Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (11 page)

Kalena came back to her senses as he tugged her after him. "Where are we going? My rooms are back

there. Surely you're not thinking of actually . . . actually . . ." Her voice trailed off as he stopped in front of

his room and shoved open the arched door. He wouldn't really beat her as he had half-threatened earlier,

she told herself. He couldn't do such a thing. Even if he had no claim to any House, he would not

embarrass the Great House by which he was employed by abusing a woman.

"Relax. I didn't bring you here to beat you, Kalena," he told her mildly, pulling her into the chamber and

shutting the door.

"Then why are we here?" she demanded, realizing he was making no move to turn on the firegel lamps.

In the deep shadows Ridge seemed very large and threatening. At times he was indeed a creature of

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darkness; something dangerous and forbidding.

"We're here," he said bluntly, "so that I can claim my gift. You aren't going to tell me I have no right to it,

are you?" He began unlacing the leather that fastened the front of his shirt. His movements were

deliberate.

In the red-tinted moonlight drifting through the window, Kalena saw the lambent flames in Ridge's eyes.

The fire in him was still evident, but it had taken on a different kind of heat. She caught her breath as full

realization flooded over her. In the wake of that womanly knowledge came another emotion, a

blossoming excitement of the kind she had first encountered in the garden the night before. Perhaps her

rising euphoria also had a few roots in the surging physical excitement she had experienced during the

tavern brawl. Kalena wasn't sure and she didn't feel much like analyzing the matter. Not now. She didn't

move as myriad thoughts half-formed and then faded in her head. One remained, prodding her to ask the

single question that needed to be asked.

"Are you doing this to punish me for what I did tonight?" Her voice was a husky whisper.

Ridge finished the last of the laces and stood with his shirt open. He studied her, lifting one hand to catch

her chin. "No, Kalena, I'm not going to make love to you in order to punish you."

"Then why?"

"It's our wedding day," he pointed out quietly.

She shook her head. "But not our wedding night."

His mouth curved faintly in the moonlight. "We'll make it our wedding night."

"Will we?" The excitement was flickering through her, as undeniable as it was dangerous. Aunt Olara

would be furious if she knew what was happening. Olara's fierce objections to this moment of feminine

discovery sounded once more in Kalena's head: You must not allow a man to embrace you until you

have accomplished your mission. The honor of your House is at stake. You must not allow yourself to be

deflected from the path that has been ordained for you. Passion is dangerous. It can cloud the mind and

blind it to what must be done. Nothing and no one must stand between you and your destiny as the last

daughter of the House of the Ice Harvest.

But she was on the brink of that destiny tonight, Kalena told herself. Surely it was too late for a man's

passion to deflect her from her goal. She would do what had to be done. The honor of her House would

be avenged, Kalena promised herself. But tonight belonged to her. She was filled with a wild, reckless

energy that convinced her she could handle both her mission and this passionate encounter.

Tonight she could have still another taste of the heady freedom that would be hers when she had killed

Quintel. She was strong enough to risk it. Olara was wrong. She was not so weak as to be seduced from

her task by temptations, Kalena told herself. She could sample the temptation and still do her duty.

She felt the rough edge of Ridge's hand on the line of her jaw. If something went wrong, if she failed in

her task, or even if she succeeded but managed to bungle somehow, she could easily be dead by this

time tomorrow. The thought of dying without ever having known the end result of this flaring exhilaration

was infinitely depressing. Surely she could ignore Olara's warnings tonight. It was too late for any damage

to be done. A few hours of passionate discovery in this man's arms would not cloud her mind or turn her

aside from the task that awaited.

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"Do you swear on your honor that you have no intention of punishing me for disobeying you tonight?

That only desire guides you now?" she asked softly. If she was going to defy Olara's teachings and take

the risk of giving herself to the Fire Whip, she had to be certain that his motives were as simple and

honest as her own. She would take the risk of surrendering to passion and freedom, but she would not

submit to some warped notion of retribution. She might be the last daughter of a Great House, but she

was, nevertheless, a member of that House. She would act as such.

Ridge cradled her face between his large hands, his fingers strong and sure and curiously gentle on her

skin. "I think, sweet farm girl, that you have been breathing the intoxicating air of freedom for the past

couple of days. You like it, don't you?"

"Very much," she agreed with a tremulous smile.

"Tonight you think you have discovered just how exciting it is to be on your own, calling no man lord,

husband, or master." His eyes gleamed. "You've had quite an adventure, haven't you? Was it fun running

a little wild?"

Kalena sensed the new element of indulgence in him. "Yes," she admitted breathlessly, "it was fun."

More fun than she had ever known in the years spent under Olara's bitter, vengeful, eye.

"I don't intend to punish you for the fun you had tonight, Kalena," Ridge assured her in a low voice made

almost lazy with sensuality. "I plan to show you that there is more excitement to be found on my pallet

than you'll ever discover in a tavern brawl."

Kalena lightly touched one of his hands as he held her face. Her fingers were trembling, she realized

vaguely. In fact, her whole body was shivering ever so slightly. She felt light-headed as the reckless

elation that had guided her all evening surged to a new strength, a thousand times more powerful than it

had been even in the midst of the brawl. Freedom beckoned and could no longer be denied.

"Ridge . . ." She put her palms on his shoulders, fascinated with the heat of his skin that penetrated the

sturdy fabric of his shirt.

"Come with me, farmer's daughter, and let me show you how exciting town life really is." Ridge shifted,

one arm sweeping under her knees, the other behind her shoulders.

The moon-tinted chamber swung dizzyingly for an instant as Kalena was lifted high against Ridge's chest.

She closed her eyes and clung to him, aware that he was striding toward the low, curtained pallet at the

far end of the room. She would not think of the past or her future, she promised herself. What was

happening now had nothing to do with her duty or her heritage. This moment existed only for her.

The wide sleeping pallet was on a low, raised dais of richly carved wood. Ridge lowered Kalena to her

feet, letting her body slide along his own until she was standing in front of him.

"I'm glad Arrisa and the others didn't get around to cutting your hair," he muttered thickly, burying his

fists in the mass of curls. He used his hold to tilt her head back for his kiss.

Kalena trembled again as she sensed the full force of his barely leashed desire. Her nails sank urgently

into his shirt, seeking his hard, muscled shoulders under the fabric. Ridge groaned and deepened the kiss.

His tongue surged into her mouth and Kalena got a sample of the fire in him. She whispered his name, her

voice hoarse with pleasure.

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Eyes closed, her mouth flowering under his, Kalena was only dimly aware of Ridge's hands on the

fastening of her tunic. A moment later she felt the beautiful material slip to the floor, forming a pool of soft

color at her feet. She was left wearing only thin, narrow trousers and soft velvet boots. Kalena was bared

to his touch from the waist and the knowledge made her insides tighten with anticipation and desire.

"You have a dancer's back," Ridge murmured wonderingly, letting his fingers knead the sensitive curve

above her lush buttocks. "Very proud, very elegant. How did a farmer's daughter absorb such pride and

elegance into her very bones?"

But he wasn't waiting for an answer. He urged Kalena closer until her nipples touched his chest through

the opening of his shirt. Crisp, masculine hair teased the sensitive tips of her breasts until she couldn't tell

if the sensation was exquisitely exciting or exquisitely painful. She sucked in her breath and pulled back

slightly.

"Don't be afraid of me, Kalena. I'm going to be
your
husband. It will be my duty and my pleasure to

take care of you. Relax and learn to trust me, sweet wife-to-be. You must learn to trust me."

Ridge lowered her down onto the pallet and knelt on the rug in front of her. Steadying herself once more

with her hands on his shoulders, Kalena watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he carefully removed her

boots.

"Are you very sure, Ridge?" She wasn't certain of the exact nature of her question, but knew that she

needed some kind of assurance from him.

"I'm very sure." He eased her back against the pillows and flattened his hand on her soft stomach. When

she looked up at him with a wordless longing, he murmured something under his breath and stroked the

delicate trousers down to her ankles in one easy, sweeping motion.

For a moment he simply gazed at her, and then, sitting on the pallet, he impatiently yanked off his own

boots. He got to his feet, golden eyes gleaming down at her in the shadows. He discarded his shirt and

unbuckled his belt. The sheathed sintar clattered lightly as it struck the floor beside the pallet. With one

last, swift movement, he was naked.

Kalena looked at Ridge, fascinated by the hard, male shape of him. She had lived all of her life in the

country and had been raised by a professional Healer, but she had never seen an unclothed man before.

She was absorbed by the sight of Ridge, and put the image of him into the only context she knew.

He was a fine male animal in his prime, smoothly muscled and boldly, aggressively formed. The taut

planes of his chest gave way to the flat, hard surface of his stomach. Below that the powerful outline of

his manhood was enlarged and heavy with the unmistakable evidence of his desire.

"Do you like looking at me, country girl?"

"Yes," she whispered, vividly aware of his strong hands on her waist as he came down beside her.

"Then we're in luck. Because I like looking at you. Very much."

He moved his hand to her breast, cupping her gently as he bent his head to taste the skin of her throat.

Kalena stirred beneath him as he used his thumb to tease and tantalize a nipple. Her hands went around

him instinctively.

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"Go ahead and touch me." Ridge groaned heavily as she obeyed. "You're so soft, so beautifully soft and

round and warm," he muttered against the curve of her breast. Then he was taking the erect nipple into

his mouth, tugging gently until Kalena cried out softly. "That's it, my love. Those are the words I want to

hear tonight."

His hand slid lower, shaping the small curve of her waist and finding the gentle roundness below.

Kalena's breath came more quickly as the sensual heat was stoked higher in her body. The fire in Ridge

was reaching out to consume her. She let her own hands slip down the length of him, delighting in the

hard contours of his shoulders, experimenting with the feminine magic she was discovering within herself.

When Ridge's questing hand reached the soft nest of hair at the juncture of her thighs, he lifted his head

to look down at her. "Part your legs for me, Kalena. Open yourself. I want to touch all of you. I have to

touch you."

She hesitated, more out of a lingering uncertainty than any real fear. But when he coaxed her ankles

apart with his foot, she forgot about the vague unsureness she had been feeling and buried her face

against his shoulder. She opened herself to him, lifting her hips against the heat of his hand.

"Ah, Kalena, you are as ready for me as the lock is ready for its key. And we are going to fit together

just as perfectly."

Kalena shuddered as Ridge touched her with deep intimacy. His fingers explored her gently, finding the

center of her excitement and teasing her there until her hands were clenched into his shoulders, her nails

like tiny sintars. Then he stroked inside the dampening channel that seemed to be the core of her body.

"Ridge!"

"Soon, my sweet farm lady. Very soon. When I have made you so hot you think you are going to burst

into flames, that's when I'lltake you."

"I'll go out of my head," she gasped, reaching down to capture his hand and press it more tightly against

herself.

"That's exactly how I want you," he told her, his voice huskier than she had yet heard it. "Exactly how I