“I, ah, I heard youmention her,” she added, “when you were speaking with Sophietoday.”
Talon’s first impulse was to tell her.Tell her it was the vision of her standing in the river that hadcursed him on sight, his oath outside of his tent that had damnedhim to protect her not only from Nithard and Ranulf but fromhimself, from the fate that Sophie had warned him of.For Sophiewas right.He was a soldier in the king’s army.He would leavehere, he would leave her, sooner more likely than later.He had nointention of leaving her with his bastard in her belly.“Then it’sSophie you should ask,” he said at last.“Or any other west endwoman, for I will not tell you, and you cannot witch it out ofme.”
***
Lara
The captain pushed himself up from hischair, gimped over to the bed with a cricked neck and crookedspine, and lay down flat on his back with a stifled groan.Lara setthe used water basin and rags outside the chamber door and thenwandered around, picking up and refolding clothes already foldedand stacked on the captain’s chest.She set another log to thehearth fire, though it was plenty big and warm enough, and movedone of the white Shah knights to block a black bishop.She glancedat the captain, his eyes closed, his breathing slow andrhythmic.
“Sweet Mary, Mother ofJesus,” she cursed softly, used to having the chamber to herselfwell into the night.“How am I going to sleep with him here earlytonight?”Wolf ambled over and nosed the closed drapes to thelittle bathing antechamber and then looked up at Lara, wagging histail.Lara pushed the drapes back and swirled a hand through thestill-warm tub water.Between treating the captain in the stablesand his showing up at her and Sophie’s house that afternoon, shehadn’t bathed in the river today.A warm bath sounded enticing.“Good idea, Wolf.”
She gathered her nightshift, closedthe drapes, and sat on the edge of the tub, untying her braid anddrumming up enough courage to get naked with the captain in thechamber, even if he was sound asleep and she was enclosed, out ofsight.After stripping quickly, she stepped into the tub andlowered herself chin deep into the water, which smelled ofsandalwood soap.Of the captain.
Sophie had been right about himfiguring out Lara had been listening to their conversation, her earpressed up against the cellar door.She hadn’t been able to hear orunderstand most of what was said between them, but she’d heard himmention his wildcat, and she’d understood the melancholy timbre ofhis voice when he’d called himself cursed and damned.Again,Ravenna’s pretty, pouty face came to her unbidden, and the hairs onthe back of her neck stood straight up.Ravenna had bought threemore vials of love potion from Sophie only a few days ago and hadlet it be known that all three were meant for the captain.Was thatwhy he’d asked Sophie about the potion’s ingredients?Had he drunkRavenna’s offerings?Knowingly?Willingly?
Lara took several deep breaths in andout, in and out, trying to clear her mind of Ravenna and potionsand the captain and his curse, but her mind kept returning to apair of brooding gray eyes, one bruised and swollen, staring at herand telling her it hurt more.
“More.”She sighed,letting the look in his eyes wash over her.Why would it hurt himto look at her?Did he blame her for his falling off the Black?Allshe’d done was sit in the window and watch him on the stallion,admiring the way horse and rider moved as one, churning up earthand sailing over logs with a power and grace she hadn’t witnessedsince watching another horse and rider win a tournament in Neustriafourteen summers ago.The same summer she’d told the captain aboutin the stables, where he’d looked at her so that her breath caughtand her insides stirred just thinking about it now, about more.“Arrgghh.”
Lara kicked the tub and slapped thewater.She didn’t understand it, any of it, any of him.She sat up,slapped the water again with a wordless curse, then splashed downand submerged her entire body under the water.Maybe she coulddrown the man from her mind.
She’d only released one bubble fromher nose when she was yanked up to her knees and then her feet,gasping for air and spitting mad.She tried to push away, but thecaptain’s arms were like iron bands holding her tight, her barebreasts pressed against his chest.
“You bastard.”She swungher head up, slamming into the captain’s jaw.He let out a grunt ofpain but didn’t loosen his hold on her.
“I thought you weredrowning.”His ragged voice sounded as if he’d swum a leaguethrough a storm-tossed sea to get to her.He ran a hand through herwet hair and pulled her head back until her gaze met his.“God’sblood, Lara, I thought you were drowning.”
She was drowning.She was standing ina tub of water drowning in the wet heat she felt everywhere herbare skin touched him, from her breasts plastered to his soakedtunic to her belly, which met his with every gasping breath.Hisbody was hard against hers, giving off a heat that Lara’s craved.She leaned into it, into him, and the shock of it shot through herand stood him straight up.He dropped his hold and stepped back,away from her.He set his jaw, and the scar on his cheek blazedwhite as he raked her from head to toe with his steelygaze.
Lara covered herself with her hands.“You’re bleeding.”Her voice was a hoarse whisper as sheshivered.
He touched a finger to his bloodiedlip and glared at it, at her.“Don’t I always?”He turned on hisheel and was gone.
Gone from the bath chamber where Larastood dripping wet and naked, not knowing whether to laugh or cryor curse or scream.Gone from the bedchamber by the thud of thedoor slamming shut and a loud shouting of men’s voices from thehall below.
Her mind numb, her senses scattered,she forced herself to think, to move, to dry herself and don hernightshift before stepping out into the empty bedchamber.Thecaptain’s tunic was wadded up on his bed, the entire front of itsoaked from where her wet, naked body had pressed up against it.Lara picked it up and held it to her nose, breathing in the dampscent of sandalwood and man, of him.She threw it back down on thebed.
“Don’t be a fool, Lara,”she chastised herself.“You were a naked woman in a man’s arms, wasall.”A big, strong, uprightman.“Don’t make more of it than it was.Don’t end up as Sophie warned, with a belly full of his child.Leave that to his wildcat.”
***
Warmth swamped Lara’s arms and legs,and she leaned into it, seeking a hardness her body craved, sighingwith disappointment as she sunk into softness instead.She burrowedher nose deeper into the softness, catching soap, leather, andmusky male scents.Talon.Rolling onto her back, she opened hereyes to a drape-less bedframe.
She shot up.What was she doing inTalon’s bed, with his tunic in her hand and the sun’s rays shiningin on her through the open window?And when had he become Taloninstead of Captain?Wolf lay beside her, thumping his tail, and sheburied a hand into his fur, into something familiar as she glancedaround the chamber, empty but for them.The open drapes to thebathing chamber caught her eye, and it all came back.Sheremembered Talon yanking her up out of the tub water, soaking wetand naked.She remembered the hard breadth of his chest pressedagainst hers, the rawness of his voice in her ear, the feel of hishand in her hair.She remembered the searing heat of his gaze, hisloins.She remembered when he’d become Talon.
She threw his tunic down onto thepillow where she could still see the dent from her head and jumpedfrom the bed as if singed.
“Sweet Mary, Mother ofJesus.”The way she’d leaned in to him….The way he’d stiffened andstepped away from her….“What have I done?He thinks me a wantonwoman.A woman he doesn’t want.”
She started to pace, trying to calmherself, to keep from bursting into tears of confusion andfrustration.Why had she leaned in to him?Why did she want to doit again?To feel his hardness against her and drown in eyes thatfilled her with her own strange heat?Why, if he didn’t want her,was want all she felt when he looked at her the way he had lastnight?The way he’d looked at her in the stables and told her ithurt him more.More than what?She stopped pacing and stood at theopen window, staring out into the sky as if it could give heranswers.The only answer it gave her was that she’d slept late intothe morning.
“Come on, boy,” she toldWolf as he pushed his nose into her hand.“We’d better get moving.Berta will be furious with me for missing breakfast.”
Yet when Lara walked into the kitchenwhere Berta was kneading and flouring loaves of rye, the cook onlygave her a cheery smile.
“Did you have a goodsleep, dearie?”
Lara nodded sheepishly and pouredherself a cup of cider from the pitcher.
