Lord of Vengeance (32 page)

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Authors: Lara Adrian

BOOK: Lord of Vengeance
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Why had he gone? And where?

Raina sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest, waiting and watching the night candle burn to a smoldering stub. It had been several hours since the keep had been abed and still no sign of him. What if he was hurt? Or, dear God, what if he'd decided to confront her father this very night?

She had already settled it in her mind that she would accompany Gunnar to the meeting, prepared to defend him against her father in any way she could. Determined to make peace. Neither man would inflict harm on the other with her present, that much she knew. That much she trusted.

But should the matter come to a choice between returning to Norworth and remaining with Gunnar, Raina was prepared to bid her father farewell forever.

Panicked that he might have decided to leave for Norworth without telling her, Raina was just about to don Gunnar's mantle and ride out after him when she heard the gate grind open. In the space of a heartbeat, she was at the window, fumbling to unfasten the shutters. Her fingers trembled with anticipation, but at last she freed the bindings.

She flung the shutters wide open and peered out anxiously. Cold rain slanted in through the window. Below, in the bailey, a dark knight leapt from his mount. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

“Gunnar!” She lifted her hand and laughed with near-hysterical joy at his safe return. He hesitated, looking up to where she stood in the window, but his expression was concealed by the driving rain and the dark of a moonless night. He threw the reins to an approaching guard and bolted into the castle.

Raina ran from the chamber to the stairwell, hearing his spurs clink on the steps as he took them two at a time. Relief and something so much stronger flooded her senses in the moments it took for him to reach the top.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, a wet and haggard warrior, his hair plastered in slick, raven spikes to his face. His tunic, soaked and dripping, clung to him like his own skin. His grin was lopsided and completely unrepentant.

She threw her arms around him. “I was worried.”

Her intended scold had somehow been reduced to a whisper. The words scarcely left her lips before he caught her behind the knees and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to his chamber with a look of passionate determination in his blazing dark eyes. He kicked the door shut with his foot. Depositing her on the mattress, he stripped off his baldric and scabbard then pulled his wet tunic over his head, throwing it to the floor.

Raina felt compelled to fill the silence. “'Tis been several hours since you left, and the storm...” Her voice drifted to nothingness as Gunnar climbed onto the bed. “Have you nothing to say?”

“Aye,” he growled. “Your worries were wasted.”

He crawled toward her on the bed like a sleek, wet panther stalking his prey, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching and flexing with each move he made. He looked unearthly, animalistic, and Raina willingly surrendered to his power. She drew in her breath when his arm snaked out and seized her ankle, pulling her down onto her back. In one fluid movement he was upon her, his chest pressing against hers, further soaking the thin fabric of her bliaut. He pressed into her, melding their bodies together as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“What have you done to me?” He swore an oath as she ran her fingers down the length of his back, pressing her hips into his.

The feel of him, so hard with need, so filled with want for her, was intoxicating and gave Raina courage to explore his body. Her fingers slipped beneath the waist of his braies to feel the soft skin of his hips. He groaned when she moved to the front, splaying her fingers in the crisp hair she found there and moving the back of her hand against the thick heat of his desire.

Sensing his anticipation, she moved to grasp him firmly in her palm, smiling as he hissed a sharp breath. Velvety steel surged tighter as she stroked him, slowly at first, then quickened her caress in response to his body's fevered reaction. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. “My God, woman, you'll unman me in my braies.”

“Good,” she purred. “'Tis only fair that I make you lose control of your body as you so like to do to me.”

He rose on his elbows and looked her in the eyes. “Turnabout is fair play, lamb, and I'm finding that I rather like losing control.”

He swallowed her laughter with a kiss. She reached down, unfastening the ties at his waist and shoving the linen trousers down his hips, freeing him from the confines of his clothing. She curled her hand around his pulsing heat again, delighting in its palpable surge of silken power. She brushed the moist tip with her finger, tracing a wet ring around the crown of his manhood. His breath was ragged beside her ear as she continued to tease him, rejoicing in the moans and sighs she elicited with so simple a gesture.

She stroked the length of him, tentatively at first, then more boldly when his hips began to move with the motion. Impossible as it seemed, he grew larger in her grasp, filling her hand so that she could scarcely close her fingers around him. She had only a moment to marvel at the idea before his hand found hers and stilled it, bringing her fingers to his mouth. He kissed her hand and placed it against his chest. His heart thundered beneath her palm, nearly as fevered as his breathing.

He kissed her wildly, moving over her and spreading her thighs with his knee. The urgent weight of his erection nestled between her legs then pressed forward, gliding easily into her. He groaned as he buried himself deep within her, filling her exquisitely as he sheathed himself to the hilt. Raina's hips arched against him, coaxing him deeper, wanting him fully. Her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, holding him tighter as he surged into her, his strokes at once hungry and fierce.

He took her savagely, with a driven quest to impale her very soul, to brand her as his own. His need for her unnerved him. His want to possess her consumed him. He thrust into her, harder and deeper, as if to crawl inside of her, wanting her to feel the breadth of his wanting, the power of his desire for her. With a final surge, Gunnar dove to the crest of her womb, rejoicing in her whimper of release. Slowly, with a control that surprised him, he withdrew nearly to leave her, then slid back in, his strokes long and deep, bringing her to the pinnacle of yet another wave of ecstasy.

She cried out, the most delicious sound to his ears, and her hips came up to meet his bold strokes. Gathering her trembling shoulders to him, he pressed deeper, his own desire claiming his senses and his control.

She held fast to him, meeting his strokes and pressing heated kisses to his neck, beneath his ear, her breath hot and panting against his skin. Each thrust went deeper, made him harder, drove him closer and closer to climax, until with a final surge and a strangled cry, he exploded inside her, his seed coming fast and wild, spilling into the searing heat of her womb.

Some reckless part of him hoped it would take, indeed, secretly hoped that he had already gotten her with his child. It was a fool's wish to be sure, and worse, a selfish desire to know that no matter what happened when he met her father, he would always be a part of her and she of him. But she deserved better than his bastard. She deserved far better than he could ever hope to give her.

Still, that didn't stop him from thinking about spending the rest of his life at her side. Since she'd shared her innocent wish for a future together, Gunnar had been entertaining similar notions. Agonizing over the prospect of having to contend with her father in a few days. Imagining himself wed to Raina, picturing her resplendent and heavy with his babes.

Each moment he spent with her made the dreams seem more real. Made the hopes seem more possible. Every time he kissed her, he thought about what could be.

Dangerous business, dreaming. Was that not his warning to her just yesterday? He had to put an end to it before he started making promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

As if he needed further torture, Raina nestled deep into his embrace and kissed him below the ear. “I love you,” she said, and an agonizing silence began to stretch between them. When he didn't respond, she said it again.

He moved off her then, rolling onto his back to stare sightlessly at the rafters. His exhaled breath was deep, rasping as he weighed what he was about to say. Beside him, Raina shrank away, her body tight with mounting apprehension.

“I cannot keep you here any longer,” he said at last, amazed that he was able to form the words. “I'm sending you home, back to Norworth. You'll leave in the morn.”

“Tomorrow? Why?”

He moved to the edge of the bed, sensing her confused, stricken gaze fixed on him. “Because it's time,” he answered gruffly. “Long past time, I reckon. We both knew this day was coming, Raina, sooner or later.”

“Aye, later.” The pain and shock in her voice stabbed him, sharp as any blade. “We still have four days left together--”

He forced himself to face her. “Four days and then what, lamb? I've taken too much from you already and soon I will be faced with the very real possibility of taking something else away from you--what remains of your family.”

“You mean more to me now than anything...or anyone else.”

“Ah, Raina. Don't fool yourself into thinking you no longer care for your father now that his past sins have been exposed. You said yourself he has never treated you unkindly, that the man you know is not the same person who wronged me. 'Tis a far easier thing to deny your love for him now, lying beside me in my bed, than it will be should you have to look upon him dead or damaged by my hand.”

Even in the dark he could see her face register distress at the idea. “Then you still intend to carry out your plan for vengeance, after everything--”

“I still plan to meet him, aye. Not even what we have shared these past few days can change my intent on that score. But I vow to you, the first blow will not be mine. Beyond that, I cannot warrant a thing.”

“But if you don't have me to bargain with, he has no reason to come,” she pointed out. His Raina, rational even when her heart was breaking.

“Tell him I've sent you home as a gesture of good faith. If he has acquired any amount of honor since the time I knew him, he will meet me, with or without my using you as bait. And if he is half the man you once thought him to be, he would want you there no more than I.”

“Gunnar, I want to be with you. You need me. What if something should happen? If I'm there, my father will be more receptive to you, more willing to discuss peaceful settlement--”

“My decision is made, Raina. I don't want you there.”
She paused before asking, “Because you're afraid you won't be able to slay him in my presence, as happened with Burc?”
“Ah, lamb, I had hoped you might know me better than that.”

“I'm not certain what I know anymore. I thought there was something between us. I thought things were different now. I thought things had changed...”

When he heard her voice break, he reached out to touch her cheek--then abruptly pulled his hand back. Comforting her now would be a greater sin than sending her away hurt. He could not give her false hope of a future together.

Not when he wasn't certain if he would ever see her again.

Though his own thoughts about vengeance and the confrontation with d'Bussy were now conflicted, in light of his having taken Raina hostage, Gunnar could not be sure the baron would arrive willing to talk rationally. And while he had no intention of striking the first blow, he could not guess at the baron's designs for the meeting. Already d'Bussy could be laying a trap or plotting an ambush.

The thought of dying had never scared Gunnar before and in truth, it didn't now. What made his stomach churn was the thought of Raina being there to see it. Killing was an ugly thing to witness even in the best of circumstances, and not something he could bear to suffer on a woman as gentle and good as she. And knowing his fierce lamb, he could not be sure that she would stay out of harm's way should the situation turn combative.

If she knew how strongly he felt about her, if she knew how much he wanted her in his life now and forever, it would only make her more determined to be with him when he met her father. And that was a risk he was simply unwilling to take.

He rose and strode to the door on weak legs. Before quitting the chamber, he said, “I'm sorry I've hurt you, Raina. But this is for the best. You'll have to trust me.”

 

* * *

 

Morning came too soon, and Raina woke alone in Gunnar's bed. She slowly donned her bliaut and a pair of leather shoes Agnes had brought her; she even took the time to braid her hair, hoping and praying that in his absence, Gunnar had not intended to send her home without bidding her farewell.

Home.

Strange, but Norworth no longer meant home to her. The thought of returning to that place and the lies it housed made her tremble with dread. And now the inevitable had come early. Had she really thought this moment would never arrive? Had she really expected that she'd never have to say good-bye to Gunnar?

How bold she'd been these past few days, inviting him into her arms--into her body--proclaiming that there be no talk of the past or regrets, talking instead of dreams and wishes and forever. How brave of her to say that in loving him she knew what she was asking for, that she was prepared for the consequences. How naive she was to think she could go on unchanged after knowing the pleasures of his body entwined with hers.

She realized now that she had actually convinced herself she could deny her past, forget it even existed. But being with Gunnar had made her believe many things.

Even that he loved her.

She clung to that faith as she blotted away her tears, trying to convince herself that the ache in her heart would not be a lasting one. He had promised her nothing, gave her no firm hope that he would come for her once his conflict with her father was resolved. Still, she prayed he would.

In her mind she envisioned a scenario where Gunnar and her father met and talked out their differences, where the two of them rode back to Norworth in peace if not friendship, and where she and Gunnar were reunited, never to part again. Gunnar had warned her about dreaming and wishing, but her foolish heart refused to listen...even now.

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