Seducing Anne (31 page)

They’d cut it shorter, up to her shoulders, but he couldn’t allow her to color it differently after all. This was her. This was the woman he loved.

His hair had been lightened significantly, though, and he wore a goatee. She adored it—had her hands on his face all the time.

“Oh come now. Tell me what has you in this state,” he urged. She was tight-lipped, though smiling. And those delicate rosebud lips were begging to be nibbled and kissed. “Did you discover my newest piece I made for you? I really ought to sell it. We could use a little more on-hand cash, but I couldn’t bear to part with it. Not when it reminded me so strongly of you.” His finger circled down to her chin. He hooked his index finger under it to brace his hand and tickled between her bottom lip—she was presently biting inside—and the tip of her chin. “So soft here. Like the petal of a rose.”

She cleared her throat and gave him a thoughtful look, her brow smooth and her eyes bright. “I read a passage I wanted to share with you. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Please do.” He pulled her up onto his lap.

She propped the book open on her thighs. “I love the way this sounds.” She cleared her throat once more and gave him a furtive glance. He pinched her thigh and kissed her temple. She smiled. “This is Psalms chapter fifty-five, verses sixteen through twenty-two.” Her voice went higher pitched, almost sounding like a song. “Let death seize upon them, and let them go down quick into hell: for wickedness is in their dwellings, and among them. As for me, I will call upon God; and the Lord shall save me. Evening, and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and he shall hear my voice. He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me: for there were many with me. God shall hear, and afflict them, even he that abideth of old. Selah. Because they have no changes, therefore they fear not God. He hath put forth his hands against such as be at peace with him: he hath broken his covenant. The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart: his words were softer than oil, yet were they drawn swords. Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.” She exhaled, and her shoulders dropped a few inches.

He smiled even wider and nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I would very much like to hear your interpretation of this passage. What does it mean to you?”

She turned toward him, kissed the corner of his mouth and with slight brushes, stroked her fingers through his beard and played in it. “This is me. This speaks of me. I prayed daily, several times a day, and prayed for enlightenment and for the corruptions to cease in the church.” Her eyes wandered over his face, and she wore a look of reverence and devotion. “I was so consumed by wanting to fix these problems that I did not see who Harry truly was. He was deceiving me, masking his lusts with talk of God and a future he did not truly want me to have at his side.” She shook her head and dropped it a little, but her eyes remained fixed on his. “God called upon you to deliver my soul from the hell that Harry would have brought me to. He was a wicked man, and I was trapped in his snare. God heard my cries and knew the intents of my heart. He needed you to be his instrument.” One of her hands caressed her belly. “The king’s words were smoother than butter, slicker than oil, and it was palatable to me, so I devoured it, seeing only the hope of being a participant in the betterment of the kingdom. You drew your sword and struck him down, even if it was in the form of allowing him to knock you off your horse.”

He grinned. “I like your way of thinking, but we all have a little wickedness in us, do we not?” He cupped her cheeks. “Well—all except you, perfect lady.”

She chuckled. “I am as flawed as any, but it is the wishes of our hearts, and yours is good.” Her hand fell off his jaw and landed over his heart. She pressed her palm there. “This here—is innately good. And I give up any kingdom to hold it here in my hands.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she choked on the emotions in her words.

“Oh, sweetheart. I did not think it possible to love you any more than I already do, but you find a way to surpass your previous sweetness and lure me in even deeper. I am so transfixed by you, I hardly know who I am anymore.” He placed her on her feet, kissed her and went after the newest set he had made her.

When he returned into the room, she was kneeling next to his seat again, her head bowed, her hands clasped together as if in supplication, and she muttered something beneath her breath.

Was she praying once more?

Truly, this woman was as devout as anyone could be.

In this instance, it would serve his purpose well.

He stepped behind her. “Hold your hair up off your neck. You will wear this tonight to Mass, along with some fresh flowers in your hair.” He stooped over, kissed the nape of her neck and placed her new collar around her neck. “If you will accept this as your collar, it will mean you are eternally mine. We will have a civil marriage soon, under our aliases, but this will be more binding, since it is between Sir and his girl.”

Her fingers drifted over the stones. “Can I remove it so I can see it?”

“I haven’t clasped it yet for that purpose. I only wanted you to feel the weight of it for a moment and see if you like the length.”

“It has me breathless already,” she said.

He removed it and placed it in her outstretched hands, staring at the piece over her shoulder. “There are matching earrings, too, that you can wear to church.”

For probably the first time ever, she lost her royal poise. She sagged around it, almost in a protective shell.

“This is exquisite. It is for me?”

“It is for you and no other. It is my heart melded into metal, shined to match your spirit and forged with the will of our new destiny together.” He smiled as his vision blurred with watery eyes.

She fingered the amethyst in the middle. “Lavender,” she whispered.

“My little lavender—always mine—and no other’s.” He kissed the side of her crown through her hair.

“I accept it, sir.”

“This makes me your Master now.” They had discussions between many of their religious ones, about what it would truly mean this time when he collared her.

In her world, it had been more of a symbolic gesture. Here, it meant she was his submissive, and his lady to forever worship and protect.

It meant she would follow him and obey his word, as long as they were in agreement in how they wanted to govern their relationship.

“It makes you my
official
Master—but you must know—you were already
that
the moment I saw you.” She scooted and turned herself around on her knees. He continued to squat before her. “I asked you for your help, because the second you came bursting into Carew’s door, this spark flew down my spine, and it spilled over into my heart, making it clench. My body did not respond that way to anyone, and I was aware then . . .”

“Of what?” He swallowed back the wave of emotions threatening to break forth into tears.

“Aware I had met my soul mate. The Heavens had granted me what I never knew I was really praying for—my own form of salvation and redemption.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his words barely strangling out of him.

She returned the sentiment and collapsed into his arms.

They made love for the rest of the evening and did not make it to Mass.

She had already made her confessions to him.
Her
Master.

Chapter 16

Guy patted her belly and kissed it. “I hope it is a boy—just to torture Henry, even if he will not be here to see it.” He chuckled into her bare navel.

“I do, too. It would be my greatest honor to bear you a son.” She smiled down at him, her head propped up on two pillows.

It was unspoken, but conveyed through glances—if they had a boy, this baby would be safer. The agency would not bother to try and take the child if she did not bear forth Elizabeth.

Besides, he had been reckless during their sexual encounters. He had never timed it carefully to increase the odds of having a female-gendered baby. His focus was more on attaining Anne and burning away his all-consuming need to be with her, inside her and in her head and heart.

So it was possible this could be a boy inside her womb.

“You are out of the dangerous period now. Three months gone. I want us to see a midwife in the next few weeks here and have a sonogram to make sure the baby is forming appropriately.” He still worried the effects of time travel might have damaged the baby’s development somehow. He was torn on if he wanted to know the sex of the fetus as well, but he would deal with that when he was faced with it.

“We already break rules by having sexual relations while I am with child.”

He nipped at her lower abs, then stroked her inner thigh. “I keep telling you—those were men’s rules back in your day that never had any real merit. It is perfectly healthy to have sex—and
lots
of it—while pregnant. It is good for both of us.”

“I do admit, I am very amorous all the time, and moist for you more often than not.” She wore a mischievous grin.

“Yes. You’ve had the bad habit lately of trying to initiate lovemaking, even when you know that is my role—not yours.” He turned his head and snorted. “As if I would ever deny you sex. Have you gone one day without it ever since the traveling sickness has dissipated?”

“No. We warm the bed more than once a day,” she said, flushing at her throat and naked breasts.

“Damn right we do. I think I might increase it now that I know you are a robust lady and want it as much as I do.” His dick hardened at the thought of having her more than twice a day. Doubling it might be nice.

“We do have to go to excesses right now, since the baby is due right around Lent.”

“And I give a fuck about Lent in regard to my love life because . . . ?” He gave her the eyebrow.

“Because it is forbidden to have relations during Lent,” she said with a huff, rolling her eyes.

He smacked her thigh.

She gripped her collar.

“Another superstitious, silly rule. Lent does not mean sex stops happening. It’s not decreed in the Bible and no one observes a rule like that. Besides, it would just about kill both of us. You’ll have three weeks to heal after the birth of the baby, and then you’re mine again. You’ll be back in my bed, spread out and juicy—just the way I love you.”

She squirmed, and her eyes grew hungry. “It is supposed to be several weeks before intercourse can resume.”

He pointed to his growing stack of books. “Who has been researching pregnancy and childbirth like mad?”

She pointed at him. “You, Master.”

“Precisely. Most women’s tissues are healed within three weeks’ time if there are no extensive tears to the perineum. I know how to ease the baby’s head out. We’ll be well-prepared for the birth when the time comes. I’ll be there to catch the baby, and you’ll be far more comfortable here at home than you would’ve been back in Henry’s court, being forced into confinement for two months before the baby’s arrival. No woman wants to be shut up in a dark room for weeks on end. How is that good for anyone?”

She nodded.

“Okay—today I have to stop in at the jeweler’s for a few more tools, and he wants to talk to me about some possible new pieces he wants me to create. I’ve got a new setting I want to piece together of my own and then sell online. I think I can fetch a really good price on this one.” He kissed her belly once more, got up and dressed.

“And what do you want
me
to do, Master?” She stayed in bed, all spread out, luscious, pink and bare.

“Whatever you like. You’ve had this place spotless lately, and your energy’s been good. Feel free to go visit the hot springs again if you want. It’s supposed to be a nice day today.” Fall was making an early appearance, and they had been experiencing temperatures lately around seventy-six degrees as their high.

“I think I will,” she said, flashing a toothy grin at him.

“Wear shorts this time—not a skirt. I don’t like it when you’re upset about ruining your delicate dresses.”

She frowned. “It is obscene to bear ones legs in public like that.”

He laughed with a bursting snort. The shorts he’d purchased for her were really more like Capri's, down past her knees, so she wasn’t wearing scandalously cheeky shorts meant to drive men wild.

“Not here it isn’t.” He chuckled as her frown deepened.

“Master, please . . . I am very uncomfortable in those shorts you tell me to wear when I go to the springs.”

“Fine. Wear a skirt, but at least wear a loose one so you can pull the folds up better.”

She sighed like he had just made her entire world spin the correct way again.

“I’ll see you around lunch time, sweetheart. Behave.” He gave her a mock eyebrow lift.

She stroked his beard, kissed him once more and waved goodbye.

* * *

It took hours of haggling to get the deal Guy wanted.

The jeweler commissioned six new pieces, but wanted to stiff Guy for his work.

Fuck—if he was going to make more complicated sets, he better be compensated accordingly. He wanted to give Anne more of the lifestyle she deserved and move them into a bigger place.