Page 76 of Bold Angel
Ral allowed his wife’s cool treatment for another two long weeks. She was courteous, though her manner remained aloof, and she never sought him out unless she had to.
Since he had not returned to his leman’s bed, Lynette had ceased speaking to him, too, though for that he found himself grateful.
Ral cursed softly as he sat before the fire pit in the great hall. Deep burnished red flames reminded him of the color of Caryn’s hair. She sat there now, on the opposite side of the fire pit, across from the young knight, Geoffrey, engrossed in a game of chess. Her gown drew taut over her breasts as she leaned over the board and touched his arm, then Ral heard masculine laughter. When Caryn’s soft laughter joined in, a knot balled hard in his stomach.
Sweet Christ, what goes on between the pair?His wife had shown little interest in him of late, but she had no such qualms about the young knight he had once set to guard her. If he thought for a single moment… if he had the slightest suspicion that Geoffrey had overstepped his bounds… His fingers bit into the arm of his chair as he watched them. There seemed nothing furtive in the young knight’s manner, yet seeing them together, a jealous rage welled up inside him.
God’s blood, what power did she wield that she could make him feel this way? It made him want to lash out at her, to raise his fist to Geoffrey. It made him more certain than ever that he had done the right thing, and less sure than he had ever been of anything he had done before.
He only knew that she belonged to him and not to Geoffrey. That she belonged once more in his bed. God’s wounds, it was his right as her lord and her husband, his right that she submit, that she yield to him and bear him sons!
Ral came up from the chair so swiftly it toppled over behind him, landing with a thud amidst the herb-scented rushes. He rounded the fire pit, bearing down on the two before the chessboard, his mood black and suddenly determined. His hand reached out and encircled Caryn’s wrist.
“My lord?” Her head came up from where she had been studying a forward move of her queen.
“Your game is ended. We are for bed.”
She stiffened in his hold and glanced across at Geoffrey, making his mood even blacker.
“’Tis certain you would have won,” the blond knight said with an even smile.
Caryn looked back at Ral, but did not argue as he had expected. Instead, her chin came up. “As you wish, my lord.”
They climbed the stairs in silence, Ral’s eyes on the gleam of rushlight on her heavy auburn hair, the seductive sway of her hips. Already he was hard and throbbing, eager to feel himself sheathed inside her.
When they came to the door of their chamber, she paused. “I have done as you wished and returned upstairs. But I would have you know I do not want you in my bed.”
A muscle knotted in his jaw. “What you want is no longer important. You are my wife—that is all thatcounts.” He lifted the latch and opened the door, then drew her in beside him.
When he turned her into his arms, she did not fight him, but neither was she soft and responsive.
“I have missed you, Caryn.” He caught her chin and tipped her head back, then captured her lips in a kiss. They were cooler than he remembered, stiff and unyielding. He parted them with his tongue and slid it inside, but still he felt none of the heat that usually infused her small body. He ended the kiss but did not move away.
“You intend to deny me?”
“’Tis your right as husband to take me. I will submit if that is your wish.”
His brow arched upward, his temper rising while a cold unease settled heavily in his chest. “Submit but not respond—is that what you intend?”
“If you want me to pretend—”
“Do not bait me, Caryn.”
“I do not mean to. ’Tis simply that my feelings for you have changed.”
His eyes formed the question without words.
“Once I desired you. Now I do not.”
Ral felt a hot surge of anger. “You are a woman of passion. I do not believe you can cool your ardor so easily.” He hauled her against him and kissed her again, using his tongue, cupping her breasts, stroking her nipple. He slid his hands down her body, but there was no answering passion. Her heartbeat continued with the same steady rhythm as before.
“You wanted me once,” he said, forcing himself away, torn between anger and frustration and a slowly deepening fear. “Now you are saying you feel nothing?” Caryn did not answer. “If you think to bring Geoffrey to your bed, you are mistaken.”
“Geoffrey? He is hardly more than a boy.”
“He is a man and he is ambitious. He would like nothingbetter than the power he would gain should he hold the key to your heart.”
“I have no yearning for Geoffrey. ’Tis not him nor any other man I want in my bed.”
