Authors: Denise A. Agnew
DarykCraving (2 page)
“Jumping into the moat?” He shook his head. “It isn’t the
first time. That damn railing keeps breaking. I’ll cut off the balls of that
cretin who promised to use good wood this last time.”
The dark thunderhead growled and rain began pelting them
with force.
They struggled up the muddy bank and through the vines to
the clearing. Gate guards had come down to the broken drawbridge railing. Marc
ordered the men to have someone repair the damage immediately after the storm
subsided.
Marc clasped both women by the arms and hurried them along.
“Come.”
“My shawls,” Tamina said. “I must have them.”
They grabbed up the shawls and made their way toward the
inside of the castle.
In the courtyard, the rain still came down, and many people
still rushed to shelter in the great hall or in other gathering rooms Marc made
available to the masses when storms hit. They stopped just inside the main
entrance with the huge stone arch hovering over them.
Tamina beamed at Marc. “Thank you, Master.”
“My great pleasure.” He returned the young girl’s smile.
“Are you sure you don’t need to see the healer?”
“Not at all, sir. I am quite sure I would have been fine
even you hadn’t jumped in. I am a good swimmer.”
He nodded. “Be that as it may, I didn’t know that. I’ve run
into quite a few women who can’t swim a damn.” He glanced at Aknada, and it
reminded her of an embarrassing situation several years ago. Damn him.
Tamina, shawls in hand, left with a grin and a wave and
moved toward her friends.
Aknada turned her disapproving gaze on him. “Come on, it’s
off to the healer for you.”
“I’m well enough.”
She shook her head as a new anger grew. “Do not defy me on
this.”
He took a step toward her, and that brought his big, muscled
body near. She sucked in a breath, half expecting her body’s usual reaction of
overwhelming panic when a man stepped too near, too quickly. Instead, she
marveled at how commanding and strong he looked, even when dripping wet, his
hair a tangle around his strong features.
His gaze danced over her face, and when his voice came, it
was a low, soft rumble that skated across her skin like a caress. A very wanted
and needed caress. “Worried about me?”
She opened her mouth to retaliate and couldn’t think at all.
It took her a moment too long, and when he started to chuckle, she almost
cracked him in the jaw.
“I think I like that,” he said quietly.
But even low and soft, his voice sounded intimate and as if
he were stroking a woman into submission.
His voice echoed inside her, doing strange things to her
that she couldn’t define. She found her voice but it was shaky. “What?”
“I like you being worried about me.”
Anger replaced her concern. “You could have torn your wound
open jumping in after Tamina. What were you thinking?”
He shook his head. “Hopefully saving Tamina. You don’t swim,
remember?”
“I could if I had to.”
He sniffed. “I was not assured of that. All I remember is—”
“Stop. I don’t want to remember. Don’t you dare remind me of
that time you tried to give me a swimming lesson. It was a complete disaster.”
“So it was. Why do you insist on being embarrassed by things
that happened when you were so young?”
She poked his chest with her index finger. “Because I was a
fool then. I trusted too much. I trusted you.”
Amusement played with his lips, and her gaze fell on that
mouth with a hunger that rocked her.
“You cannot hide from me, Aknada.” His gaze turned serious
and intent.
“Of course I can. I’m not the same woman you knew three
years ago.”
“There are parts of you that are the same. Beautiful and
wonderful parts I refuse to believe are destroyed.”
She flushed, felt the heat rising in her cheeks and wanted to
cover her face with her cool palms.
She covered her discomfort and made a
tsking
sound in
her throat. “Other than Rayder, you have to be the most stubborn,
pain-in-the-arse man I know.”
“So you’ve told me many times.” He winked, heat mixing with
joviality. “Or have you forgotten?”
When she didn’t speak, his expression fell a little. As if
he expected something she wouldn’t provide. He might be dripping wet, but he
still managed to appear strong, fearless and more masculine than any man she’d
known.
“Come,” he finally said. “If you’re concerned about my
wound, you can check it for me.”
Chapter Two
Aknada wondered if she should do this. She followed Marc
through the mob of people in the great two-story entrance. Light filtered in
from a window high above, and despite the blackish clouds outside, she felt
safe in the room with so many people. If she left it, if she went to another
room and found herself completely alone with a man—well, that was another thing
altogether.
Ahead of her lay the huge central staircase that spread out
at the top into two wings. Coming down the massive steps was a female figure,
graceful and tall. Bavarda Himalan. The woman’s garment, a long tunic that
reached to mid-calf, was flowing, filmy and pure white with the barest hint of
gold threading. She seemed to float down the staircase, her thin body
accommodating the angelic way she came down the steps. She had a narrow face to
match, but it was still striking. She smiled and no one could deny she had
great appeal. Men wanted her, and from the tales Aknada heard, they had the
woman often. But men who wanted her had better be able to afford her cost.
Bavarda was an expensive and greedy whore with tricks up her sleeves aplenty.
Many a man, according to Xandra, had found himself without money and sometimes
without a dick if Bavarda decided to snap it off with her teeth. Apparently
Bavarda had earned her nasty reputation well when she’d taken Farcam’s and
Oscan’s cocks and tossed them out the window. The men would never be the same
and had almost died. When Rayder had explained how the men had treated Xandra
on the ship, Marc had banished the eunuchs from the property.
Aknada’s stomach tumbled. If there was one person who never
made her feel comfortable, it was Bavarda and her arrogant, haughty expression
and airs. Her long, blonde hair was thicker and smoother than Aknada’s
out-of-control tumble. And Bavarda coveted Marc without modesty or pretense.
Aknada’s blood boiled at the thought. God Draconus forgive her, but Aknada
wanted to peel the woman’s hide.
Xandra Shorenus Tyrus descended the steps behind Bavarda,
and when she saw Aknada, she smiled brightly. Xandra’s blue eyes sparkled with
amusement. Her beautiful red-blonde hair lay in a fringe across her forehead
and flowed over her shoulders in thick waves. She was younger than Aknada, but
then Aknada often felt older than time. Her experiences seem to have carved
themselves into her skin and bones.
Xandra passed Bavarda at a quick pace and gave both Marc and
Aknada a hug.
“Someone ran up to my room and said you’d both almost
drowned,” Xandra said, her eyes bright and worried. “I thought you couldn’t
swim, Aknada.”
Aknada sighed. “I can paddle around with a feebleness that
is most painful to see. Other than that…I cannot swim. A strange affliction for
a Daryk One, no?”
Marc laughed. “A feckin’ damn exaggeration. You know to
never believe half of what people say around here. Not only did we not drown,
Aknada didn’t even get wet.” He threw her a teasing glance.
“Rumors of our demise are highly exaggerated,” Aknada said
with a smile.
“Thank Magon.” Xandra sighed and smiled. “The storms are
awful. They’re keeping me awake.”
“You really should go back to sleep and rest.” Aknada
sometimes worried about her new friend’s health. With Rayder gone, Xandra
didn’t have anyone to look out for her.
Xandra stepped away. “With everyone coming in out of the
storms, I’ll need to help get beds set up. It doesn’t sound like this storm is
going to leave soon.”
Xandra was right. For a few moments Aknada had ignored the
storm, but thunder seemed to roll continuously, and lightning sent harsh light
dancing against the walls. Xandra hurried away and left them with Bavarda.
Maybe Xandra didn’t care for the woman either.
Bavarda stopped in front of Aknada, her sharp features, cool
green eyes and blonde hair giving her an angelic appearance the woman hadn’t
earned. The woman took in Aknada as if she lacked something essential.
“Darling, you have been working your muscles like a man. I thought I told you
ease up on that. Men just don’t want women who can pick them up.”
“Good afternoon to you as well, Bavarda.” Aknada brushed by
the woman as quickly as possible, but Marc’s chuckle stopped her.
Marc stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Bavarda, I don’t
want to hear any more rumors of men missing their cocks. It’s bad for your
business. Cease or I’ll have to ban you from the compound.”
The woman frowned, but it was more a pout that emphasized
the lush lines of her red lips than real disapproval. Bavarda trailed her hand
down his arm and ended at his fingers. She brought his big hand to her mouth
and kissed the back. “My dear Master, you know I’d never do anything to
displease you.”
Aknada bristled as the woman pressed Marc’s hand to her
right breast. He drew back immediately, but that didn’t stop Aknada from
wanting to slap the whore silly.
Marc shook his head and started up the stairs. “You heard
me, Bavarda. Keep your hands on the men’s cocks if you want, but leave your
teeth out of it.”
Bavarda’s laugh—a cackle really—reminded Aknada of an old
woman with a pointy nose and a bad temper who had been housed near her on
Aramus’ slave ship three years ago.
As Marc came alongside Aknada, she threw him a doubtful
glance. “Are you sure that woman isn’t a danger?”
Marc threw her an unsure glance as they proceeded up the
staircase. “No, but then I cannot be sure about that with anyone here, can I?”
Her fingers smoothed over the dark wood railing, her boots
tapping against the solid stone steps. “You can count on me.”
Why had she said that?
Marc laughed softly. “I know. You are the most reliable of
people.”
His phrase went straight to her heart and warmed it. “Thank
you.”
He didn’t speak while they finished climbing the stairs. She
glanced around the structure. So many times when she and Rayder were children,
they visited here. When times had seemed simple and complete. Of course no time
was simple or complete. Time faded memory enough to make everyone forget.
“This place is still beautiful,” she said softly as they
reached the landing.
He turned, and she couldn’t help but take in his height. She
was tall, but he was taller, and the breadth of his shoulders made her feel
small. Almost delicate. Something she’d never felt around another man. She
hated it. Not that he was larger than her, but that she felt vulnerable. She
wanted desperately to erase the unreasonable fear. She knew Marc wouldn’t hurt
her, and yet her fear of men ran deep.
Those eyes, so blue and as mysterious as the Protican Ocean,
warmed. “Thank you. My father would be proud, I would hope.” He winked. “Hurry
up. We have wasted much time getting here.”
He headed to the left, passed several doors on the landing
and reached double, dark wood doors belonging to his chambers. She’d never been
in there before, not even when she’d visited as a girl.
“Are you certain about this?” she asked with a breathy need
to pull in air.
He turned and looked her quizzically. “What is it?”
“Your room?”
For a moment he looked confused then his gaze cleared. “Ah,
I see. You are concerned people will talk if you are in there alone with me.”
He nodded and placed his hands on his hips. “As well they might.” His eyes
turned serious. “You know I would never harm you.”
She nodded.
Marc opened his bedchamber door and gestured for Aknada to
enter. “After you.”
She hesitated just long enough to signal more discomfort.
“I am sorry.” He held up both hands. “If you would prefer to
check my wound in more neutral territory—”
“Do not be ridiculous.” She waved one hand, not willing to
show additional weakness. She stepped into his chambers and he followed her.
“You need dry clothes.”
“What about you? You’re not exactly dry yourself.”
“Merely damp. I can change when I return to my room.”
With a nod, he walked past her to a huge dark wood wardrobe
where she guessed he housed his clothing. She glanced around his quarters,
impressed by the size and grandeur of the rooms. But they weren’t really his
taste. His father had liked the grandiose and made certain the entire compound
hinted at opulence.
The huge bed against the far north wall was simple, but
several pillows graced the head. Two small windows shaped in a quatrefoil
allowed murky sunlight to spill into the room. Rain splashed the glass. A flash
of lightning followed by a crash of thunder made her jump. A table near the windows
caught her attention, and she wandered toward it. A book sat between two large
candlesticks. Surprise and a wave of pleasure engulfed her when she recognized
a volume of her poetry. Only a few copies had ever been made. She didn’t know
he’d purchased one. A bookshelf along the south wall featured many other books.
Why was this one by itself?
Clutching the book in her hands, a smile ready on her face,
she turned and stopped cold. Marc stood next to the bed, facing away from her.
He pulled the tunic over his head, revealing his naked back.
Broad, muscular shoulders moved with power. But it wasn’t
only the strength that shocked her. A pattern of scars, slightly pink and
raised, crisscrossed his back.
“Marc.” She gasped his name softly, horrified.
He turned quickly, his dark brows a slash over his concerned
gaze. If she thought his back took her by surprise, she also wasn’t ready for
the rest of him. Dressed only in his fitted trousers and knee boots, he took
her breath away. She’d always known a strong body resided under all those
clothes, but she wasn’t ready for the reality. She’d never seen him without his
shirt. Over the years, she’d seen him cutting wood and building things, but
never without a shirt.