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Forever My Love(54)

By:Lisa Klepyas


Her body was vaguely sore this morning, her mind filled with the memories of last night. She had come alive at Alec's touch, and now she was aware of sensa­tions she had never known before. How fortunate she had been to have had one glorious night with the man she loved, to have known his tenderness, his passion, it was more than some women would ever have, and she would not dare to ask for more. Sighing, she sank deeper into the bath, wanting to wriggle with the uneasy pleasure of it all. All the details of what they had shared were still vivid in her mind… she would never forget a bit of it. She had awakened several times in the darkness to find herself gathered against Alec's large warm body, her face pillowed against his shoulder, her fingers tangled in the long gold rope chain that draped across his chest.

"What is this?" she had inquired during one of their cozy whispered conversations, holding the medallion up to examine it in the moonlight that had filtered into the room. A savage design was engraved on both sides, a falcon in flight, with pointed wings spread wide and knifelike talons extended. The solid gold piece was adorned with tiny sparkling jewels: rubies for the eyes of the bird, emeralds for the leaves of the holly branches etched above the falcon's head.

"The Falkner crest. The medallion was a gift to my great-grandfather from George II. A reward for train­ing the royal falcons."

"Your great-grandfather was a falcon trainer?"

"A family tradition which died out several years ago." Alec had brushed his fingertips over her wrist and traced the pattern on the medallion. "But we used to keep falcons when I was younger. My cousin Holt and I would sit and watch them for hours… while the birds were tethered, of course. See those back talons? Those are what they strike and kill with."

Mira had shivered slightly. "Why are there holly branches over the bird's head?"

"A private jest between my great-grandfather and the king." Alec had smiled wryly. "Holly is a tough and resistant type of wood. Stubborn, little resilience—it will split or break before bending. It seems that King George considered my great-grandfather to be a very obstinate and willful man, and so the king ordered the holly design to be included in the medallion. We've kept it the crest ever since."

"You've also kept the stubbornness," Mira had said, causing Alec to chuckle softly.

"I'm not always stubborn… not when I'm ap­proached with the right persuasion." Then he had lowered his mouth to steal a warm kiss from her lips… and then another, and another, until the medal­lion had dropped from her fingers and she had lifted her arms around his neck.

She had woken up to find the chain fastened around her hips, the medallion lying on top of her smooth abdomen. Like a brand. Like a mark of possession. Staring dazedly at the ornament, Mira had felt a strange kind of panic take hold of her until she had discovered how to unfasten the clasp on the gold chain and take the necklace off. Had he meant it as a gift to her? Had he found some obscure humor in enchaining her with it?

The medallion was beautiful, but she was not at all certain that she wanted it. She would never be able to look at it without remembering last night, perhaps the only night of love she would ever know. She did not need or want any visible reminders, though loving him had been worth any price, even that of longing for him every single night for the rest of her life. No one could take the memories away from her, and no one, not even Alec himself, could destroy them. From now on, whether he treated her with kindness or malice, noth­ing could change last night—the memories were hers to keep.

After rising from her bath and drying herself with a length of toweling, she dressed in a dark chocolate-colored gown trimmed with cream corded silk. The color of it intensified the darkness of her eyes until they appeared almost black. A cream-colored sash was tied in a saucy bow at her side, while elaborately tucked and gathered sleeves tapered to her wrists. The hem was adorned with a band of the same corded silk that edged the bodice. Mira was pleased with her appearance, especially when she added the pearl-studded net to her hair as a finishing touch. It was important that she look her best today; if she was going to face the Berkeleys, she would confront them in a composed manner.

Mira felt a wild flutter of nervousness at the realiza­tion that finally she would see Rosalie again. Perhaps Rosalie might forgive her for what had happened five years ago; Mira hoped desperately that she would. Biting the tip of her finger absently, she sat on the edge of her bed, expelling a long sigh. What should I do when they've arrived here? she wondered anx­iously. Send a note to their room? It would not be wise simply to appear before them without warning. Maybe she should wait for an opportunity to meet Rosalie alone while Berkeley was out hunting. One thing was certain—she would not go anywhere near the Berkeleys unless Alec was close by to watch out for her. There was no telling what Rand Berkeley might do to her, for although he was not an unjust man, he would never forgive or forget someone who had been instrumental in taking Rosalie away from him.