Rose (31 page)

He took her behind the falls, to a shaded rock ledge. He set her down on the smooth, nature-formed bench, and she cradled his hips as he stood between her legs. Her dress, bunched now to her waist, was in the way, and she tried to pull it off. Dominus would not release her shoulder. Instead, he brought her closer, pinning her arm to the side. “I have waited for you,” he said, “for so long.”

“What do you mean?”

The fringe of his hair curled above his brows, his nose prominent on his wet face. His eyes blazed. “Every man that you flirted with, that you smiled at—I wanted to throw them to the Turks.” His hand caressed her cheek.

Mamie's body burned with longing. “I did not know.” She burrowed into his touch. “Kiss me,” she said, lifting her chin.

He bent, conquering her lips with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. Mamie's breasts were heavy with passion, and she thrust her chest forward. “Take off this cursed dress, would you?”

The fury in his eyes abated, and he helped her slip the gown over her head. He tossed the fabric in a puddle.

“There is only you,” she promised. Her nipples beneath the wet, sheer chemise had tightened and Dominus's gaze widened with hunger. “You, Dominus, and me.”

He leaned down, suckling her breast through the fabric. Mamie could not help the moan that escaped her lips. His hands gripped her knees, circling their way toward the juncture of her thighs. She was on fire, and if he did not touch her soon—

Ah
. She jumped, trembled. His fingers slid along her curls, pressing against her inner folds. He paused at the place that hummed with desire, hovering, waiting.

“You are ready for me?”

“I have been ready,” she whispered.

He flicked his fingers lightly against her, and she trembled with anticipation. Entwining her hands around the back of his neck, she nibbled at his lower lip. She scooted to the edge of the bench and reached down for Dominus. She had to touch, had to feel him for herself.

His breeches, soaked cloth meant to shield his manhood, were as problematic as her gown had been. “I need my knife,” she said, determined to get them off.

“Wait,” he said, sliding them down his hips and throwing them toward her gown.

His lower body, mostly hidden by water, met hers at the edge of the bench. Mamie knew that she would never feel this alive again. The water splashed, the waves caressed, the air brushed their naked skin. His strong shaft lifted, and she moved forward until his cock touched her welcoming entrance. He held back.

She met his gaze, her entire body pulsing with need. He waited, nudging her with the tip of his manhood, teasing her until tears of yearning slipped from her eyes. “Dominus,” she said, “please.”

With one powerful stroke he slid inside her, and it was as if he had been created especially for her. Every feeling multiplied, her insides alight with pleasure she'd never known—and she had experienced her share.

He rocked forward, drew back, and moved inside her again. She grasped his shoulders, hanging on for her life, though if she had died at that moment, it would have been heaven.

Faster, he pumped, harder. He buried his shout in the fall of her hair at her shoulder. She trembled around him, holding him close. Not wanting to ever let him go. And just how was she supposed to keep her heart undamaged by something as powerful as this?

He shivered in her arms, and she kissed his forehead. “You are cold, Dominus. Let us get into the sun.”

“I do not want to leave you.”

She laughed. “Then walk with me through the water. We will clean one another and then get out and dry.”

Dominus had never felt so close to another human being. A woman. He cupped her head in one hand and brought her
mouth to his. Her lips, pliant and soft, met his in a passionate kiss.

“I have never had a woman want to cut my breeches off before.”

She traced his nipple with a feathery light touch, her head against his shoulder. “I have never been so impatient that I wanted to do so. You made me feel, well, like I was flying. Soaring, Dominus, above the clouds.”

He held her close, her legs wrapped around his hips as he walked them through the waterfall. Mamie sputtered water, her curly hair falling down straight. Her eyes, surrounded by spiky copper lashes, glistened. He saw love in them and wondered at how that could be.

She was a lady, a woman of the world, a member of the queen's guard. How could she ever love someone like him?

Laughing, she pushed at his chest until he released her, and she grabbed his arm until she found her balance.

“This way,” she said, her long hair trailing behind her.

He went back beneath the falls for their clothes. “We might need these again,” he said.

“I brought dry things. Lady Hortencia warned me from the start that people tend to get in the water around here.”

Dominus followed Mamie, delectable and naked and wet, to the bank.

“You first,” she said, eyeing his backside.

“I have never had so much fun while making love,” he said, pulling himself up with his arms, then twisting around to sit on the edge.

“It seems that we will have many firsts between us.” She held out her hand, and he lifted her up the side of the bank.

Comfortable in her nudity, Mamie brushed the grass from her knees and walked to the bag he'd brought over earlier. Following her example, he went to the rolled blanket and whipped it out flat along the grass. The area was like a small tent framed with laurel trees, tall enough to stand in, stretch up, and touch the branches.

She knelt on the blanket, getting cups and a flagon from the bag. Cheese, bread, olives, and wine.

“What more can a man ask for?” he said, spreading his arms wide as he knelt opposite her on the blanket. He tried not to stare, but his gaze was drawn to Mamie's beautiful body, pale and lightly dusted from head to toe in golden freckles. When she leaned forward, she did not seem to mind that her breasts brushed the goblet.

He did not mind at all. He drained his cup and asked for another.

Her long, slender legs tucked beneath her. Her trim torso and full chest met well-defined arms and strong shoulders. Her hair, damp and loose, fell to the blanket in curls. The drier her hair got, the tighter the coil.

He looked at her face and caught her knowing smile. She shrugged. “I have been looking at you too,” she admitted with a laugh. “What happened there?” Mamie leaned across the blanket to kiss the old break on his nose. “Drunken brawl?”

“Nothing so glorious,” he said, feeling his shoulders tighten. “My father tried to convince me not to leave home.”

She sat back on her heels, as comfortable as if she wore the finest gown. “Not the way to go about it.”

“I left anyway.”

“I am sorry,” she said.

There was something that happened between lovers that enabled
them to feel more than what was said. He knew he was open to her, but instead of closing up like a sea creature poked with a stick, he willed himself still.

She reached across the blanket to examine him, her fingers soft as she caressed the ridge. It was not the long-ago broken bone but the action behind it that left a lingering ache. Mamie seemed to understand that, and her caress relieved the sting. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“A boy on the verge of manhood.” She laughed softly. “How brave to stand up for yourself so young.”

“It was that or die.”

“Does any of this have to do with Meggie?”

He closed his eyes, pushing his fists onto his knees. Meggie was another kettle of fish.

“Sh,” she said, suddenly at his side. Her bare skin touched his, firing his blood. She traced her fingers up one of his thighs.

He opened his eyes. “Meggie is a girl from the village that one of my brothers married. At least he married her. She was a smart one, pretty. Wouldn't give more than a kiss without a promise. . . My brothers are all dead now.”

“What happened?”

“The plague came, off the ocean breeze. Instead of succoring my family, as it has done for centuries, it killed them. My father, my brothers, their women. Dead. Leaving their children behind. Meggie survived because she was visiting her mother at a neighboring village.”

“Dominus,” she said, pain strident in her tones, “
all
of them?”

“Seven brothers, five women. God only knows how many children taken.”

She pulled back but kept her hand on his thigh. Her face was pale with emotion, as if she had a personal stake in his tale. “And Meggie is the one to care for the children that remain?”

“While I do the bishop's bidding.” His voice sounded sour, and he shook his head, wanting only honesty between them here.

“My family owed him a very great debt, and he is forgiving
the loan in return for my year of service. I accepted, gladly, never
knowing how I would love you—from afar. I tried, Mamie. To keep my distance.” His eyes burned. “But I wanted you. You
touched my heart. I am not like my father. My brothers. I wanted
a woman to be my mate, and I found her in you. And when I thought you would jump to your death? God.” He pounded his chest, then covered her trembling fingers with his palm.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. Bright green, wet with compassion.

“I had to break the rules and go to you.”

“I would not have jumped. Well, perhaps not. I was so angry
at Sarah, and she was dead. There was nothing I could do! I know she did not want to be a mother, but I . . .” She rocked backward, away from him, as if ashamed. Mamie pressed her hand to her mouth and tears sped from her eyes. “I am barren,” she said in a gritty voice. “Worthless woman, according to your church.”

“Not mine!” He held his hands up. “I am playing a part, and while I agree with much of what the Templars do, I cannot espouse a hatred—or disrespect—for what women mean to our society.” He pulled her to him, disliking the inches apart. “I am not a Templar. I am a man. And I happen to love you, with all of my misguided heart.”

If he expected tears of gratitude for his declaration, he was to be disappointed.

“Love?” She jumped to her feet, her hips cradling copper curls at eye level. “Nobody said anything about love. You mistake passion and lust for a deeper emotion.”

He felt passion and lust, but he knew the difference. Dominus sensed Mamie was not ready to hear the truth. His body leaped to attention, and he grabbed her by the thigh, bringing his temptation closer to his mouth. “We have spent enough time talking.” He blew against the curls, and she shivered, dropping back to her knees. Her eyes glazed over, and he kissed her until she forgot all about love.

His Mamie preferred less talk and more touching. A lesson to remember.

Later, he cradled her head against his arm as tendrils of sun penetrated the laurel trees.

“You are an amazing woman,” he said, kissing the top of her head. He put one hand on her flat belly. “You feel unworthy, and I challenge you to think differently. The men you've married . . . fourteen?”

She laughed and placed a hand over his. “Three.”

“They should have cared for you better.” He waited to see how she took his pronouncement and then continued when she didn't argue. “You are vibrant and colorful and passionate. A rare bird, perhaps. You deserve more than to be weighed down by children. You fly free instead of tethered, as most women do.”

She pushed his hand away, her hair smacking his face as she sat up quickly. “Why do you speak that way?”

“It is the truth.” He realized something had shifted between them but did not understand what went wrong. Dominus also sat up, reaching for her, but she pulled back. “You belong in Eleanor's court, living each day to the fullest. It has been difficult, this journey, but once it is over, you will have your luxuries again. Velvets and jewels.” Things he did not have to offer, despite his title. He loved her but knew he could not keep her. “Once we reach Jerusalem, everyone will be happy.”

She pushed his shoulder, her mouth white. “You are an idiot.
Eleanor is not happy. Going to Jerusalem will not make her happy. You have to go. You are sworn to the bishop! I will stay with Eleanor, wherever she is.”

“What does that mean?” Dominus, in a kneeling position, leaned back on his calves.

Mamie clamped her lips together, got to her feet, and walked to her bag. She pulled out a dry gown and slipped it over her head. “We have to leave.”

“I know you love me,” Dominus shouted.

Mamie shook her head. “Love means nothing in the face of duty.”

“How can you say that?”

“You cannot deny it, Dominus. You have spent the last year pretending to be someone you are not, all for duty. You do not speak of your family with love. You do not cherish them. You resent them.”

Stunned at her accusation, he tried to defend himself, but the words wouldn't come.

Mamie packed up their things, tossing a dry brown robe his way. “You might want to wait until we cross to put it on.”

She held her gown at her waist and stepped into the icy water
without a backward glance.

Done. He'd had his chance to win her heart, and instead
he'd made her mad. Not just mad—offended. How? He'd honored
her freedom, letting her know he would never tether her or tie her down.

“What of Eleanor?” he asked, splashing into the cold water. His teeth chattered. She moved smoothly across the stream and pulled herself up the other side, demurely covering her body with her gown.

“Eleanor is mine to protect.”

It took a moment to pull his heart from his head and focus on what Mamie said and not on her walking away as if he were a discarded lover. “If she does not go to Jerusalem with the king, everything will be for naught!”