"Lady Joan, your betrothed beckons." He nodded toward the lower tables.
The blonde looked over her shoulder, lips pressed together in a thin line. "Excuse, me, my lord. Countess." Yet Lady Joan ignored Gillian, focusing only on Royce. "We will speak again, my lord. Soon."
Gillian studied her husband's icy expression and shivered. She'd felt that cold stare on her more than once. Yet, when he turned to her, a different man met her gaze.
His eyes warmed to liquid amber, his mouth curved in a slight smile. Her heart raced to recognize his affection. Forgotten was the haughty Lady Joan, the shameful courtiers. Gillian could only gaze transfixed at her husband, as he stared almost lovingly at her. Despite their tumultuous start, Gillian finally felt her marriage would not be an endless prison of misery.
Royce leaned close, his mouth hovering near her ear. "I have no desire to stay for the entire feast. But I find I am still hungry."
His low voice and insinuating words started a heat that quickly spread through her core. Her fingers trembled in his. Her body already prepared for him, her sex growingslick and hot. She pressed her thighs together in a vain effort to quell the fire.
"There are more courses to be served, and the sweets have not been brought out." Hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the tremor from her voice. His wink told her he noticed.
"I have something much sweeter for you to enjoy."
She licked her lower lip, her breath hitching in her throat. "Mayhap we can leave now."
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. When he calmed, his grin left her heart racing in an erratic rhythm.
"I have indeed created a Wildcat. I will make our excuses to the king."
She found her impatience growing as Edward lured her husband into another discussion of strategy. Another course was served, but she no longer had any appetite for food. Finally Royce turned to her, offering his hand while he stood.
"Come, I would depart now."
Happiness bubbled in her when he slid an arm around her shoulders, holding her close beside him. His fingers toyed with her hair, the gentle touch stirring all sorts of shivery sensations. He guided her toward the stairs and when they passed the lower tables, she caught Lady Joan openly staring. The man beside her angrily forced the woman to look at him. Though Gillian couldn't hear his words, she knew he scolded Lady Joan. She shouldn't be so pleased to see the woman's disappointed humiliation. Had marriage turned her into a bloodthirsty shrew?
The stroke of her husband's hand along her arm chased her thoughts. She looked up to see his warm smile as he guided her up the stairs. 'Twould seem she worried for naught.
***
Royce led Gillian into their chamber where Edith tended the fire. He ordered her out, shaking his head at the timid woman as she nearly ran from the room. Gillian'schuckle drew his attention.
"Why does she fear me?"
"You are an intimidating man, my lord." Laughter laced her words.
"You are not intimidated."
"Nay. I see you for what you really are."
He arched an eyebrow. "What would that be?"
"A man who likes people to fear him, though in truth, you are not as terrifying as you think."
He stepped closer, loving the way the firelight illuminated her slender neck when she tilted her head back. He ran a finger along her skin, savoring her shiver.
"There are those who say I am the fiercest knight in Edward's army."
"I'm sure in battle, your nickname holds true. But the Panther I know is as fierce as a kitten."
He grabbed her arms, pulling her against him. "I've shown my ferocity many times, and will again, should it be necessary. And if you dare speak such inanity to anyone else, you will be punished for it."
"Fear not, I have no plans to ruin your reputation. For now."
The sparkle in her eyes stirred him as much as her body against his. She taunted him deliberately and he gave a moment's thanks that his wife enjoyed the darker side of pleasure near as much as he did. Already his cock had hardened to steel, and he wanted to be inside her. Now.
He took her mouth in a devouring kiss, thrusting his tongue deep. He would never tire of her taste. Or her eager response. Her hands pulled at his tunic, and he drew away.
