She had made out with him. She had almost gotten to third base and may have rounded home if he hadn’t gotten skittish. What was she thinking?

“Well, that wasn’t much of a rut. You two barely got anywhere,” said a high squeaky voice from behind her.

She swiveled around on her chair and found the mouse standing in the middle of the floor.

“Is there any cheese and wine left?”

She turned back to the table. Three pieces of cheese remained. She picked up the wine canister and found it half full. She poured some of the wine into a saucer and set it down along with the cheese on a plate. The mouse scurried forward and began to gorge himself.

“What’s your name anyway?” she asked.

The mouse looked up from the saucer. His whiskers dripped with wine. “Mr. Squibbles.”

“Squibbles?”

“Mister Squibbles.”

She smirked but didn’t comment on the insistence of the honorific. “So tell me about unicorns, Mr. Squibbles.”

“Unicorns are very rare. They have been nearly hunted to extinction by humans.”

“For their horns,” she said.

“Yes, a lot of magic exists in their horns: the power to purify water, not just a bucket but a whole river with one touch; heal mortal wounds; ward off harmful magic; counteract curses and poisons; call lighting.”

“Where can I find unicorns?”

Mr. Squibbles had finished the cheese and sucked up almost all but a few drops of wine from the saucer. “Sorry, you’ve gotten all you're going to get at this time.”

“What? Wait a minute,” she protested, but the mouse turned and began to waddle back toward the bed.

“Get more wine and cheese,” he said and disappeared underneath the bed.

 

 

Chapter 7

For fun, unicorns chase frogs.

 

 

Naomi fidgeted in the chair as Yula arranged her hair. She’d pulled it up and fastened it with small bejeweled combs and hair pins. Naomi knew the hairdo was going to give her a headache after a couple of hours, but Yula was so determined to make her look like a fairytale princess that she kept her reservations to herself. She had the feeling that Yula was using her to prove something to Mrs. Boon.

She had on a long shimmering gown that was light on her back. The top material was gauzy and iridescent while the lining was smooth and soft. Thank goodness the dress was light because the jewelry was not. A heavy bejeweled earring strained each earlobe. A long necklace with a ruby the size of a baby’s fist hung from her throat. Gold bracelets dangled on both her wrists, and several glittering rings were on her fingers. She’d just barely convinced Yula to nix the tiara.

Earlier in the evening she'd gotten a crash course on etiquette for the feast. When she'd asked for the lesson, Yula had stared at her. She reminded her that she wasn’t Lady Naomi.  Yula had arranged a place setting on the table and instructed her on the proper utensils to use for each course. She’d also given her tips on how to interact with the guests. They would be affluent farmers, merchants, and soldiers. Naomi had asked if there would be dancing. There would be dancing, but Tavik didn’t dance and thus she would not be expected to. She’d experienced no small amount of relief at this tidbit of information. As the guests of honor, they would watch the dancing for a while and be the first allowed to leave the festivities. She dimly hoped that Tavik would want to leave as early as possible. The sun had just begun to set when there was a loud knock at the door. Yula had finally finished dressing her hair, and they had been sitting silently for several minutes. Naomi rose, but Yula hopped to the door and opened it. Tavik stood on the other side in a long red cape, shining boots, black gleaming pants, and a black tunic with gold geometric embroidery upon it. They had been dressed to match.

They stared silently at each other for a moment taking each other in. Tavik finally bowed low to her. “Is my lady ready to meet our guests?” he asked.

In response, she curtseyed and took his arm. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she muttered. She didn’t know what to expect when she entered the hall. What greeted her made her hold her breath in surprise. The hall had been transformed. Torches lit the large room from all sides with candles sparkling on the long tables. Flower boughs and wreaths hung everywhere with rich cloth draped on walls, windows, and tables.

While she gaped, the guests in the room had turned to look at them. She became aware of their stares and quickly tried to school her features to a more haughty expression. She could do this, she chanted to herself as goose bumps and a cold sweat broke out over her. She hadn’t seen a silent cue, but after a moment, the hall broke out into applause, and Tavik raised his hand in acknowledgment of the welcome and nodded at a few of the people closest to them. She nervously smiled. They walked further into the room.

People began stepping forward to greet them. They bowed and murmured how happy they were to see Tavik well and said welcome to his new bride. Tavik greeted the men by name and thanked them for the warm welcome. Naomi nodded politely and smiled shyly. She tried not to make the iron grip she had on Tavik’s arm too obvious, but short of a crowbar, he was not going to be leaving her alone with these people anytime that night. She spotted a group of women standing to the side. None of them smiled at her, and she had the feeling that anything they said in relation to her was not flattering. She wasn’t going to be making any friends that evening.

She had been minding her P’s and Q's vigilantly throughout the dinner. She was sitting beside a grandfatherly sort who she happily let monopolize the conversation by telling her all about his grandchildren.

Tavik tended to listen to others and nod and say little to anyone as well. It appeared everyone was having a good time. People were laughing and chatting merrily down the table. She envied their ease. She hoped she wasn’t sweating through her gown. When the feast was over, she glanced at Tavik. He had his chin resting on his hand. Musicians came into the room carrying their instruments. People began to rise and pair up for the dancing. She wondered how long they would stay to watch. She was ready to go back to her room. The musicians made noises like they were ready to begin, and the dancers took their places. She watched the dancing with mild interest. It was not fast or complicated, but knowing the steps beforehand was definitely required if one didn’t want to run into someone else or step on another’s toes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tavik wave one of the servants over. He said something low into the manservant’s ear and sent him off. She watched the man go to the musicians and whisper into one of their ears. She looked at Tavik with confused curiosity. Had he made a song request? He turned and saw her looking at him. He put his hand over hers that rested on the table. She gave him a nervous smile and wondered what was next. The current dance was coming to an end.

He rose from his seat, drawing her with him. She rose stiffly. With sickening dread, she realized they were going to the dance floor. She tried to balk, but he merely put his arm around her and drew her closer.

“Yula said you don’t dance,” she hissed.

“Normally, I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t know how.”

“What do they teach young ladies in your land?”

“Nothing you’d appreciate.”

“I will teach you how to dance,” he said. She barely registered his comment before he swung her around and showed her where to place her hands. The music started, and it was different from the first piece. She realized it was like a waltz, and the dancing positions were similar to a waltz as well. His arm went around her while his other raised her hand aloft. Her other hand rested on his shoulder. He began to guide her with gentle pressure. She moved a little woodenly and struggled to relax to make the dancing easier. She felt like she was in the spotlight. Everyone kept their distance as if to better watch them. She knew she wasn’t putting on a good show. Not very ladylike at all.

“Dear Calax, Lord Tavik gotten a common pig wench.” Her back stiffened in response to the overheard comment. She peeked up at Tavik to see if he’d heard the comment, but he showed no indication that he had. She tried harder to learn the dance steps, but her nerves and seething resentment of the anonymous insult made her move jerkily.

“The way to vex them is to enjoy yourself,” he murmured.

So he had heard the comment. She set her jaw, and she nodded imperceptibly. She renewed her effort to relax and soon had the moves of the dance learned and was able to follow him without trouble.

“You look very lovely tonight,” he said, breaking the silence between them again.

She gave him a polite smile in acknowledgment of his compliment. “I think Yula wishes to vex Mrs. Boon by doing her job well,” she replied.

He chuckled and briefly then fell silent again. He tilted his head down to her, and she got the feeling that the light moment had passed before it could be fully enjoyed. She stared into the dark holes for his eyes. “About this afternoon…” he began, but he trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow as she waited for him to finish his statement. She had a sinking feeling that she was not going to like what he had to say. She had berated herself for what had transpired during lunch, but she didn’t exactly want to hear he had found what happened embarrassing or morally questionable. 

“I apologize for breaking our agreement,” he finally finished.

She blinked at him a moment in surprise. That was right. She had made him swear not to expect any bedroom fun from her, and he had basically taken advantage of her while she was tied up and blindfolded, never mind the fact that she had been a cheering participant.

She dropped her head as the blush crept over her cheeks. She didn't know how to respond to his apology. If she forgave him, he could construe it as an invitation to try to get hot and heavy with her again, and in confusion, she realized that she wasn’t entirely opposed to that idea. What to do, she wondered. She worried her bottom lip as she scrambled for a way to reply, but the music stopped before she could formulate a diplomatic response. Tavik didn't prod her for an answer, and for the moment, she assumed that her silence was answer enough. She followed him, but instead of going back to their seats, he took them to the doors. It looked like he was ready for them to leave. Naomi was glad.

They walked from the main hall, up the stairs, and back to her room in silence. He held her bedroom door open for her as she slipped inside. She turned to face him holding her breath. What now? He bowed his head and closed the door with him still in the hall. She slumped and started to breathe again. As she turned to bed, she shrugged out of her finery and removed her jewelry.

Tavik’s silence had unnerved her, but she couldn’t blame him for it. She hadn't even managed a thank you for the apology and merely a shy nod for farewell. Next to her, he had been the chatty one. She fell into bed happy that the day was finally over. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she had no clue what the next day would bring.

That night, she dreamed the unicorn met her in the great hall. Music began for them to dance. The unicorn bowed low, and she curtsied back, but as they began to move, she remembered that she didn't know how to dance and faltered. The unicorn pranced in step to the music, but she could only stand still and watch as he danced away.

When Yula woke her the next morning, she felt bleary eyed and grumpy. She became grumpier when she reminded herself there was no possibility of coffee with breakfast. How was she to survive her adventure without the assistance of caffeine? To further torture herself, she ticked off in her mind other amenities that she didn’t have: indoor plumbing, telephones, the internet, television, and worst of all no chocolate. She was doomed, and her crabbiness grew.

Yula reminded her gently that she had her first riding lesson that morning. She added another item to her list: no automobiles. Dressed warmly in a plain gown and shoes, she went down to the stables with Yula to begin her riding lesson. Geoff, the stable master was waiting with one of the draft horses.

The stable master had a red face from the sun and an easy grin. She could only muster a grimaced smile to give back to him.

“This, milady, is Stomper. Don’t let his size worry you. He’s the biggest softie there is. I thought we would start on him if that’s all right with the lady.”

She lifted her hand to the horse’s muzzle in greeting. Stomper sniffed her hand and blew warm breathes of air into it. “Here, give him this. He’ll warm to you real quick.” He handed her a carrot, which she dutifully offered. Stomper took the carrot happily from her hand, and as he munched it contentedly, she grew bolder and petted the horse’s neck. He lowered and stretched it for her and stomped one hoof in enjoyment. She began to warm to the horse.

With Geoff’s assistance, she mounted. “Now, just relax and get your bearings. Go with the horse.”

She sat on the back of Stomper as Geoff led the horse around the courtyard. They did several wide circles.

“You’re getting the hang of it, milady.”

“Oh yes, if you’re around to lead him, riding is an absolute breeze.”

“You’ll be holding the reins soon enough, don’t worry. I can see you’ll be a fine horsewoman.”

“That’s not what my husband tells me. He despaired that not even you would have enough patience for me.”

Geoff chuckled. “I don’t know anything about that, milady. You’re doing fine.”

She smiled but knew she still had a lot to learn before she would be able to manage a horse on her own, but she hadn’t broken anything of hers or the horse, and Geoff was still fine too. All in all her first lesson was turning out to be a stirring success.

“You know, a unicorn will never let you ride him. That will be a sip of wine and a piece of cheese, please.”

And she fell off the horse. Well, there went all that success.

Her tumble from the saddle startled Stomper and Geoff. The stable master quickly handed the horse off to a stable boy and went to her side. “Are you all right?”

She winced and took his offered hand. “I think so. A spider startled me. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, milady. How about we call it a day?”

She nodded and hobbled back to her rooms without Yula, having dispatched the woman to get her more wine and cheese.

Once she was back in her room, she looked down at herself and asked an uncomfortable question. “Mr. Squibbles, are you somewhere on my person?”

“Right here,” the mouse said climbing out from under her hair. She picked the mouse up off her shoulder and set him down on the table.

“You better not have left me any presents up here,” she warned, combing her fingers through her hair.

The mouse snorted and began to clean his whiskers.

“I’m not learning how to ride so I can ride a unicorn. I’m learning just to know. Tell me more about unicorns.”

“Not till the servant gets back.”

She sighed and puttered around the room. She found a thimble and held onto it to use with the mouse. She hoped Tavik didn’t stop by again for lunch. She wanted to get the mouse stuffed and drunk and learn everything she could about unicorns.

BOOK: Unicorn Bait
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