Page 38 of Wild Hearts

"Perhaps it will be mine someday," he mused.

"It will be yours, it suits you so well," she said seriously.

"You too seem to fit the setting," he murmured, his eyes caressing her face.

The whole world had receded, along with everyone in it, as if he were the only man, she the only woman alive. With his eyes upon her, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think!

"The wine is making me quite giddy. Perhaps I should have something to eat." She knew it was Paris's close proximity making her giddy.

"We don't need to sit at the table. Let's eat here by the fire." He got up effortlessly to see to the food. "Let's see now, there's grouse, mutton, cheese, even plover's eggs. I'll give you some of each; you must try everything," he insisted. He brought a huge linen napkin and spread it on her lap, then handed her a heaping platter.

"I'll never eat all this," she protested.

"I hope not. Some of it's for me," he replied, sitting at her feet and helping himself with his fingers. They both enjoyed the informal meal immensely. It was filled with spills and laughter and feeding each other. When they had had enough, Paris put his head back against her chair and stretched his legs to the fire. "Thank you for indulging me. I have always wanted someone special to share things with. For years I have dreamed of a soul mate who cared about me more than any other person in the world. Someone who would worry about me while I was on a raid, who would run to me like a wild thing whenever I returned. One who would share my plate, my bed, my inner thoughts."

She said softly, "One you could share your fears with in the middle of the night?"

"I fear neither man nor beast."

"I do," she whispered. One tear ran down her cheek as she said hopelessly, "Paris, whatever am I to do about my husband?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "You are not to worry about it. We will get the marriage annulled, love. 'Tis a simple matter, really, seeing it was never consummated."

"You'll forget about the gold?" she beseeched softly.

He slowly took hold of her hands. "I'll take care of everything. There's no need for you to worry about anything or anyone."

"Oh, Paris, even if I had no husband, you are still wed to Anne," she persisted.

He raised her hands to his mouth. "Hush, love, don't distress yourself. I'll divorce her and send her back to Cardell. In truth, I won't be satisfied to have you as mistress. I want you for my wife as soon as I can be rid of her."

"Paris, promise me you won't do her any harm. We could not live with ourselves if we had her blood on our hands!" she cried, her eyes filled with apprehension.

"I could," he said simply, "but I don't suppose you could, my little lamb." He drew her down to his lap and held her against his heart. She trembled at his touch, her pulses beating so frantically, she could feel them in her wrists and temples and throat. As he held her secure and safe, without making further advances, her trembling quieted, and she began to relax in his warmth.

He lifted his goblet to her lips, then drank from the same place upon the rim her lips had touched. They drained the loving cup between them. He held her possessively, as if she would belong to him forever, and it soothed the emptiness she had always felt. His arms, so strong and protective; the fire, so warm and hypnotic--all lulled her into a state of drowsiness. She lay against him without moving and gazed, trance-like, into the flames. Very slowly, he began to brush back the tendrils from her forehead. His lips brushed her eyelids along her cheekbone until they found hers, then he fastened his mouth to hers in a kiss that brought her out of her drowsiness with a start.

"Tabrizia, will you be the one to share all things with me?" he begged hoarsely.

"Ah, yes," she breathed.

"Exchange vows with me now. Promise to be mine forever, forsaking all others."

"I promise, Paris, I promise."

He slipped the emerald from his hand and slid it onto her finger. The ring was much too large for her, so he slipped it onto her thumb and kissed the palm of her hand. Then his lips turned fierce, his hands became hard upon her body; indeed, everything about him turned suddenly hard. He removed her robe, and she saw the color of his eyes darken with desire at the revealing lavender silk. He tore the filmy garments easily with urgent hands, exposing her naked beauty to his eyes and mouth.

Alarmed, she began to struggle, for with sudden clarity she knew what he was about to do with her. He fastened his avid mouth to her breast, hurting the sensitive nipple in a flood of passion that he could not control. He had waited so long, longer than he'd ever waited for a woman before, that now all restraint was gone as his body sought the final goal.

As panic struck her, she cried, "Paris, please, you are hurting me!" She was frightened and tried to pull away from him, but he didn't even notice. He arose, still holding her, and carried her through the alcove to his bed. As she tried to speak, he covered her mouth with his, lost to everything but the overwhelming desire that threatened to engulf him. He placed her upon the bed and discarded his robe. She was up on her knees instantly, facing him, denying him. The impact of his muscular torso displayed so boldly shocked her senses so that every detail was seared into her brain. The massive shoulders blocked out the rest of the room; the thistle tattoo stood out in such relief, she felt it would prick her flesh. The pelt of dark red curls covered his chest, thinned out across his belly, then thickened again in a luxuriant growth that covered his groin. His shaft, thick and rigid, thrust upward and outward toward her, while a ridge of white scar tissue slashed him, thigh to knee.

She recoiled in horror. A trick of the light cast his shadow up the wall It was gigantic and menacing. Fear struck her heart. It was like a nightmare from the past where the monster came to devour her.

"No!" she cried.

"Yes," he asserted, and, reaching out, pulled her beneath him. Her beauty inflamed his senses to madness. She began to scream, and once again he fused his mouth to hers to quiet her and coax her into a giving mood. His mouth slid down against her throat, and he demanded thickly, "Let me love you, darling. Relax and give me all your sweetness."

"No, no, Paris! You are too big for me, you will hurt me, no, please stop," she begged.

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