Chapter Nine #3
Caledonia didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Do you think she would be willing to leave court?”
“She has been here for a few years,” he said, removing his belt and slinging it across the nearest chair. “It’s possible she would be pleased with a change of duties and a change of scenery. Besides… Darius is going with me. If she knows he’s going, she’ll want to come.”
“Darius?”
“The man she is in love with.”
Caledonia nodded in understanding. “She mentioned there was someone special,” she said. “From the House of de Winter?”
“A very powerful family that mostly resides in Norfolk,” he said, moving to remove his heavy tunic. “Do you know of them?”
“I confess that I do not.”
Thor loosened the laces on the blue tunic.
“A big family with several branches,” he said.
“Most families are like that. Mine certainly is. But de Winter has two main branches—Davyss de Winter, son of Grayson, who was Henry’s champion years ago, and then Hew de Winter and his sons, Darius and Dirk and Rafe.
Hew and Grayson were brothers. There are more de Winters scattered about, but those are the main branches of the family. ”
As he was talking, he’d pulled the tunic over his head, exposing his naked torso.
Caledonia found herself staring at him, hearing his voice but not hearing his words.
Everything seemed to get fuzzy and her face suddenly grew quite hot.
He had a magnificent chest, broad and powerful, and his arms were heavily muscled.
Even his shoulders and neck had muscles.
The man was, quite honestly, one of the most perfect specimens she’d ever seen—and given her regular visits to Gomorrah, she’d seen plenty.
“Caledonia? Callie?”
It occurred to her that he was calling her name. Speaking to her. She’d been so consumed with staring at the man’s naked flesh that she hadn’t heard him at first. Sheepishly, she tore her eyes away from his chest and looked him in the eye.
He grinned.
“Did I bore you too much with the de Winter lineage?” he asked.
She shook her head. Then she nodded. Flustered, she turned back to the garments on the table. “I am sorry,” she said. “I suppose I’m simply weary. It has been a long day and, I swear to you, I think I’m still a little drunk from last night.”
He laughed softly. “As I said, I think we both are,” he said. “But the way you were looking at me… you’re not going to ask me to dance, are you?”
Her cheeks flamed at the question but she couldn’t help but giggle. “It had not occurred to me,” she said. “But I will say that the last time a man in your state of undress danced for me, he removed everything and tried to seduce me. I assume that is what you are going to do, too?”
“Was he one of the forty-nine men you’ve taken to your bed?”
She burst out laughing, turning to look at him. “I really have not taken forty-nine men to my bed,” she said. “I only said that because you said you’d taken nineteen to your bed. I wanted to shock you.”
He was grinning. “I have a confession.”
“What?”
“I really have not taken nineteen women to my bed.”
“Then how many?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Do you really want to talk about now?”
She cocked her head curiously. “Why?” she said. “Are you ashamed?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said honestly. “But I shouldn’t think the subject of my past lovers would be of any interest to you.”
Caledonia pondered that statement for a moment. “I suppose it is not,” she said. “But I do want to know one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Will I be competing with a memory of a former love? Someone who has marked your heart?”
“Will I be competing with the same?”
“I asked you first.”
Thoughtfully, he sat down on the bed. “When El Martillo was in Zaragoza, he met a woman named Lenore,” he said, speaking of his alter ego.
“Lenore was the daughter of the man who had paid us a good deal of money to destroy a neighbor. Lenore was fiery and lovely and, in fact, reminds me of you a little. She was strong, like you. I admired that. But she was meant for another and that was disappointing. Did she mark my heart? She did. But I did not give it to her. I’ve not given it to anyone. ”
Caledonia appreciated the honest answer.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “I can truthfully tell you that there was one man in my life that I loved madly when I was fostering, but I was only eleven years of age and he was at least forty years, with a wife and sons and grandchildren, so there was no hope for me. I had so little love from my own father, and Sir Roland was so free with his hugs and kindness that it was natural I should love the man. I imagined we would marry someday in spite of his already having a wife, but his life was cut short when I was about thirteen years of age in a skirmish with some outlaws. It was an inglorious ending to a glorious man. It still makes me sad to think of it sometimes.”
Thor had a gentle smile on his lips. “But you honor him every time you think of him,” he said. “I promise you, a man who is well remembered will never die. He lives on as long as you speak of him.”
“Then he will live as long as I have breath in my body.”
Thor grinned. “That is a fine tribute,” he said. “But I must say I am glad he did not marry you. If he had, you would not be here now.”
“True,” Caledonia said, watching him pull both boots off and set them by the bed. “Should I undress now, too?”
He looked at her. “Would you like me to help you?” he said, indicating the garment she wore. “The ties are in the back.”
She nodded and turned around. He stood up from the bed and came up behind her, unlacing all of the careful ties his sister had put in place.
He could see the elegant nape of her neck, her alabaster skin, and his attraction to her was nearly overwhelming.
He didn’t want to seem overeager and scare her, not when she was already spooked, so he gently untied the back of her gown when he really wanted to yank it off her and explore what he had before him.
Damn, but the woman was fine.
“Would you like me to take the lead?” he said softly. “If you simply want to experience this moment and not do any of the work, I am happy to do what needs to be done. If you are comfortable with that.”
She turned around to look at him, the dress coming loose as she did.
“I know you are trying to be considerate,” she said, appearing a little nervous now that her clothes were coming off.
“I appreciate it, truly, but I have done this before. But I will be honest when I tell you that I took no pleasure with it.”
“Would you like me to show you pleasure?”
“Can you?”
His lips twitched with a smile. “I can,” he said. “I will if you will let me.”
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Very well,” she said. “What do I need to do?”
His smile broke through and he moved so that he was standing in front of her, gazing down at her.
“You need to promise me that whatever I do, you’ll simply let me do it,” he said.
“I promise that I will not hurt you and if you are uncomfortable, you can tell me to stop, but if you are brave—and willing—just let me do what I want to do.”
It didn’t seem unreasonable. Considering this had been a dreaded duty her entire married life with Robert, she wasn’t entirely sure that Thor could show her any pleasure, but she was willing to let him try.
He’d not lied to her yet, but more than that, she was quite attracted to him.
His close proximity made her cheeks heat up and her heart race.
That had never happened with Robert, so perhaps this would be different.
It was yet one more chance she was willing to take with him.
With resignation, she nodded.
Thor didn’t hesitate. He grasped her arms and steered her toward the bed, laying her back on the mattress with incredible gentleness.
Once she was flat on her back, looking up at him with some apprehension, he slanted his mouth over hers—gently at first, but with growing passion when he realized how sweet she tasted.
True to her agreement, Caledonia simply lay there and let him kiss her.
She might have even kissed him back.
That emboldened him.
The dress had to come off. With his mouth fixed to hers, he pulled it down in one big yank, pulling it off her feet and lowering his big body on hers.
She still had a shift on, a thin linen sheath, and his hands stroked her arms, her shoulder, before moving to her breasts.
They were round and full, quite succulent under the shift, which was nearly transparent because it was so fine.
His mouth left hers, blazing a trail of kisses down her neck, to her chest, before he moved to her left breast. He kissed it through the fabric before finally clamping his hot mouth on her taut nipple.
Suckling her through the fabric nearly brought her off the bed, but not because she was frightened.
Because she liked it.
Their passion was gaining momentum by the moment. The more he suckled and probed her breasts, the more she writhed beneath him and the more aroused he became. Her response was innate, inexperienced, and honest. It only served to excite them even more.
At some point, she stopped simply lying there and letting him do as he wished.
Her arms came up, going around him as he suckled her.
He could feel her hands timidly touching him, knowing she was feeling what he was feeling, and he smiled as he continued to suckle.
He’d hoped to awaken her a little and could see that he was succeeding.
Caledonia’s apprehension seemed to be gone as she arched shamelessly against his mouth, her body wanting to experience all he had to offer.
It was everything she had been denied for all of these years.
She had no idea that a touch could be so sweet, a kiss so tender.
She wanted more.