Authors: Kathryn le Veque
By the time they reached
her chamber, blood had stained the top of his hose but the wound was sealing
itself. Mara had him remove his tunic, sending a serving wench for hot water
and rags. Waiting for the woman to return, Kirk stretched out on Mara's pretty
bed and smeared blood all over the coverlet.
Mara moved to the edge
of the bed as he lay with his eyes closed, timidly examining the puncture. It
was clean, about two inches in length, and she decided it would be best to
simply clean it and bind him tightly. In truth, she had never sewn a wound in
her life and was nauseated with the thought of sticking a needle into Kirk's
flesh. Peering closer at the rather sickening injury, she was unaware that his
eyes had opened.
"It should take
about eight stitches," he said quietly, watching her turn shades of green.
"Small ones, if you please."
She swallowed hard,
daring to look him in the eye. "I... I have never sewn a wound. I do not
think I can."
He smiled faintly.
"Certainly you can. I shall help you."
She made a face of
disgust. "Kirk, I do not think...."
A sharp rap at the door
interrupted her. Gladly, she answered and Niles burst into the room. One look
at Kirk's bloody torso and the man came apart.
"Christ!" he
exclaimed, rushing to the bed. "What in the hell happened?"
Kirk was quite cool.
"Spencer pressed his attentions and I was forced to defend my interests."
He cocked an eyebrow at Niles' dismayed expression. "The lady was not
persuasive enough in her attempts to be rid of him. I had no other
choice."
"There is always a
choice," Niles insisted. "The entire castle has heard of the clash
and considering this is Spencer' domain, they are siding with him."
"I care not who the
people of Quernmore side with. Spencer did all he could to take Mara away from
me and I did what I felt necessary to dissuade him."
Niles looked at Mara,
standing rather pale next to the bed. She looked terribly guilty and he
refrained from comment; it was no one's fault in particular, but Niles was
concerned with the fact that le Vay seemed to be taking a good deal of grief
from his vassals who wanted Kirk sent home to Anchorsholme in disgrace. He had
been in the great hall for the past several minutes, listening to the rising
displeasure.
"I suppose we can
thank God that you did not kill the man," he muttered, casting Kirk's
wound a long glance before turning away. "Were that the case, I am sure we
would have a mob on our hands. You must remember, Kirk, that Spencer is very
much loved here at Quernmore. Whether or not he tried to steal your lady."
Kirk was well aware of
the situation and the consequences that could have transpired. And he certainly
wasn't blind to le Vay's disappointment or the fact that his military support
was now in jeopardy. With a grunt of effort, he swung his legs over the bed.
"Then I suppose I
should soothe the situation before it grows out of hand," he said, wincing
as he rose to his feet. "Clearly I am to be made the villain in all of
this."
Mara rushed to his side.
"You cannot! I must tend your wound!"
He cast her an amused
expression. "How? With kisses and magic? Not a minute ago you informed me
that you had no intention of sewing it."
She frowned. "I
never said that I did not intend to sew it. I simply said that I had never sewn
a wound before."
He looked around for his
stained tunic, his voice mockingly high as he repeated her words. "'Kirk,
I do not think I can sew your hideous gash.'" When Niles snickered, Kirk
turned to Mara with a smirk on his face. "Fear not, you spineless
creature. I shall survive without your needle and thread."
Her cheeks pinkened,
torn between extreme anger and the urge to giggle. "How dare you taunt
me." She stamped her little foot. "Very well, then. Go and make your
attempts to soothe the vicious mob and I hope they tear you limb from limb for
your efforts!"
He grinned broadly,
pulling the tunic over his head. Putting his fingers in the hole left by Spencer,
he gasped like a woman and pretended to faint at the sight of his wound. Mara
rushed at him, slapping him with her little hands.
"You're a horrible,
nasty man!" She struggled with him even as he grabbed her, laughing
deeply. "Out of my sight before I use your own sword against you!"
He tried to kiss her but
she slapped his lips, drawing guffaws from Niles. Laughing as she continued to
wrestle with him, Kirk groaned when he moved suddenly to avoid being hit in the
belly. All struggles and frivolity came to an end.
"Kirk!" Mara
gasped. "Did I hurt you? Are you all right?"
He eyed her, his hand to
his left side. "You have sorely taxed me, you brutal wench. If you will
not sew this scratch, then I suppose I shall have to find someone who
will."
"Lily sews a rather
beautiful stitch," Niles said, a grin playing on his lips. "Mayhap
you should seek her skills."
"Lily is tending Spencer,"
Mara said before Kirk could reply. Casting Kirk a long glance, she nodded with
resignation. "I suppose I shall have to do it if you're going to whine
about it. Niles, would you procure a needle and thread for me, please?"
Niles dipped his head.
"With pleasure, my lady."
It wasn't as bad as she
had imagined. With Niles' expert guidance, Mara managed to put seven stitches
in Kirk's side and, rather pleased that she hadn't vomited in the process,
smiled triumphantly at her pale patient. Kirk patted her on the head, his
fatigue and blood loss rendering him weak and sleepy.
Still, he intended to
find le Vay and apologize for his actions. But the longer he lay on the soft
mattress, the more tired he became. By the time Niles left the room, Kirk was
snoring softly on the blankets.
Mara bolted the door
after Niles departed. A fire blazed brightly in the hearth and she moved to
douse the spirit candles, two by the bed and another on a small table by the
door. The strange bedchamber was warm and dim, shadows from the flickering
flames dancing on the walls as she stood beside the bed and removed her surcoat.
It fell in a heap on the
floor. Carefully, she peeled back the linens and crawled into bed, being sure
not to disturb Kirk. He lay on the top of the coverlet, sleeping an exhausted
sleep, and she kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Gazing at his masculine
beauty, memorizing every line of his face, she smiled faintly as she snuggled
beneath the covers.
But sleep did not come
as easily for her as it had for him. Mara did not know how long she lay there,
listening to the strange sounds around her and Kirk's soft snoring. It was cold
in the room in spite of the fire and she pressed against him, relishing his
heat. But still, she could not sleep.
His shoulder was next to
her face and Mara found herself tracing the powerful lines of his muscles,
touching the large veins that bulged through the skin. Her small fingers moved
upward, feeling the stubble of his neck and tickling the cleft in his chin.
Involved in her exploration, she propped herself up on an elbow to inspected
his ears, noting that the lobes were perfectly formed. Finding a tiny scar just
under his jaw, she was in the process of examining it when Kirk groaned softly.
"You're going to be
the death of me, lass."
She smiled. "What
do you mean by that?"
His eyes rolled open,
clouded with sleep. "What I mean is that I would like to sleep. I
should
sleep, considering I have lost a good deal of blood." A great hand came
up, cupping her chin. "But all I can think of at this moment is making
love to you until the sun rises."
She put her face in his
neck, nuzzling his scratchy skin. "I thought I might lose you today, Kirk.
And the thought of you going to Ireland to quell a rebellion frightens me to
death. If you were to die..."
"I will not,"
he said firmly, grunting as he rolled off the bed. Pulling back the coverlet he
had been sleeping on, he removed his hose and climbed into bed beside Mara.
Gathering her in his arms, he sighed raggedly at the feel of her delicious
body. "Trust me, love. Never doubt that I shall return to you."
Her naked skin against
his, Mara was giddily content. "But what if you do not? What if you die
and I am left with nothing?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, bright
blue eyes melding with stone-gray. "Give me something to remember you
by."
He grinned, kissing her
chin, her cheek. "Gladly. Other than my body and soul, what else would you
have?"
She stared off into the
darkness of the room as his lips moved down her neck. "A son."
He stopped. Abruptly, he
pulled away, staring at her. "What did you say?"
Mara was resolute.
"I want a son." She touched his face, smiling in response to his
shock. "Why does this surprise you? We are to be married, are we not?
Whether I conceive now or on our wedding night will make no difference."
Odd that she was
reflecting his own thoughts on the night he had taken her maidenhood.
A son.
But not so odd considering how much they thought alike. Or how very much they
felt for one another.
"But... Mara, we
shall not be married until I return from Ireland," he said. "There
will not be time before I leave. And I could be gone months, lass. Time enough
for your condition to announce to the world our ill restraint."
"You would be
ashamed, then?"
"Never. But I would
not want you to feel ashamed or humiliated."
"Bearing your child
would make me proud." She continued to smile. "You once told Edmund
that we take whatever child God gives us, male or female. And the same can be
said for the timing of the child, Kirk. We have no control over such things.
For all we know, I have already conceived considering this sin we have committed
was established by God to create a child. Has that not occurred to you?"
He nodded vaguely,
swallowed by the emotion from the bright blue eyes. "It has. And so has
something else."
"What is
that?"
His eyes twinkled.
"Your sister was right. You do have a good deal of common sense, though
you like to pretend otherwise."
Mara laughed softly.
"And my common sense tells me that I want your son, no matter what the
cost. A son for the great Master of Anchorsholme."
"It could be a
lass."
"Would you be
disappointed?"
"Perish the
thought."
Mara gazed at him,
feeling the pull of emotion overwhelm her. Lowering her head, she brushed her
lips against his. "Then give me your son, Kirk Connaught," she
breathed against his mouth. "Give me your life so that you will never,
ever leave me."
He growled, pulling her
tight against him and plunging his tongue into her mouth. Mara wrapped her legs
around him as he rolled on top of her, feeling his weight and power with the
greatest of joy.
"Kirk," she
gasped as his lips moved to her breast. "I do love you. I love you with
all my heart."
He paused, his gray eyes
filled with emotion. "Oh, Mara," he whispered. "You know the
feeling is very, very mutual. I cannot remember when I have not loved
you."
There were tears in her
eyes. "When I raked my nails across your face?"
He shook his head.
"Not even then." He lifted himself so he was level with her gaze.
"But if it worries you so, then make amends to me."
She kissed his scabs, so
tenderly that Kirk could literally feel her reverence. "There," she
murmured. "Better?"
"Hmm, much."
He kissed her in return, gathering her against him once more. "And it
shall be better still."
Mara wrapped her legs
around his hips, feeling his arousal push at her. Kirk's hand was to her
breast, his lips against her forehead, her cheek, as he murmured words of love
and desire. With every caress, every kiss, the fire in her loins grew and she
thrust her pelvis forward, capturing the tip of his seeking manhood. Kirk
groaned, bracing himself, as he finished what she had started by pushing deep
into her body.
The first heavy thrust
rocked her. Mara gasped with pleasure, lifting her arms and grasping the
bedpost for support as he thrust into her again and again. She was slick with
passion, fully prepared to accept all of the maleness he had to offer.
"Harder,
Kirk," she breathed. "Do it... harder."
He nearly exploded, her
words of lust driving him to the brink. But he controlled himself, obeying her
command by pumping firmly into her responsive little body. Mara squirmed and
panted, lifting her pelvis to meet him, demanding pleasure only he could
supply.
The world rocked. Mara
could feel Kirk's hand on her breasts as he drove into her, pinching her
nipples into hard pellets. Her legs held him tight, squeezing him against her
as the heat of desire mounted.
Mara savored the
exquisite blaze in her loins, remembering how Kirk had so ably doused the fire
with his magical touch. And she wanted to experience the same pleasure again.
Releasing the bedpost, she pulled his mouth to her swollen lips.