Page 36 of Bold Angel
As the daughter of a Saxon lord, the duty might have often been assigned her. Usually she was nowhere near.
“No, my lord.” Her eyes ran over his body, magnificent in every detail and beautifully proportioned, from the astonishing width of his shoulders to his deep solid chest to the flat-muscled ridges of his belly. As her glance moved lower, she saw another ridge of muscle, this one jutting forward, straining against his chausses. Caryn gasped before she could stop herself.
“Fetch the soap,” Ral said gruffly, relenting to her embarrassment, turning away to strip off the balance of his clothes.
When she returned, she found him seated in the tub—thank the Blessed Virgin—leaning back against the edge with his eyes closed, his black hair plastered wetly to the nape of his neck. Resting on the sides of the tub, his huge arms bulged with muscle, and heavy bands of sinew rippled across his massive chest.
“My back is in need of scrubbing,” he said without opening his eyes. He shifted to give her access, forcing water over the edge and onto the planked oaken floor.
“Aye, my lord.” Caryn’s hand shook as she soaped a rag and began to wash his shoulders. ’Twas like scrubbing well-honed steel.
“Now my chest.” He leaned back once more and Caryn bent over him, her fingers moving with purpose, trying not to notice the texture of his skin or the warmth of his breath against her ear.
He captured her wrist and with it her attention. “What you did this day,” he said softly, “’twas unwise of you,ma chere.I would have these people’s respect. I will allow naught to occur that might undermine that which I have worked so hard to gain.”
Caryn’s hand trembled where it rested against his chest. “’Twas never my intention, my lord.”
“Had I believed it was, ’twould be a far greater penalty you would pay.”
Her eyes searched his face. There was something in his expression, something that told her more than his words. “I fear I may have done you an injustice.”
A thick black brow arched up. “How is that?”
“I have come to believe, had I remained in the shadows, your sentence would have been the same. Is that not so, my lord?”
Some of the tension eased from his body. For the first time he smiled. “That is so, Cara.”
Caryn smiled, too. “I am glad, my lord.”
For a moment they remained that way, Ral’s blue-gray eyes on her face, Caryn’s fixed on his beautiful lips. It took a strength of will to force her attention away. She started to rise, felt his hand on her arm, felt a sharp tug that threw her off balance.
Caryn shrieked as he tumbled her into the water.
“Sweet Mary, what do you? Have you lost your wits?”
He chuckled, a soft deep rumble in his chest. “Mayhap I have.” Her useless struggles made his smile grow even wider. “Since you have once more escaped my wrath, I will assume the next time you find causeto doubt my judgment, you will speak of it when we are alone.”
Caryn stopped fighting, her eyes going wide. “You would hear what it is I have to say?”
“You are my wife, Caryn. That alone would grant you a certain amount of respect.”
She propped herself up on his chest, regarding him closely. “In truth, my lord, after this day, you have claimed a certain amount of my own.”
Ral’s eyes turned the blue of the sky outside the narrow slit of a window. She felt his hold on her waist grow tighter, felt the muscles in his arms grow tense. He captured her chin with a hand, bent his head, and his mouth settled gently over hers.
Caryn groaned at the feel of it, at the soft heat melting through her body. His lips were hot and demanding, yet there was tenderness in his touch, too. She opened to his coaxing, let his tongue slide in, felt his hand brush the underside of a breast. Her nipple went hard against the warm, damp fabric of her tunic. Beneath her hips, she felt Ral’s throbbing manroot. She should have been afraid of what might happen. Instead the heat grew more fierce and Caryn slid her arms around his neck.
The moment she did, guilt assailed her. Sweet Mother Mary, what was she doing? She knew where this was leading. She knew she had to stop it and she had to stop it now. Pressing her hands against his chest, she broke away.
“Please, my lord, I-I beg you to release me.”
He smiled, but the warmth had drained away. “’Twould seem an odd request, considering…” His wet hand smoothed over a breast and she trembled with the fiery sensation.
“Please, my lord. Must I remind you of your pledge?”
“I need no reminder save the vacant place I should be filling in your bed.” He rose from the tub, sloshing water all over the floor, Caryn caught up in his arms. “If ’tisyour wish, my lady, that I release you”—stepping out of the tub, he turned and dropped her back into the water—“then so be it.”
“Curse you!” Sputtering with outrage, furious and oddly disappointed, Caryn wiped away the soapsuds that trickled down her cheeks.
