Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(124)
“Do you really like the mare?” he asked innocently.
“Aye, I do,” Shanna replied, keeping a wary eye on his progress. “ ‘Tis a shame she suffered so from the voyage.”
“ ‘Tis, but she should heal well,” Ruark commented. “She is of good stock, that Jezebel.”
The mare stomped and snorted at the mention of her name.
Ruark peered into the mare’s stall as if concerned. “She seems to chafe against her pain.” He straightened. “What’s that?”
Unwarily Shanna turned her head, and as soon as her gaze left him, the fork sailed into the corner. As it clattered down, Shanna found herself swept up in Ruark’s arms. She cried out, but not too loudly lest she wake the stable boy. For the most part her struggle took place in silence.
“Ruark, put me down.” She managed to twist herself around until her toes were touching the cobbled floor, but his arm was wrapped around her beneath her robe, and she felt his hand against her bare buttocks. “Behave! This is no place—”
He laughed against her ear. “For fools and children you said. If that should mean you love me, I care not for which it be.”
Shanna wedged her arm between them and clutched the robe at her throat, well aware of her near-nakedness and the familiarity of his hand wandering up her back.
“Ruark, you can’t. Oh, stop that.”
He nibbled at her ear, sending a flood of shivers up and down her spine.
“Ruark, I tell you we just can’t—not here! Now stop that!”
Shanna managed to get his hand away and almost escaped as his grasp loosened for a moment. But Ruark trapped her again as she made to flee. With a sudden heave, Shanna pushed with all her strength. Ruark’s heel caught on a loose flagstone, and he sprawled full length backward onto a pile of hay. It was his good fortune that his hand caught her gown, and Shanna found herself pulled down on top of him. Their bare limbs were entangled, her hair wildly tossed about them. For a moment Shanna struggled to rise as she recognized the fires in her own loins kindling with the hard flint of his, but with a low chuckle Ruark rolled with her, imprisoning her beneath him. Her robe had parted, the light night-shift strayed upward over her belly. Braced on his elbows above her, Ruark smiled down into her eyes.
“So, temptress, I’ve caught you. Will you change into another form and fly away? Or will you play your siren song until my poor befuddled head shall lose its wit and I am tossed mindless onto the rocks of this barren shore?” My gaze does see a vixen bold with enchanted form, mermaid eyes and seafoam breasts, who doth ever lure me on, stirring me beyond my ends; then crying nay, nay, nay, she flies and leaves me mewling like a hungering child for her.“
Shanna’s voice was soft as she gazed into those golden eyes that hypnotized her and slowly sapped her will to resist. “When have I ever tempted you so sorely then denied your manly lust?”
“You are, my love, the Circe of my dreams who, when I close my eyes, does make me a rutting swine to slaver at your feet for the merest tidbit of your favor.”
“If I pain you so, good sir,”—Shanna laughed with a warm twinkle in her eyes and plucked a straw from his hair—“why don’t you leave? Perhaps when the sawmill is done, I can ply my father for your freedom and your fare to the colonies. Would you then leave me?”
She was suddenly serious and watched him closely, waiting his answer. Ruark was as serious and gently smoothed a curl from her brow.
“Nay, madam,” he whispered. “Though you send me ten thousand miles away and build a wall against my chance return, I would ever, like a moth, come fluttering to your fires to seek my passion and my pain.”
Though Shanna had thought to feel provoked with his sure denial, instead there came a warming deep within her and a strange softness began to grow toward him.
“And then, kind sir,”—it was indeed a devilish serpent who bade Shanna to pluck the apple from the tree and take this bite—“would you too decry your affection for the girl, Milly, and pledge to me alone?”
Ruark drew back from her in surprise, astonished that the girl’s name should even be mentioned.
“Milly!” The word burst from him unbidden. “Why, that little twit—”
A trickle of chaff fell upon them from above, then a breathless squeal pierced the air, and a full shower of hay nearly covered them. Ruark rose to his knees and spitting chaff, brushed the stuff away as Shanna scrambled to her feet, snatching her robe together. There was a thrashing beside them. The form stilled and sat up. Again the name burst from Ruark’s lips, louder still.