The bejeweled, glossy plaits of her dark hair caught the same flickering torchlight that lent a warm blush of color to her throat and cheeks, while the silk of her gown clung to her elegant form, caressing slender spans and voluptuous curves in a way that begged him to sweep his hands along the same sweet paths.
By all that was holy, he did not know how he was going to get through this. And yet he had no choice. He had made a promise to protect her, and he had never taken lightly any vow he’d made.
He breathed in, willing his body to relax, to make his mind as blank as he could, save for the task ahead of him. He would think of this in the same way he did an entrance to a battle. Aye, that was what he would do. For thiswasa battle of sorts, only one with his heart and soul at the stake.
“All right, let’s get on with it, then,” he murmured, exhaling as he pushed himself to stand, all the while keeping his sights fixed on the woman who waited with such innocent allure across the chamber…the lady who was about to become his partner in the deed ahead, whether she realized it or nay.
Alissende first noticed that something had changed, subtly perhaps, but changed nonetheless, while she was speaking with Matilda, the miller’s wife. A kind of hush seemed to spread over the gathering of villagers, men-at-arms, and other guests in the main hall, and by instinct, she straightened to see if she could discern the cause.
It took but an instant to realize that the blanket of quiet was in response to Damien. He had unfolded his lean and powerful body to stand in his place at the head table. And he was staring at her.
A jolt of heat unfurled inside.What was this about?
He remained silent, simply gazing at her, and she flushed. She felt warmth fill her cheeks, but she was powerless to prevent it. Oh, but he was handsome. There was no mistaking how he had earned the name Archangel those years ago at court; he was chiseled to muscular perfection, a breathtaking warrior who exuded at once an aura of dangerous sensuality and unwavering resolve that was nothing less than mesmerizing.
He continued to fix her with his stare, and the effect of those eyes upon her—icy blue and yet burning with such a delicious and sinful promise of pleasure—nearly caused her knees to buckle. Vaguely, she heard the scattered sighs and murmurs of adoration that swept through the female portion of this gathering. But she could not look away from Damien. And he would not relinquish his stare upon her, either.
The realization came with a sharp pang; it was the same look he’d given her time and again, before. The one that caressed her as if his hands were playing over her body, unlocking all of her secrets with his touch…that turned her insides to warm honey and caused her heart to beat faster with anticipation of what was to come.
The look that said without a doubt to any who saw it that she was his. His alone.
Sweet Jesu…
“It is time to bid this gathering a fondadieu,” Damien suddenly called out, his voice husky, though still fully audible throughout the chamber. He stepped away from the table, moving deliberately, all the while keeping his gaze locked with hers as he crossed the distance between them. “For while I thank all of you here for your presence in celebration of this blessed day,” he continued, coming closer, and closer, “I find that I can wait no longer to complete the vows I made to your lady. Vows best undertaken…in private.”
If the floor had dropped away beneath her, Alissende would not have been more surprised than she found herself at this moment. She was rendered speechless—but the chamber around her was not. The room erupted with cheers and masculine calls of encouragement, intermingled with feminine gasps, murmurs, and sighs of envy.
She felt like she’d been swept into another world, to a place that existed only in the tormented shadows of her dreams. In sleep she had surrendered to this very fantasy, had imagined how wonderful this moment might feel. Now that she faced it in truth, she was brought to a shocked standstill.
But there was no time to think on it. Damien had crossed the chamber and was now standing directly in front of her. Alissende blinked, but he did not fade away as he would have in her dream. Nay, he stood close enough that she could have touched him if she wished. Still overwhelmed with all she was feeling, she could not bring herself to undertake that temptation. Not yet.
Damien seemed to possess no similar reluctance.
Before she could even consider protesting, he slid his arm around her waist, tugging her full against him, and the sudden rush of sensation made her gasp aloud. But when he raised his other hand to sweep up along her cheek, burying his fingers in her hair to cup the back of her head, everything seemed to go still inside her.
“Play along with me, Alissende—please,” he murmured to her, even as he tipped her back the slightest bit and slanted his mouth over hers for a kiss of such passion that it stole what little breath remained to her.
Sweet angels in heaven…
Damien’s tender assault broke the spell that had held her in thrall, and her instincts surged to life. Arching up, she kissed him back, tasting him fully and reveling in the sweet, hot demand of his mouth on hers. It felt so good…so good to kiss him again, and one hand grasped at the front of his tunic while her other slid up to the nape of his neck, tangling in the thick waves there.
She heard the low sound of pleasure from deep in his throat as he came back for more, and then more again, until she felt light-headed with the need that rushed through her like licking flames. Her arm tightened over his shoulders lest she sink to the floor in a boneless heap, the barrage of exquisite sensation almost too much to bear.
At last, with a feral-sounding growl, he pulled away, though just enough to reach one arm down behind her knees and sweep her up into his embrace. He cradled her against him, and the cheers grew deafening as he carried her toward the doorway that led to the upper floor…to the private chamber they were to share as man and wife.
That realization, coupled with what had just happened, stabbed deep, startling her from her sensual languor.
“Damien—?” she uttered in a hoarse whisper, seeking his gaze, struggling for purchase in a world that seemed to have gone whirling madly around her.
His glance sliced into her, sharp and filled with bittersweet agony. It silenced her, and she understood in that sinking moment that what had just passed between them had been for naught but show. That his kisses had been actions put on for the benefit of those gathered to witness their marriage feast.
Many of the more boisterous members of the crowd clamored behind them, forming the party of witnesses traditional to a couple’s first bedding. Those most into their cups called out suggestive comments for conjugal bliss, while the women batted at their drunken mates, laughing and giving advice of their own, as they followed along on the journey to the lord’s chamber.
At last they reached the door, and Damien paused, turning to face those gathered in the expectation of some sport. He cleared his throat, and the small crowd grew silent, eager to hear what he would say.
“As no audience is required for the consummation of a second marriage, I would ask that you leave us here to our privacy. For as warm as it is in the great hall this summer’s eve, I warrant that this chamber will prove dangerouslyhotbefore long—pleasurable for us, perhaps, but for you?…”
He let his voice trail off, shaking his head and grinning at the hoots of the menfolk in response to his suggestive claim. Only Alissende knew how much the moment cost him, for it felt as if every muscle in his chest and arms tightened as he held her, and she saw the rigid clench of his jaw from the side.
