Page 24 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“What?” Her heart almost stopped with the brash way he spoke to her. She reached out to slap him for being so bold as to say such things, but before she could, he pulled her into his arms. As she fell against his body, he pressed his lips to hers, making her forget everything but how good it felt.

She didn’t mean to linger in his embrace, but she liked it all too much. Sir Rick made her feel alive like no man had ever done before. His hands slipped down her back as he kissed her. Then she felt the slight squeeze on her bottom end. She jerked in surprise, only managing to push herself up against his hardened form.

“My lord, I do not think we should continue this,” she said, still kissing him because she really didn’t want to stop.

“I understand you like playing hard to get, but there is no need for that, my love.” One of his hands snaked upward and his palm settled over her breast. With a sharp intake of breath, she pushed up off of him and when she did, he buried his face in her cleavage, kissing her there. Her body warmed at the feel of his hot breath on her chest. Then he caressed her breasts right through her clothes, his thumbs flicking over her nipples, causing them to go erect. Her back arched as she felt the heat between them getting stronger.

“Sir Rick . . . I . . . I . . .”

“Don’t pull away from me, Love.” His head moved closer and his tongue shot out, licking her cleavage as he pushed her breasts together, still fondling her. Suddenly, she felt like Grace, letting a man use his tongue in this manner. Her mind was muddled and she felt so naughty. Especially since she was betrothed to Lord Irwin . . . a man she truly despised.

“Oooh, oh my,” she said, her breathing becoming labored.

“If we’re going to make a baby, you need to remove some of this clothing.” In one motion, he yanked up her gown, scaring her to no end by what he said.

“Nay! Leave me alone.” She reached out and slapped his face, pushing away from him, getting off the bed.

“Petronilla, why are you acting this way?”

“What did you say?” Fixing her clothes, she suddenly realized Sir Rick was asleep and thought she was someone else.

He shook his head and his eyes opened wide, staring right at her. It frightened her and she ran for the door.

“Nay, where are you going?” he called out from behind her. “Don’t leave me. Please,” he begged, but she could no longer stay here with him.

Rushing from the room, she couldn’t think straight and wondered just what in the world was happening. Mayhap she was going crazy, because none of this made any sense at all.

Orrick sat up in bed, seeing Lady Hope darting from the room. He vaguely remembered kissing her and fondling her, and fell back down groaning. He’d been dreaming about Petronilla, but now he realized his dream and his waking life had melded into one. He never should have looked into the gazing crystal because now he’d opened some kind of door to his past. He didn’t want to relive his past, and neither did he want to make the same mistakes in the present.

He wasn’t sure what happened, but he had a feeling that part of him thought Lady Hope was his late wife, Petronilla. He let out a deep breath and noticed something on the floor next to the bed. Sitting up to get a better look, he realized just what it was. Whatever he said must have scared her immensely, because she ran from his room so fast that she’d forgotten her pouch with the book in it about the Eternal Flame.

He chuckled to himself, picking up the bag, and opening the book to look inside. Sure enough, the spell had been broken. The words were there as plain as day for anyone to read. Well, that answered the question he had in the back of his mind. Lady Hope wasn’t at all who she pretended to be. Lady Hope was a witch of some sort, and now he would have to be extra careful because he wasn’t sure at all of what she was capable of doing.

Chapter 8

“Orrick, wake up!”

Orrick opened one sleepy eye to see Noah sitting on the edge of the bed staring at him. Orrick wasn’t one to sleep late, but he could see the sun streaming in from the partially opened shutter of the tower window and realized it was already well into the morning hours. He’d had a restless sleep and felt so tired that he could barely move. His body ached in every joint and his neck felt stiff.

“Noah, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sounding like he needed to clear it.

“Lord Corbett sent me to wake you up. He said Lady Hope was asking for you and he didn’t want her to come up to the tower.”

“Lady Hope,” he repeated, remembering what happened yesterday and wondering what he was going to do about it. He had a feeling he’d made some inappropriate moves with her and needed to apologize. “All right, let’s go.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, yawning and stretching. Damn, he was tired. Where was all that energy he’d had yesterday when he fought Lord Irwin on the battlefield? It had felt so good to have a sword in his hand again instead of a wand. He missed the days of being a knight.

“You’re going to the great hall like that?” asked Noah, giggling.

“I suppose I should change my clothes.” Orrick scratched the side of his face. His hand stilled. Gone was the smooth skin of his cheek and instead he had a handful of hair that felt like more than just overnight stubble. “What the hell,” he mumbled, standing up, feeling a muscle twitch in his back. He looked over to the standing mirror and his mouth dropped open.

“You’re old again,” said Noah with a big smile.

“God’s teeth, I am.” He walked closer to the mirror to inspect his image. “What happened to me?”

Orrick had shapeshifted into his younger self yesterday but, for some reason, he shifted back to his old man form while he slept. He wasn’t sure why this happened, but he didn’t like it in the least.

“My old friend Orrick is back,” said Noah, jumping up and down and clapping his hands together in excitement.

“I’m not Orrick, your old friend. I’m your young friend, Sir Rick,” he grumbled, leaning in closer to the mirror to have a better look. “Or at least I thought I was.” He touched his eyebrow and then stroked his long, white beard.