Talia bathed and washed her hair. Brushed it till it lay as smooth as silk. She tried her hand at the pots and jars Astrid had given her, added a blush to her cheeks and reddened her lips. Giving in to a wicked impulse, she dabbed a bit of red on her nipples before slipping on the gown. In one of their sessions of girl talk, Astrid had confided that Viking women did that when they wanted to inspire their men to perform with extra enthusiasm.
Too nervous to eat, she sat down by the window and sipped a cup of tea. Talia watched the sun fall lower in the sky as she stroked the fabric of his shirt on her lap, washed and folded and ready.
Lost in erotic fantasies, she jumped at the knock on the door. Ivar escorted her through the maze to the prince’s chambers, rapped on the door then disappeared. She glanced around wildly, ready to bolt.
The door opened. Kylar stood there, resplendent in shiny leather boots and navy trousers topped with a creamy-white shirt in a fabric much softer and finer than the rough cloth gripped in her hands. His shoulder-length hair was swept back off his forehead, neatly tucked behind his ears.
He regarded her solemnly. Gave a half bow. “Your excellency. Please, come in.”
She crossed the threshold on shaky legs.
“May I say you look especially lovely tonight? The color blue suits you. Although you’re not exactly dressed for the evening I have in mind.”
She shivered, wondering if he’d order her to pull up her skirt and bare her bottom immediately.
Kylar led the way to a small table and two chairs drawn up to the fireplace. Talia was surprised to see the hearth cold and dark. “Please, sit. I see you brought my shirt. Excellent. I have plans for it. Later. Would you care for a drink?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice to speak.
“Very well. We can proceed.” He looked her up and down, once again made her feel as though he could see right through her clothes. “I’m sorry. I should have suggested that you bring a cloak. I forget you’re not familiar with our climate. The night air is chilly this time of year.”
“Cloak? Are we going out?”
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Surely you recall our wager? You agreed that if you lost, you would spend another night with me under the stars, whenever I wanted. Ivar is preparing the horses. You do ride, don’t you?”
She shook her head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Camping? On the cold hard ground? He’d never even mentioned the spanking she’d been half dreading, half aching for all day. “I’ve never ridden a horse. Except the other morning, when you put me in front of you as we made our way to the fortress.”
“You can ride with me again. If you like, I’ll give you a lesson tomorrow when we come back.” He ushered her to the door. “It’s a beautiful night for a ride. We’re not going far. You can borrow my cloak.”
Kylar wrapped her in a fur-lined garment in the same dark blue as his trousers and tossed a shorter cloak over his shoulders. When they got to the stable, he lifted her onto a white stallion then swung up behind her.
She could feel his hard body even through the thick cloak. Muscles flexed as he flicked the reins with one hand and planted the other firmly around her waist. The horse took off at a steady clip. Once they’d left the palace grounds, he tucked her up tight against his body and gave the horse its head.
The stallion’s muscles rippled under her thighs. Talia gave a startled cry. The speed. The raw power. Her hair streamed behind her in the wind, but she wasn’t cold. The heat radiating from Kylar’s body kept her warm.
They headed west, into a part of the country she’d never seen, following a noisy creek that wound up into the hills. The horse rounded a bend and her eyes widened.
Kylar’s idea of camping under the stars was far different than what she’d imagined. A welcoming fire blazed in front of a shelter built of pine branches, with a wooden table and two straight-backed chairs set up underneath it. He’d had his servant layer a soft nest of furs into a bed near the fire. It looked much more comfortable than the hard ground they’d slept on last time. The night breeze brought the welcoming aroma of roast hare.
He slid off the horse, put a hand on either side of her waist, and lifted her easily. Ushering her to the table, he poured them each a cup of cider. “No honey mead tonight, my lady. I want you fully present for every moment this time.”
She’d behaved shamelessly that night. “Once again, my lord, I…must apologize…” she stammered. “As you have pointed out, I was not myself. The strong spirits…”
He stopped her apology in mid-sentence. “On the contrary, I think you were more yourself than you want to admit.”
Kylar drew her attention to the night sky. Pointing out several constellations she wasn’t familiar with, he told her Gadolinian myths about them. Instead of putting her at ease, his casual chatter only made her more nervous. When he laid out plates and served up their meal, she wanted to throw her dish at him. She’d been in a constant state of arousal all day, fantasizing about what the night would hold. And it certainly wasn’t polite conversation over a supper of roasted rabbit.
“You’ve barely touched your food. My apologies. I didn’t ask the cook to prepare a meatless dish for you.” He met her eyes. “I thought only of recreating our first night together.”
“It’s all right. I’m not hungry.”
“Then let’s move on to the second part of our wager.” He pushed his chair back from the table and patted his thigh. “Come here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Faced with her naughtiest fantasy about to become reality, Talia froze.
Kylar raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten the terms you agreed to?”