Page 72 of The Raven and the Rose
“Thank you, Mr. Burke.”
“And just to be on the safe side, I chose a room for you in the east wing”—he coughed discreetly again—“for when you wish to be alone.”
Kate Kendall sniffed loudly. Roseanna, ignoring her disapproval, winked broadly at Mr. Burke and said, “Becky and I will sleep there tonight. You may show me the room, Mr. Burke.”
It was lovely, indeed. It was done in white, pink, and burgundy; she silently marveled at Ravenspur’s taste. Was there no end to the surprises he always managed to give her?
She sent a cool note to her husband that stated that she realized he would be occupied on his first night home and that she would take a tray in her chamber and retire early.
Roger was annoyed when he read it. He hated it when she threw up barriers between them. He’d rather by far have a knock-down, drag-out fight in which they hurled vile insults at each other, got things off their chests, and cleared the air. He was torn both ways and hesitated. He knew he’d made a tactical error in letting her sleep alone when they were first married, and he didn’t want a repeat performance. Yet she’d had a hard two days’ journey on horseback, and in her condition he wanted her to have a good rest.
His heart always won where Roseanna was concerned. He’d leave her in peace tonight, but tomorrow he’d lay down the law and move her into his bed, where she belonged. Damn, thinking of her always produced an immediate physical response, and though he could control it to a degree, he was left with a taut ache in his loins for hours.
If he had seen the wild romping Roseanna was doing with Becky when he left her to rest, he would have been more than annoyed. They were playing a game of tag, and the puppy was dashing around like a mad furry ball. When they were exhausted, she took the greatest pleasure in bathing Becky and putting her in the big bed. Kate brought Roseanna a tray that groaned beneath the number of dishes upon it. She shared her meal with the child, both of them eating with their fingers and giggling with every mouthful. At last Roseanna was ready to retire, so Alice brushed all the tangles from her hair and helped her to bed. Then they sat for hours talking about the Queen and the Court and the things Roseanna had seen in London.
When daylight arrived, Roger had not yet closed his eyes. He had passed one of the worst nights of his life. Two days in the saddle usually guaranteed a good night’s rest, but apart from Roseanna he was like a dog separated from its meat. The entire night, desire had ridden him with cruel spurs. He was more than ready for a confrontation.
He pulled on dark hose and boots and a white linen shirt and walked a direct path to Roseanna’s room. What he saw arrested his attention immediately. His wife, clad in a silk nightrail, romped around the bed with Becky and the puppy until it was in shambles.
His face softened as he watched his beautiful wife playing with the child. He thought he’d never seen a lovelier picture. Roseanna lay on her back and was lifting Becky above her at arm’s length. She said, laughing, “I want a little girl just like you.”
“I want a son,” Roger interjected. They both became aware of his tall, dark figure leaning against the door-jamb.
“Come and play with us, Uncle Roger,” begged Becky. Roseanna was never more surprised in her life when he dove onto the bed and teased, “How’s my old ticklebones this morning?”
The child squealed with delight, and the little dog barked excitedly. Becky was almost helpless with laughter and giggled, “Don’t tickle the puppy. It’ll pee on the bed!”
“What?” he cried in mock outrage. “Haven’t you taken the little beast outside to pee yet?” He lifted Becky from the bed and set her on her feet. “Hurry, take it out,” he urged
“Ask Alice to take you,” called Roseanna after the disappearing child. She was kneeling on the bed, flushed a delicate pink from her exertions. Roger lay back across the bed and looked up at her.
“I thought you disliked children—or is it only my children you are averse to?” she asked, her mouth pouting with the hurt she felt.
Roger’s blood began to pound and surge. His senses were filled with her. The fragrance of her warm woman’s body assaulted his nostrils; his eyes devoured her breasts, which swelled from the silken nightgown. Her pouting mouth filled his mind with wildly erotic images of the uses to which he could put it.
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her above him. “Every single time I’ve made love to you, I’ve had to seduce you. Must it always be so?” he demanded hoarsely. His lust was so hot for her, it blotted out all thoughts. Swiftly he tumbled her to the bed and held her beneath him. Her soft breasts pressed into his hard chest, and her nightgown was twisted around her waist exposing her long, slim legs.
She struggled frantically to free herself, but his strength was unyielding. His eyes gleamed triumphantly before his mouth swooped to hers. His senses reeled with the feel of her soft, exciting, provocative mouth, and he explored it thoroughly.
Roseanna’s struggles increased. But her body wanted to cling to him and let him have his way with her. Damn him, not only did she have to fight him, but now she had to fight herself.
Suddenly Becky was on the bed again, wanting to join in the game and climbing onto Roger’s back. Alice stood watching as if struck dumb. Slowly, he came to his senses and released his iron grip on Roseanna. He sat back, panting from the intimate encounter. Roseanna arose shakily and said, “Excuse me, my lord. I’m going for my bath.” She retreated into the adjoining bathroom with all possible speed. Alice scurried after her.
The child looked at Roger with wide eyes. “Why are you angry, Uncle Roger?”
“I’m not angry, sweetheart. ’Tis just a game we are playing. Roseanna runs from me so that I will chase her.”
In the bathroom Roseanna handed her nightgown to Alice. She was about to step into the bath when Becky’s voice cried excitedly to her, “Run quick, Roseanna! Uncle Roger is coming to catch you! Run, run!”
Roseanna heard and obeyed. She fled from the room and ran naked along the hallway. Roger shot after her in full pursuit. She came to the stairway and descended quickly, knowing it was her only escape. He didn’t catch her until she reached the second floor, where he picked her up. Half a dozen servants looked on openmouthed.
She struggled like a wildcat. Her soft body rubbed against his as she twisted and turned. Like a man intoxicated, he took her mouth and drank from it. Slowly he mounted the stairs; his mouth was fused to hers, and he reveled in the feel of her body as her breasts brushed warmly against his naked chest where his shirt hung open. From the second floor up to the third and then to the fourth, he held her thrashing thighs with one strong arm. Her buttocks rubbing against his hard groin made him dizzy with pure sensual pleasure.
In spite of herself, Roseanna found it exciting to be carried in his strong arms, his hard body holding her captive. His kisses had a drugging effect on her at first; then, as he continued kissing her hungrily, taking her inexorably up to his bed, his mouth never leaving hers, her coldness toward him melted forever. Her fingers curled possessively into his dark hair, and she pressed his head closer to hers as her mouth accepted his with a soft moan. Then he was lifting her onto the high bed.
His blood sang joyfully that she was responding to him. They both gave themselves up to the dark magic world they created whenever they came together. He eased his big body between her thighs and slipped his hands beneath her hips to lift her to him; then with stunning intensity her hot body opened to him, stretching to take the full, hard length of him. His hands held her prisoner while he drove deeply into her silken softness; his mouth filled hers in the same relentless rhythm as his body filled hers. She responded wildly, wantonly, and arched her body to meet his every thrust, finally reaching her peak and sobbing softly with the release it brought. Roger tightened his hold, and his movements became almost violent as he too took his shuddering release.
Time stood still. She knew irrevocably that she had fallen in love with her husband and that it was the greatest love she would ever know.
