Page 68 of Bride of Fire
“One more thing,” she said.
“Aye, Miss?”
“Did you bring breakfast?”
Chapter 34
Morgan figured Bethac’s interruption had been for the best.
Jenefer was right. He’d never take a woman against her will. But given enough temptation, he might take a willing woman against his better judgment.
So, with as little comment as possible, he left her to her breakfast and headed to the practice field, hoping to work off his frustrations with a claymore.
There was still no sign of Rivenloch, though he kept his archers posted on the wall and his knights armed and ready for war.
By midday, he was dusty from bouts and dripping with sweat. But he was no closer to forgetting the winsome wench who’d fired his blood this morn.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her irresistible scent. Her lush curls and silky skin. Her glazed and sparkling eyes. The evocative pressure of her lips. Her supple, voluptuous breasts. The feral, feminine sounds she made as she helped herself to his body.
Even now, the memory made him grow hard.
Raising his claymore, he hacked at the stuffed dummy in the midst of the practice field until he chopped it into bits of straw.
He wished he could beat his emotions into submission so easily.
But visions of Jenefer kept intruding.
And to his shame, he kept comparing her to his wife.
They were worlds apart.
Alicia had been sweet and reserved. Too timid to hold his hand or kiss him in front of the clan, she’d blushed if he so much as whispered in her ear. Because she was modest, their swiving had been done in the dark and under the coverlet. She’d never gasped or cried out, but merely endured his fondling and thrashing in compliant silence. Never would she have dreamed of initiating lovemaking.
He smiled as he recalled Jenefer climbing atop him with brazen command, pinning him to the bed with voracious kisses.
Then he sighed.
Surely that was his long forced chastity speaking and not reason.
It was only that he missed trysting. That was all. Jenefer was like a brimming cup of ale to a thirsty traveler.
Still, he couldn’t forget how flattering her bold advances were. How unabashed she’d been at being discovered by the maid. And most touching, the way she’d attempted to salvage his honor.
He’d never imagined he’d grow fond of another woman. He’d thought himself incapable of ever loving again. And it still felt wrong to feel tenderness toward Jenefer, as if he were somehow being disloyal to Alicia.
If Colban were here, he would tell Morgan that he was being ridiculous. Alicia was gone.
In his head, Morgan knew that. But in his heart? His heart wasn’t so easy to convince.
“What’s wrong, Jen? Don’t you want some of this?” Feiyan asked in disbelief.
From the window, Jenefer glanced briefly over her shoulder. The guard had brought in a platter of smoked haddock, hard cheese, bread, and ale. But it didn’t look half as appetizing as what was charging across the practice field below.
“In a bit,” she replied, returning to gaze out the window.
Even at this distance, she was drawn to Morgan like iron to a lodestone. The mere sight of him made her burn.
What devilry affected her, she didn’t know. But her heart throbbed as she watched him wield his claymore with passion and power. The violent ring of steel on steel as he faced his challengers, defeating them with a roar of victory, called to her warrior’s blood. And the memory of lying atop his magnificent body, feasting on his lips while his fingers swept with gentle restraint across her flesh, left her breathless.
