Princess in a Strange New Land (5 page)

“Yes, Lady Leake,” one man said, his teeth flashing with a crude grin.

“Well, then,” Georgina said, lifting her skirts with a smug smirk and turning away. “I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

The two men advanced slowly as Georgina walked away. But Akna had no time to shoot a glare at Georgina’s retreating back; instead, she found herself being slowly corralled by the two thugs. She backed away, curving back toward the garden path but never letting them out of her sight.

“Come now, my dear,” one man coaxed. “This needn’t be unpleasant. We’re only curious after all.”

“Curious men ask questions,” Akna retorted, still trying to edge her way back to the castle.

“Our questions cannot be answered with words,” the other man cooed. “Only with touch.”

“I do not like to be touched.”

The men chuckled, and Akna knew that she had to flee. These men had no intention of giving her a choice. Their long legs brought them even nearer, and her heart began to thud in her chest. They licked their lips like hungry dogs, their hands reaching for her with curved fingers. She tensed, preparing to bolt.

And then suddenly there was a rush of wind as a body flew past her. Her field of vision was suddenly filled with the sight of a broad back, muscular shoulders shielding her from view.

“Scoundrels!” the man cried. “How dare you accost a lady!”

“A savage colonial wench, you mean to say!” spat one of her would-be attackers even as he retreated ten paces. “What is it to you?”

The man straightened to his full height, and Akna felt something hot and admiring surge through her chest.

“I am Sir John Frederick,” her saviour announced confidently. “Representative of the king and host to this delegation of Inuit people. Not to mention a baronet and a captain of the Royal Navy.” He paused. “And who are you?”

Peering around John’s arm, Akna saw the other men pale. They shuffled further away, casting looks around.

“No one, no one,” one man said contritely. “Please excuse us, my lord.”

And under John’s imperious glare, the two men skulked back toward the castle. As soon as they were out of sight, John spun about and pulled Akna into his warm chest, his chin over her shoulder.

“Are you all right, my dear?” he asked, genuine concern filling his deep voice. “Did they hurt you? Touch you?”

“No,” she answered, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “You arrived just in time.”

“Thank the heavens!” John exclaimed, pulling back to search her face. “The stable boys found me searching the corridors for you. They warned me something of ill nature might be afoot.”

His grip tightened on her shoulders, and his gaze grew severe.

“Why didn’t you wait for me in your chambers as we had agreed?”

“I was bored,” Akna said, pulling away and feigning indifference. “You are not my keeper.”

“On the contrary,” John said, pulling her close once more. “You forget that I was appointed to be your host and guide during your stay here. If anything untoward had happened to you…”

His voice trailed off, and he shuddered ever so slightly as he held her. Akna let herself lean into his warmth. She felt his heart thudding in his chest along with his panting breaths. The man was clearly worried for her safety and dignity. She leaned back, her eyes finding his.

“I am all right, John,” she said, her tone reassuring. “Thank you.”

For a moment he seemed gratified—and then anger sparked anew in his eyes.

“Those men,” he growled, straightening. “When I find them—”

Akna placed a hand on his arm.

“No, John,” she said softly. “I’ve no desire to dwell on what happened. Shall we do something else? What had you planned for this morning?”

John inhaled deeply and forced thoughts of revenge from his mind. Instead, he turned warm eyes to his waiting charge. Indeed, there were far better things to attend to at the moment; vengeance could wait.

“A morning ride,” he told Akna with a devilish grin.

“A what?”

“My horse!” John called out suddenly to the stable hands, who were trotting back. “Ready my horse, boys!”

“Oh, so that is your horse?” Akna asked, glancing at the magnificent creature she had been so entranced by only moments before.

“One of many—but he is my finest stallion,” John said with a nod. “I promise you a morning of fine adventure.”

Curious, Akna watched as the stable hands carefully fitted the steed with a bridle and saddle. The majestic creature tossed its head expectantly as it was led back to them.

“Easy now.” John spoke in low tones to his animal as the boy handed him the reins. He turned to Akna. “Side-saddle, my lady?”

“Pardon me?”

“Would you like to ride side-saddle as the ladies do? It is easier.”

“How do men ride?”

“Like this,” John said as he expertly boosted himself into the saddle.

Akna had to shield her eyes as she looked up to see John towering over her. He sat regally in his saddle, his deft fingers loosely holding the reins. The sun shone gold in his hair, and his eyes twinkled mischievously in the light. Akna snorted.

“We Inuit women can do whatever you English men can do,” she said, tossing her chin defiantly.

“As you wish,” John said with a sly smile. “Help her up,” he instructed the young lad attending them.

With John’s hand gripping her forearm and the stable boy giving her a lift, Akna awkwardly swung herself into the saddle in front of John—and she immediately understood his mischief. So seated, she had to grip the pommel of the saddle to stay on, and the curved saddle made her slide back into his chest, where she found her bottom flush against his groin. He snaked an arm around her waist to anchor her firmly against his chest, and she felt every muscle of his thighs contracting against hers. There was a low chuckle at her ear.

“Please remember that this position was your choice, my lady,” John whispered as she gave a shiver.

Then, with a swift kick, they were off. Akna stifled a gasp as their great mount surged forward with a whinny, galloping across the fields. The sudden upward jolt startled Akna, but not as much as the feel of John’s hand slipping below her thighs to lift her. But before she could protest, John’s lips were at her ear.

“Clench your thighs around the horse,” he instructed, holding her fast. “And lift yourself so that it does not jar you every time he rises. I will help you.”

Akna did as she was told and found that the ride was smoother. Slowly, she began to become aware of the gorgeous scenery flying by. She also began to appreciate what John loved about riding—the feeling of the wind in her face, the light smell of polished leather and the pounding hooves of the horse beneath them. It filled her with a sense of joy to be atop such a powerful beast.

As they crested a hilly rise, John slowed his steed and gently lowered Akna back into the saddle. With each step, he felt her pert bottom rubbing between his thighs—and it was sweet agony. Glancing down, he imagined her poised in such a position but free of her dress, her bare bottom grinding against his hips. He would grip those hips and push her down until he could thrust himself deep within her waiting wetness. He would make her scream in ecstasy. He grunted. Soon he would not be able to hide his growing hardness.

“What is that?” Akna asked, interrupting his steamy reverie.

John glanced to where she was pointing.

“That is the king’s maze,” John answered. “They are bushes that have been grown and trimmed to form a labyrinth. They say that the most lovely rose garden hides at its centre.”

“How fascinating,” Akna mused.

A plan began to form in John’s mind. He turned the horse toward the garden, easing them into a leisurely trot.

“Would you like to try it?” John asked. “I have never been to the centre myself.”

“Yes!” Akna agreed enthusiastically. “Such a thing I have never seen before!”

When they reached the entrance to the leafy maze, John slipped from the saddle and tied the reins of his horse to a tree before helping Akna down. Akna immediately gravitated toward the hedges, her hands wonderingly hovering over their flat planes.

“How strange,” she murmured.

“The gardeners trim the hedges almost every week,” John noted. “Shall we enter?”

Akna absentmindedly took his offered hand as he led her into the maze. And soon they were hopelessly lost within the hedges. Akna giggled as John pulled her around corner after corner. Their play was punctuated by lingering touches and slow, sensual smiles. Akna alternated between skipping ahead and tugging John along. They were completely surrounded by green walls and manicured grass, and the adventure of the maze had made them giddy with childlike excitement. That is, until they disagreed upon which turn to take and began to laugh, pulling at each other’s hands in a playful tug of war. With a smirk, John suddenly let go, and they tumbled backward into the soft grass with Akna on her back and John cradling her from above.

“You said something about unfinished business?” Akna purred with a grin.

In a heartbeat John’s mouth was on hers, stifling her giggles with his lips. As his fingers began to trail up one of her creamy legs, her giggles turned to soft moans of encouragement. He knelt over her as he ravished her mouth, inhaling nothing but the sweet scent of her skin and the earth. Akna tugged impatiently at his jacket collar, and he shed the garment without hesitation, tossing it over his shoulder after pulling it away. But when he returned for another kiss, Akna pushed him away with a grin, her eyes flicking to his buttoned shirt.

“Do it yourself,” he challenged.

Sitting up, Akna pulled at the strange little buttons until she grew so frustrated that she simply ripped the shirt open. And then her cool hands were on his hot chest, searching out the hardened planes as his muscles rippled with his every panted breath. Akna shifted so that she straddled his knees, her arms twining around his neck as they continued to kiss passionately. As for John, his hands were not idle. He slipped his fingers under the hem of her sealskin shift, pushing the lush material up over her hips. She gasped as he grabbed the swell of her bottom, pulling her centre closer to his.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured between kisses. “No underclothes.”

“They seemed unnecessary,” she gasped as he kneaded her flesh.

Her fingers blindly searching, she helped him to shed his jacket and shirt and then proceeded to tug at the buttons of his trousers. He dipped his lips to her neck, relishing the arch of her back as he scraped his teeth across her collarbone. He groaned as she finally tugged his engorged member free.

“You’re an insatiable animal,” he grunted as she slid her fingers over his velvety shaft.

“I’m a savage, after all,” she answered with a firm tug.

He could hear the laughter in her voice, and his breath hitched in his throat. She was far too much in control, and she would send him over the brink before he even had a chance to explore her wondrous body.
No
, he told himself sternly. He would not let her have all the fun to herself. He tensed, preparing to flip her onto her back and take control once more—but then she suddenly stopped.

“Just
what
is that smell?” Akna asked, pulling away.

“What?”

John cursed her inwardly, wondering at the depths of her cruelty. Surely she would not abandon him in that moment of need; surely it was a jest, a trick.

“That smell.”

She stood and took a few small steps toward a gap in the hedges. Her sealskin dress fell back over her hips. John cursed aloud and rose to follow.

“You are too cruel—”

But then he stopped, for he smelled it, too. It was an intoxicating scent, rich and full of floral headiness. They stepped around the corner and were greeted by the most magical sight they had ever seen. Of course, he thought. It was the scent of roses, hundreds upon hundreds of roses. He glanced down at Akna’s awed expression, his ardour returning with renewed force.

They had found the secret rose garden—and it was the perfect place for him to shower his sensual affections about this wild woman.

In a move that made her gasp with delight, John swept Akna off her feet and carried her through the paths of the rose garden, under hanging boughs and around towering bushes. At the centre of the garden was a small gazebo, where he finally let her down, his hands gliding along her curves as he did. Without speaking a word, John drew her dress over her lithe body, pulling it effortlessly over her head and dropping it to the ground. With the barest of caresses, he swept her up once more and carried her across the gazebo to one of the low benches. Trailing his fingertips over her plump lips to stifle any objections, he gently laid her out on the bench, arranging her limbs carefully as if she were an exquisite dish to be tasted. He knelt by the bench and leaned over her.

“Now,” he whispered as he kissed her eyelids, “close your eyes, and let me be the explorer.”

To his surprise, she obeyed.

“Don’t move,” he told her as he traced the lines of her face with his calloused fingertips.

She nodded, shivering.

John began to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck while he let his fingers trail along the lines of her body. He left no inch of flesh untouched, tasting and touching her unhurriedly. He began to stoke her internal fires with his tongue as he sucked gently on each of her fingertips while flicking her erect nipples gently. Then he laved her breasts with kisses, drawing the taut bead at the centre into his mouth with his questing tongue. When he tugged at it with his teeth, she arched up with a loud cry of delight and surprise.

“You are so beautiful,” John murmured, his fingers trailing paths of fire down her body. He gradually moved down the length of the bench, worshipping her body with his tongue, lips and teeth as he did. When he reached the other end of the bench, he gripped the underside of one of her thighs with his rough fingers and hooked her knee over one of his shoulders. He began by kissing her ankle, his lips moving over her shapely calf to the back of her knee. He pressed hot kisses up the length of her upper thigh. Akna began to tremble. With one hand, John gripped her hip, and with the other, he began to massage the apex of her thighs. He first pressed one digit to her moist warmth, slowly pushing in as she arched up once again with a heady moan. His breathing grew heavy as her scent filled his senses, and when he pulled his finger away it was slick with her desire. With a twist of his hand, he pushed two digits into her heat, withdrawing and thrusting in a rhythm that made her buck wildly under his ministrations. Spurred on, he pressed his thumb over the pearl of her sex and began to rub in sensual circles as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of her.