My Rebellious Heart (38 page)

Thorne's lip curled. "What! Do you mean to say she knew nothing of your masquerade?"

"Aye," Barris said heatedly. "No one but a few trusted friends and Prince Llywelyn were aware of my role, for my task was a dangerous one. 'Twas just as you said—to al ow Shana such knowledgt might have placed her life in jeopardy, and never

would I have taken such a risk! 1 love her too much to have ever gambled with her life."

Their eyes clashed wordlessly. Time spun out endlessly; the air was charged with a seething tension.

Thorne had expected him to rally to Shana's defense; what he had not expected was to believe him, yet in that shattering instant, he knew ... Barris did not lie. Nay, he could not reject Harris's fiery claim that Shana was innocent of any deceit; she had not known he was the Dragon. Thorne's mouth twisted. Barris's declaration was all he wanted to hear—all he needed to hear. So why was he not relieved? And what was this tangled skein of feeling that seized his heart like a clamp? He spun around, then called for the jailer. Barris's voice stopped him in midstride. "Wait! 1 would know ... she is well?"

Thorne turned slowly, his hands clenched at his sides "You need not concern yourself with her well-being," he said sharply. "She is no longer your concern."

By the time Thorne emerged from the dungeon, he could delude himself no longer as to the emotion clawing at his gut—it was jealousy, sheer and simple. Though he despised himself thoroughly for al owing such petty weakness, he wondered bitterly how Shana would respond to his advances now that Barris had reappeared. Would she resist him again? Scorn him anew? He could not stand the thought. But while Barris might have her love, he knew his bewitching wife as no other man ever had, not even Barris. lie, not Barris, had claimed her innocence and branded it his own. And there was a primitive satisfaction in knowing he was the first man to lie with her, to stoke the dormant fires within her to raging flames

She belonged to him, he thought fiercely. And by God, she would know it!

Such was the bent of his mind as he climbed the tower stairs.

He entered the chamber just as Shana stepped into the bath. She sank quickly beneath the waters, darting a hasty glance over her shoulder. When she beheld him standing there in the entrance glowering at her, she averted her gaze and dragged her knees against her chest.

The door dosed. Along with his presence, an endless silence crept into the chamber, weighting the air with the heaviness of expectancy.

Thorne wordlessly crossed the room to stand directly behind her. His gaze, brooding and unflagging, rested upon the damsel who gave his heart no peace. Her hair was coiled into a knot on her crown, baring the fragile sweep of her nape, the slightness of her shoulders. Her gaze was fixed as if in fascination on the notched carving at the end of the wooden tub.

Thorne knew by the way she huddled in the water that she found his perusal thoroughly unnerving.

In truth, her nerves were stretched taut as a bowstring. She wished frantically she could see him, that she might gauge his mood. Yet she was scarcely relieved as he stepped to the side of the tub. Visibly nervous and praying it didn't show, her eyes climbed slowly to his.

Mercifully, no trace of his earlier anger dwel ed in his features Vet Shana was hardly relieved, for an aura of danger emanated from him. He towered over her, tall and somehow intimidating, yet he did no more than stare at her.

She moistened her lips, for her mouth was suddenly parchment dry. "Why do you look at me so?"

A faint smile dallied about his lips. "Princess," he stated smoothly, "I but admire what is mine."

An aching despair encircled her heart. Where was the gentle, tender lover she had come to know these past days? The cold-eyed knight before her was only too familiar. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the pain that stabbed at her. God! she thought brokenly. She had convinced herself they had come so far—that mayhap someday they could truly care for each other. But clearly nothing had changed She was naught but a possession to him, to be used as he pleased, neither loved nor cherished.

She opened her eyes to discover he had pushed up the sleeves of his tunic He reached for the soap and linen cloth she had placed within reach.

Shana's eyes flew wide. She made some faint,

choked sound.

"Oh, you need not thank me." That brash voice came from just behind her. "You bathed me when I was il , princess. I merely think it time 1 returned the favor."

He knelt. With long, deft strokes he soaped and rinsed the slender length of her back and shoulders. Shana froze, afraid to move, afraid to even breathe. His hands slid over the slope of her shoulder and around to the front. Very deliberately he slid her arms forward along the sides* of the tub Shana's pulse began to beat the ragged rhythm of a drum, for now the front of her body lay open to his touch.

Carelessly he tossed the cloth aside. From the corner of her eye Shana saw him liberally soaping his bare hands. She gasped aloud when lean, strong fingers glided up to shape the underside of her breasts; they seemed to tremble and swell. His mouth came down to nuzzle her nape, shockingly warm Over and over, with the tips of his fingers, he traced a tauntingly evocative circle around the cushioned fullness, coming close but never quite touching each throbbing summit.

His whisper, dark and husky, rushed past her ear. "You taunted me once that you could suffer my kiss only by pretending 1 was Barris. Tel me, princess, is it still true?"

Her breath tumbled out in a rush. "Nay/' she said faintly. " 'Twas never true."

Her head fel back against his shoulder. He had only to ease to the side a fraction and then his mouth was indeed on hers, exquisitely sweet and clinging. She felt bereft when he raised his head, for the kiss was but a taste of al she craved.

"That pleases me, sweet. That pleases me greatly. And yet I wonder ... when I caress you so, when I touch and taste you here,"—those devil fingers grazed the tips of her breasts, rousing her nipples to tingling erectness and wringing a moan from her—"do you close your eyes that you might see your beloved Barris?"

He gave her no chance to respond, but went on, the timbre of his voice low and rough. "I would know, princess. Is it Barris. you long for even as I lay buried deep inside you, so deep I can no more tel if the pounding rhythm that runs rampant through my blood is yours or mine?"

It was a stark, wanton whisper. Her heart plunged into a frenzy. She trembled to think of al the things they had done—that she had let him do! She had thought she loved Barris with al her being But never had she imagined Barris touching her as Thorne did even now ...

A lean hand coursed over the mounds of her breasts, the hol ow of her bel y, threading through the soft fleece that guarded her secret cleft. A trespassing finger delved deep along that place he had carved out as his own, a bold, intimate foray that robbed her of speech and turned her limbs to water. Desire heated her blood, flooding her senses, blurring her mind to al but the need to experience anew al he dared speak . to feel the

thundering pressure of his manhood imbedded ful and snug and tight within her.

"Tell me, sweet. Is it Barris you dream of? Barris you long for?"

His fingertips rested lightly on her breast. In that shattering instant, some painful y sweet emotion caughl at her breast. She felt as if he reached clear into her heart and she could not stand it. Only half aware that she moved, she twisted around and flung herself against him Her voice was muffled against his throat. "It's always been you," she cried shakily. "Only you, Thorne, never Barris, only you ..."

Her admission acted like a gate flung wide. He crushed her against him. His fingers tangled in her hair, bringing the bright gold mass cascading down around both of them. His mouth trapped hers, a kiss of binding urgency, unleashing a bursting inferno deep within her Shana tumbled headlong into a realm of feverish longing Water streamed from her body as he swung her from the tub. She shivered, though not from cold, as a linen towel skimmed the length of her body and back again. Then she was swept upward and borne to the bed.

Imprisoned deep in his gaze, she could not look away when he stepped back. She watched as he stripped impatiently, for God help her!—there was a wondrous pleasure to be had in watching his muscled hardness revealed to her. Her fingertips itched to explore the dark pelt on his chest and abdomen. His skin was golden, his muscles toned. Candlelight flickered over the sleek, spare lines of hit. back as he bent to pul off his hose. Her breath dammed in her throat when he turned to face her, dark and striking. He made no effort to hide the jutting proof of his arousal, proud and blatant and bold. Then he was beside her. Wordlessly he caught

her to him. A thril shot through her, for his devouring gaze left no part of her untouched.

Weaving his fingers through her hair, he brought her mouth to his. The contact was, searing.

Shana held back nothing, engaging his tongue in an unbridled duel fraught with eager demand. He buried his face between her breasts and caught one ripe, straining crown between his lips, tugging and teasing, first one and then the other until she moaned her delight. But he was not content to stop there. His lips blazed a path of scorching fire clear to her navel, across the hol ow of her bel y, clear to the golden-red down that shielded her womanhood.

Slowly he raised his head. Deep within the depths of fiercely glowing eyes was a fiery demand she did not whol y comprehend; yet she could no more deny it than she could deny the endless ache he roused in her.

His head lowered. His lips brushed the tender flesh of her inner thigh. Once. Twice. Again.

Time stood stil as he embarked on a daring, soul-shattering quest that took him straight to the very heat and heart of her, hidden deep within her golden fleece. Shana gasped in shock. Her hands caught at his shoulders, for never had she dreamed of such shameless intimacy ...

It was wondrous. Glorious beyond anything she had ever known. With torrid, lapping strokes of fire, he teased and tormented, darting ever closer to that place where the pulse of fire inside her beat strongest. And when at last it came, she spun high aloft into the heavens, mindless cries bursting from her throat, for never had she experienced such piercing rapture.

She drifted back slowly. Her eyes opened, smoky and dazed Thorne was on his knees before her, his manhood thick and rigid, still heavy and throbbing.

His head was pounding, his senses immersed in a crimson haze of passion. Surprise lit her eyes as he tugged her upright so that she was half sitting, half straddling his thighs. Her arms wound around his neck. He kissed her with ravenous hunger, final y tearing his mouth away with a muffled groan.

His eyes flicked open. His gaze sheared directly into hers, hot ana bril iant. "Wrap your legs around me," he instructed. His voice was low.

His hands slid around to cup her buttocks. He heard the deep, shuddering breath she drew.

He gritted his teeth, for now his shaft lay sweetly cradled against the furrowed cove of damp, feminine flesh.

"Our marriage has made us two unto one, princess. But I would know, sweet ... do you want me?"

She searched his face. The cords of his neck were taut, the muscles of his arms bulging and knotted. Her lips parted breathlessly "I ... yes," she whispered. "Yes!" Her nails dug into his shoulders, loving the feel of him "Thorne, please .. "

"Then take me unto you, sweet. lake me unto you ..." It was a heated, shattering whisper, one neither could ignore. He lifted her, gently guiding, bringing her down upon his pulsing shaft ... his sleek, swollen tip breached her velvet sheath.

His arms were bulging, the cords of his neck straining. "That's the way," he said thickly. 'Take al of me, all of me ... oh, Christ!" He groaned, and then he was stretching, straining, driving, so deep he fil ed the very center of her heart.

She began to pant and churn and undulate wildly, clinging tight to his shoulders, seeking tn tel him with hands and lips and body all that feeble words could not . . The tide of emotion surged inside her, unbearably sweet. Deep in her

heart she knew it never would have been like this with Barris—never! Scaling pleasure spiraled her higher, ever higher, to that pinnacle of rapture. Against her closed eyelids, the night shimmered— moondust and magic, glitter and gold, sparkle and sunlight.

Her convulsive spasms but fueled his own. Small hands slipped to ride his frantically plunging hips. He tried to hold back, but there was no hope for it. A ragged groan tore from deep in his throat. He cast back his head and gave in to the gripping desire pouring through his veins. He plunged hotly. Wildly. Desperately, his control all but lost. One last explosive lunge and his seed burst scalding and hot deep within her womb.

They col apsed, limbs entwined, cocooned by the wild tangle of her hair. In sheer, utter exhaustion, they slept.

rude hand jarred Shana awake in the morning. From beneath the rumpled covers she mumbled a sleepy protest and turned to escape. It seemed she had barely closed her eyes, for it was near dawn before Thorne had al owed her to sleep. Stil that demanding touch persisted. Bleary-eyed and wearied, she pushed herself up on an elbow to face her tormentor.

He towered at the bedside. That devil's smile held no warmth nor did the stroke of his eyes along her bare shoulders. Although Thorne had slept no more than she, he was ful y dressed. His chiseled features bore no trace of the dark tempest of passion that erupted between them throughout the night. Indeed, an air of knife-edged sharpness clung to him.

He sat beside her, the cal oused tip of his finger trailing the length of her collarbone. He raised a roguish brow as he beheld her baleful regard.