Betrayed (29 page)

“Aye,” he agreed, rolling onto his back. “That I am.”

He’d had to be for as long as he could remember. At the age of fourteen he’d had two-score seasoned moss-troopers following his orders without hesitation. One did not achieve that by showing leniency. But this was his wife. A woman he…

Krayne grunted as he reached out, pulling her into his side before she could resist. He pressed her cheek to his chest and slid his arm beneath and around her, his palm splayed on her belly, holding her firmly to him. His wife. A woman he had some definite feelings for, as much as he couldn’t quite define them.

Her hand went to his chest, tentatively at first, then her fingers threaded through the curls, up to his nipples and rested there. A part of him melted. He wasn’t sure which part. It wasn’t his shaft—that he knew. Nay,
that
part of him was halfway erect again. Damn it all, would he never get enough of Amber?

And then he smiled. He knew he never would and it no longer seemed like a hardship he had to bear. He’d want her body from here to eternity, and he wanted more over and above that. He wanted her all. “This bedding was long overdue, Amber. I did what had ta be done.” She shifted in his arms, trying to get free, but he held her close. “I’ll never force ye ta my will again, sweeting, on that ye have my word.”

“Hah!” She jerked her head back to look him in the eye.

Krayne grinned and wondered what the hell he was doing. “Ye’ll sleep in my bed every night, ’tis where a wife should be, but ye have the right ta refuse my entry. My strength will not make us unevenly matched in our marriage bed.”

She raised a wary brow at him. “You promise?”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Now close yer eyes and sleep. ’Tis a while yet before supper.”

Amber fell asleep almost at once, each shallow breath pressing soft breast into his chest. He was reluctant to move, perversely satisfied to feel her against him and relish the torture as his lust stirred wide-awake.

“Ah, well.” He removed himself, carefully turning Amber on her back, and went to heat a little water in the contraption she’d had set up in the back room’s hearth. When he took the bowl of water and linen cloth to the bed and spread her thighs, there was less blood than he’d expected. Memories of that other night assailed him, her thighs covered with blood, her torn shift. But there was no more anger at her trickery, only relief that from here on there’d be no more pain and fear in his marriage, only pleasure.

He was smiling as he made his way down the stairs to the hall, and didn’t even scowl when Duncan accosted him at the bottom.

“Ye canna hold me here against my will,” Duncan said.

“Actually, I can.” Krayne folded his arms and raised a brow. He was feeling particularly lenient. “I want ye back within a year and then we’ll review the situation.”

“Damn it all, Krayne. I deserve this chance ta—” Duncan’s gaze narrowed as he suddenly digested his brother’s words, and then he was grinning from ear to ear as he fisted a hand in the air. “Ye willna regret this. I’ll make ye proud, I swear.”

“See that ye do,” he said, only allowing his own grin to come through as he watched Duncan hurry off, no doubt to spread the news.

Amber came awake on a sensation of intense satisfaction and well-being, as if her every desire had been met and then improved on. Giving a feline stretch, it took a moment for reality to descend. She jerked upright. The covers slid off, baring her naked breasts. Between her thighs she was sore and stiff.

And she hadn’t just allowed him into her body, she had moaned and clung and arched for more.

Amber scrambled from the bed, found her shift in the corner where she’d tossed it and quickly slid it over her head. The only leverage she’d had was disinterest, cold disdain and sneering disgust at his advances, and she hadn’t even the sense to use it.

And what had he said? In a moment of compassion, no doubt overcome with pity for the weakling he had total power and authority over, he’d sworn that she could refuse him future entry.

Amber snorted as she picked up her crumpled gown and shook it out. Some generosity that was! How could she refuse Krayne, when that refusal would only send him to Gayle’s bed?

No, she remembered, Gayle was leaving.

“There’ll be others,” she muttered, stepping into the gown. “Every time I close my legs, there’ll be a dozen others opening wide.”

“Leave that off.” The growl was a husky command.

She quickly pulled the gown up, over her hips, pinning the bodice to her chest as she whirled about. The arrogant swine was grinning, lolling in the archway with that brooding pewter gaze.

“You gave me your word.”

“Pull in yer claws, wife.” His advance was lithe, a wolf stalking his prey. “I dinna recall naught about being allowed ta feast my eyes on ye.”

“Krayne, don’t…” Too late. He plucked the bodice from her fingers. The material pooled at her feet to leave her standing in her shift.

He didn’t move away, unnerving her and sending her senses into a spin, feasting at his leisure.

And Amber knew that she could not take for him to look at another woman with that hungry gaze. Finally he moved, taking her hand in his and turning. “Come, I thought ye might appreciate supper in the privacy of our chamber.”

“I’m not dressed,” she told him, pulling her hand free.

His gaze appraised her from head to foot, but this time there was more warmth than arrogance. “Ah, my sweeting, yer dressed just fine fer me.”

The raw desire in his voice melted through the crust of her shame, failed pride and jealousy. She’d never given in to defeat before and she wouldn’t start today. Passion’s teeth, hadn’t she once told him that God had given women curves and the intelligence to use them? Victory lay in keeping her husband enthralled in her charms and out of anyone else’s bed.

“I’ll join you in a moment,” she told Krayne, ushering him into the outer chamber.

Krayne stoked the fire at the hearth. The height of summer was upon them, but the late evening air could still produce a chill that needed more protection than a shift. Or would she defy him and be fully dressed?

He scowled into the fanned flames. What hellish kind of game was he playing anyway? He knew well that he couldn’t take his wife again tonight, not so soon after her first time. He should have ordered that sumptuous little body wrapped in blankets from top to bottom. He was completely befuddled to demand this self-torture that filled his loins and made him hard.

He threw the log that he’d been using onto the flames and flung his tense body into one of the chairs he’d dragged to the table holding their supper tray. Ah, he was daft when it came to Amber, but mayhap that was also the way of mankind. For wouldn’t a thirsty man still prefer to gaze on a bubbling burn, even though he knew he couldn’t drink?

He heard Amber before he saw her. His throat went dry, instantly parched as he watched her approach. No bubbling burn, but a graceful waterfall plunging vibrantly from the loftiest crag, sparkling and splashing in a brilliant fall to a clear, inviting pool surrounded by the verdant foliage of a sun-kissed spring morn…

Krayne reached for his goblet. The cool wine did naught to quench his thirst. He threw back the entire contents anyway and dug deep for some elusive restraint, well aware he had to get through this night one way or another. “Is that my shirt?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Amber said, moving to stand with her back to the hearth. “My shift was crumpled and uncomfortable.”

The flickering flames behind her illuminated every curve and cast alluring shadows by her breasts and at the juncture of her thighs, reminding Krayne of her first night in his bedchamber, albeit under very different circumstances. Now he felt the prisoner, trapped by his own greedy desires. “And I suppose ye have only the one shift?”

“No.” She brought one hand up to finger the cotton edge hanging in a low vee at her cleavage. He swore her smile was deliberately provocative. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he drawled, making every effort to relax his tightly wound muscles. He poured her some wine, then filled his own goblet again.

Did his wife have any idea what she was doing to him?

His gaze came up, wary as he recalled that seducing men was her favourite pastime. She was seated across the table from him, her attention focused on lifting the silver cover from the tray.

What the devil was she up to?

The pheasant was finely roasted, the tender meat melting from the bone with a gently tug. He offered her a small piece, and felt the sensory tingle as their fingers brushed.

“Thank you,” Amber said, delighting in the way his gaze darkened to pewter. Seducing one’s husband, she discovered, was a most pleasurable pastime. Nothing like the many times she’d used seduction for her survival.

She nibbled at her meat. “The pheasant is delicious.”

“Aye, the entire meal is delicious.” His appreciative gaze and gruff tone left her in no doubt that he considered her part of that meal.

She sent a teasing smile his way.

“What are ye doing, Amber?”

“I am dining with you, my lord, as ordered.”

“Then I suggest ye eat and dinna look at me with that emerald lust, lest ye wish me ta douse it once more this night.” Krayne’s brow shot high when her gaze remained on him, bold and heated. His body was instantly hard to accommodate, but he didn’t want to hurt her again. “I wish we could, sweeting, but not so soon again.”

She tipped her chin up and gave him a slow smile. “Don’t leave me tonight, Krayne.”

Krayne watched her as he tore another strip of meat from the pheasant leg with his teeth and chewed.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he promised at last. “Come ta me.”

She stood without hesitation and moved to stand before him. He had her sideways in his lap before she’d come to a stop.

“I’ll not leave ye,” he whispered huskily at her ear, twining a raven tendril around his fingers as he did so. “I’ll hold ye in my arms all night.”

The ends of her shirt caught under her backside and he tugged it free. His shaft reared against the leather of his britches to prod her bare lower cheek. With one hand, he turned her lips to his, his other hand went under the shirt and found a breast.

“Ah,” Amber sighed, just before his mouth came down. The kiss was urgent, penetrating her mouth with raw abandon. Her husband was not going anywhere tonight, she had his word.

There was no reason to continue this seduction…except for the rare thrill and joy of it.

For the first time in her life, Amber felt she knew what seduction was truly for.

Krayne’s palm cupped her breast. She met his groan of hot longing with a moan as he turned her further with single determination, moulding her firmly to his chest. She rubbed up and down his chest, teasing his ardour.

“Devil take it,” groaned Krayne as his lips left her mouth to kiss a path down her throat and to the slender curve of shoulder. “Not tonight, sweetest, yer yet tender.”

“Let me be the judge.”

The soft surrender in her voice pulled Krayne to his senses.

Keeping her wrapped in his arms, he pushed to his feet and carried her into their adjoining chamber. As soon as he’d settled her on the bed, he stripped and joined her beneath the covers.

Amber snuck to his side, draping one arm over his abdomen and pressing her cheek to his chest.

Her gaze reached up to his, slaked with desire.

Krayne tucked his arm beneath her and dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, my little wildcat, tomorrow we can finish what ye started.”
 

Although Amber woke up alone, she knew Krayne had stayed with her the night. She’d stirred a few times and found herself secure in his arms. She dressed quickly and performed her morning ablutions, feeling light of heart.

As she moved through to the outer chamber, she spied the discarded tray from their supper. Seducing her husband last night had called forth an entirely different beast. Instead of bedding her, he’d cherished her.

A warm glow fed into her smile.

There was a timid rapping at the door.

“Enter,” called Amber, assuming it to be Mary. The woman had been scarce ever since their return from Annan. Not that Amber minded, she was quite capable of dressing herself except for when the occasion called for a more elaborate gown or hairstyle. When she saw who entered, her smile faltered. “What do
you
want?”

Gayle closed the door behind her and came further inside the room. “I came ta say goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Amber snapped, furious that her husband’s leman had actually come into their chamber to wish him farewell.

Only Gayle wasn’t in any hurry. “Ye may do well ta ask why I’m leaving.”

“I don’t particularly care.” Amber folded her arms, yet her glare softened as she admitted that her husband was more to blame than Gayle. Still, she hurt too much to attempt a reasonable attitude.

“I love him.” Gayle lowered herself into one of the chairs by the table. “I’m in love with Krayne. ’Tis why I have ta go.”

Get up and get out,
Amber wanted to scream.

“Is this where I’m supposed to beg your forgiveness for marrying him?” Amber asked in a voice of steel. “Or do you seek my eternal gratitude for disappearing and giving Krayne to me?”

To her utter chagrin, Gayle burst into laughter.

Amber folded her arms again and glared.

Finally the woman stopped laughing long enough to continue. “Krayne was never mine ta give. From the moment he took yer hand in marriage, he belonged ta ye and no one else. And if ye think otherwise, ye dinna know yer husband verra well.”

“I know Krayne well enough.”

“Then ye know he be a man o’ honour. He made a vow afore God above ta forsake all others and he’ll go ta his grave wi’ that promise branded on his heart and soul.”

Amber’s mouth opened in protest, then clamped shut again.

Krayne? Faithful?

“He hasna touched me, Amber. An’ if I thought he ever would agin, I’d wait here fer that day.”

“He didn’t exactly shout denial at my accusation.”

“He wouldna, would he? Krayne is not a man ta explain himself. ’Tis more likely he assumes yer trust without thinkin’ ta prove himself.”

Oh, dear Lord.

Amber slumped into the chair opposite Gayle. She wasn’t sure if she could trust this woman or her motives, but she did know Krayne.

She’d never given their wedding vows any proper thought, had in truth been in a complete daze throughout most of the ceremony. From what she knew of these Scots, she probably wasn’t entirely wrong in presuming
that
little clause was habitually omitted from their marriage sermon.

“He took you into his solar yesterday. I heard him, Gayle. He said naught has changed. That he still wants you.”

“I dinna know what ye thought ye heard, but all we did was discuss the details o’ my betrothal.”

Amber shook her head, confused and saddened, and not wholly convinced, then frowned suspiciously at Gayle. “You must hate me after what I said yesterday.”

“A little,” Gayle admitted.

“Then why would you care to ease my mind?”

Gayle pushed to her feet with a sigh and shrugged. “I love Krayne. I’m doin’ this fer him, nae fer ye. Yer husband be a honourable man, Amber. I wouldna see him shamed in his own home fer a dishonour he is nae capable o’.”

The barb hooked in Amber’s gut.

She hadn’t shamed Krayne, she’d shamed herself.

Gayle turned toward the door with a parting, “Make him happy, Amber. The man deserves naught less.”

Amber stared at the door long after it had closed, reluctantly admitting some respect for her husband’s leman.

As for Krayne…she loved him so. Something in her heart had been set free between yesterday and today. She’d loved him for a long while now, no matter how she’d tried to fight or deny it.

She loved the way his jaw locked down to keep his temper in. She loved the shades of passion, anger and amusement that turned his eyes from smoky grey to glinted silver to pewter in no particular order or set pattern.

She loved that beneath his harsh exterior was a gentleness he didn’t even realise, the many times he’d prowled his chamber until the early hours of dawn when he could have taken her by right.

She loved the humming control of his entire body as he’d wrapped her in his arms last night and held her close ’til early morn.

She loved it all. She was made for his touch. His strength protected the lady in her and his potency drove the woman to wild abandon.

She loved that he could send her knees into a quake and lace fire through her blood with that lopsided grin and naught more than a look. Aye, and that she could break down his control just as easily.

She loved that he’d given her power over him in the one area of his weakest defence and knew she’d treat that gift with respect.

She wasn’t blinded to his faults. He was a hard man, unyielding even when the circumstances called for a change in his many rules. Too oft he treated her like a prize he’d claimed on the battlefield.

Even so, she loved him enough to overcome all that he’d done and still might do, enough to embrace all Krayne’s virtues
and faults
with outreached arms.

Except his arrogance, Amber amended a short while later.

She’d taken the tray below and on the way back from the kitchen, had stopped at the alcove where the castle’s linen was stored for a clean sheet. She pulled back the curtain and froze in disbelief at the couple entwined against the wall.

“Go away,” mumbled Brayan, not bothering to turn around.

Mary met her blank gaze over his shoulder and shrieked in horror. “Get off me, you great big lump of wood.”

“What the—” Brayan stood back, arms slack at his sides, watching Mary’s futile attempt to straighten her skirts and pat down her hair. Finally she prodded him hard enough to spin him about.

“Ah, um, excuse me, me lady,” he blustered, pushing past Amber before she could think to stop him.

Finding her wits, Amber rushed inside the alcove. “Did he hurt you? Oh, Mary, I am so sorry. I thought you had an affection for the man. I never dreamed that he’d take advantage—”

“Hush, child,” Mary snapped. Her cheeks were ablaze with colour and a smile tugged at her lips. “Brayan did naught that I disliked.”

“Ah.” Now Amber’s cheeks caught fire. This was Mary, after all. The woman who’d nursed her from a bairn, thirty years her senior, very nearly her mother when all was said and done. Amber shook her head roughly. “Then you two are…?”

Mary’s lack of response was answer enough.

“He’ll marry you,” Amber decided. “If Brayan has compromised you, Krayne will ensure that he acts honourably.”

“Marry me?” giggled Mary.

“Don’t you worry about a thing.”

“I’m not worried, child. But at my age, I’ll not have you arranging my nuptials.”

“But he—”

“Nay,” Mary interrupted. “He’s done little more than steal a few kisses and the blustering man has already proposed more times than I can count.”

Amber’s brows shot up.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Then Krayne will see to it that Brayan leaves you alone.”

“Och, you’d cheat an old woman of the few pleasures left?” Mary sniffed and pushed past Amber. “Leave him be to chase me awhile longer, child. I’ll marry Brayan when I’m good and ready.”

Krayne found Amber standing in the archway, holding the curtain back. He came up quietly from behind and peered over her head. “What are we looking at?”

Amber jumped, then turned on him with a scowl. “Do you
have
to do that?”

He chuckled, following her into the alcove and allowing the curtain to fall closed unobtrusively. He’d searched her out, thinking she might like to accompany him on his morning ride, but this particular alcove stirred some wicked sense of humour. “Well, now that we’re here, what did ye have in mind? I can vouch fer that shelf, ’tis fairly sturdy and just the right height.”

“For what?” Her nose puckered, reminding him that she was, in many ways, yet innocent.

Grinning, he swept the shelf clear, swung her up by the waist and sat her on top. She gasped as he wedged himself between her legs and placed his hands on either shoulder.

“Fer this, wife,” he murmured, bringing his head down to take advantage of her parted lips. He kissed her thoroughly, enjoying the heat she never failed to stir in his loins even as he knew he wouldn’t take her here. He could wait for tonight, but a quick taste would go a long way to carry him through the day.

Amber moaned softly when he pulled out of the kiss. His grin went lopsided to tug at her melting heart. But something else tugged at her mind, which was slowly clearing from the shock of Mary’s secret trysts and the fog of his kiss.

Krayne and Gayle.
I can vouch fer that shelf…

Passion’s teeth! They’d done it in here, as well. “You should have told me.”

“I’d prefer ta show ye,” he drawled, sliding his hands down her arms and then moving them to her thighs.

Amber slapped his hands off her. “I’m talking about you and Gayle. You could have told me it was over and spared me the embarrassment.”

A warning glint cooled his gaze as he folded his arms. “Gayle has naught ta do with ye.”

“I saw you,” Amber blurted into his arrogance. “I saw the two of you together, rutting like animals. How can that have naught to do with me, your wife?”

“Ye saw us…where?”

His quiet voice told her she’d roused his temper. But he’d done no less to her. Shoving his exploits in her face.
I can vouch fer that shelf, ’tis fairly sturdy and just the right height.
“In your solar.”

“Ye spied on me?”

“Of course not! ’Twas a mistake, and you might think of bolting the door next time—” She cut off abruptly. What was done was done. There’d be no more next times. She didn’t want to go around in circles for the rest of their lives. “What matters is that I knew you were involved with her and might have welcomed having my mind set at ease once we were wed.”

Krayne was not about to defend or explain every past affair that found its way to his wife’s ears on the wings of castle gossip, but this was different. If he’d known she’d seen him with Gayle, he would have made a point of reassuring her. “There will be no next time, Amber.”

“Good!”

“And I’ll not tolerate ye sneaking behind doors, either. I’ve naught ta hide, but I willna be spied on. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly.” Amber tried to jump down from the stupid ledge and flee, but his thighs were still firmly wedged between hers. “Please release me.”

He moved away, but only so far as the curtained arch, blocking her escape.

“Was there something else?” she asked.

Krayne met her flashing gaze with a scowl as his mood darkened. Was one day of truce truly so unattainable? A snatched moment of sensual play in a curtained alcove truly so forbidden?

“Nay,” he said, turning abruptly and slipping out past the hanging curtain. He made straight for his favourite swimming hole and cooled his temper in the frigid water. He’d taken more frosty swims since meeting Amber than in all the days he’d lived.

When he returned to the castle, Amber was by the central hearth in the great hall. From the look on her face, she was in animated conversation with Alexander, who sat awkwardly on a chair pulled close to the fire.

“I’m well enough ta stand,” Alexander was groaning as Krayne came within earshot.

“Then mayhap I should increase your dose,” warned Amber with a teasing smile. “You will take it easy, Lexie, even if I have to keep you half-asleep until your ribs are healed.”

Lexie?
Krayne bit down a disgruntled exclamation and hastened his approach. “Yer under no obligation ta drink that foul potion my lady wife prepares,” he told his captain.

“Nay, Krayne, ’tis all that makes breathin’ bearable.”

Krayne turned on his wife. “Ye’re turning my men inta lily-livered noonies.”

She merely shrugged and Alexander, he noted, smiled contentedly, as if being a noonie was an accolade to be earned.

“Come, wife.” He took her hand. “’Tis past our bedtime.”

Alexander chuckled aloud.

“We’ve only just had supper,” protested Amber, digging her toes in. “I’m not the least bit tired.”

“Who said anything about sleep?”

Alexander’s chuckle became a roar, and then a gargling choke as he doubled over.

Concerned, Amber immediately struggled to free her arm so she could go to his side.

“He’ll survive,” Krayne promised darkly, marching for the stairs and pulling her along. “And if he doesna, not many men can claim dying of mirth.”

Amber punched his arm. “He needs help, Krayne.”

Krayne rolled his eyes, then stopped and called out to no one in particular. “Alexander needs a little aid, men. Get ta him and see that he doesna laugh himself ta death.” He glanced down at his wife. “Satisfied?” he growled, and continued marching her up the stairs.

“What have I done now?” Amber demanded once they were in the chamber. She was mightily tired of been pulled and plucked to wherever Krayne thought to put her.

“Naught that I’m aware of,” he said silkily as he busied himself with rearranging the two chairs by the hearth. “Come sit.”

“I’m not a chair, Krayne. You cannot just move me from here to there without asking where I’d like to be.”

“And where would ye like ta be, wife?” Krayne took one of the chairs and stretched his legs out in front of the fire.

The fire did look inviting, Amber thought. Not that she was the least bit cold. But there was something about sitting across from her husband before a log fire. The scene was set and it was cosy.