Flame (30 page)

“So after the fire, with no one in a position
of authority, no one to punish the man’s villainy, the priest just
stayed put. And all along, you also knew that he had remained.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Iris and the
unborn bairn were dead, and I had other matters to concern me.”

Gavin’s eyes bore into hers and she
frowned.

“Nay,” she said in answer to his unspoken
question. “He is too weak--too cowardly a creature ever to commit a
crime of such magnitude.”

“He was about to lose everything he had,”
Gavin argued.

She stubbornly shook her head, rolled onto
her back, and stared at the blackened ceiling. “Hurting my
father...nay, ‘tis too far-fetched, too unbelievable when you think
of the man. But even if we consider it, killing half a household,
and the woman he loved along with them...”

“Bedded, Joanna,” he corrected. “The priest
may have bedded her, but we have no idea of what feelings, if any,
he harbored for the lass. As far as we know, he may have bedded
every other serving woman in this keep.”

Joanna’s beautiful face turned suddenly on
the pillow, and the look in her eyes went straight to his heart.
His tone had been harsh and the vulnerability of their situation
was clearly reflected in her face. He gently framed her face in his
palm as he lifted himself on his elbow.

“You are the only woman in my life, Joanna,”
he said thickly. “Not in my past nor in the future has there been,
or could there ever be, one so well matched to my heart and
soul.”

She ran a hand down the side of his face
before speaking out softly. “I love you, Gavin. And I want you
always to remember how I feel for you now.”

“Now?” he teased gently, fighting back the
words that he knew she wanted to hear. “And are you planning to
hate me tomorrow?”

She pressed the heel of her hand onto his
sore shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Moving quickly on top
of him, she gazed down into his eyes with a playfully warlike
look.

“Well, you have me in your power, lass. I can
see I will have to do anything you ask.” He eyed the swells of her
breasts pressing on his chest. His hands slid over her lower back
and cupped her firm buttocks, shifting her slightly as his
hardening member nestled tightly between her legs. “Anything,” he
growled.

“Perhaps we should speak to the priest,” she
said absently, sliding her body over his and eliciting a groan. She
pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat, then raised her head
abruptly. “Not that I think the man guilty of the killings. But
still, ‘tis only proper making him understand that we are aware of
his past. That he might still need to own up to his responsibility
for his past.”

Gavin’s mind tried to follow her words, but
his body was quickly taking control. The way she lifted herself off
his chest, her swollen nipple waiting, beckoning to his lips.
Rolling her roughly onto her back, he moved on top of her and took
both of her breasts in his large palms and ran his thumbs over
them.

“I want to...be with you.” She arched her
back as his lips descended. “I want to be there...when you question
him.”

“Fair enough,” he breathed, lifting his head
and smiling mischievously into her flushed face before eyeing the
next breast. “Once I find him.”

“Is he missing?” she said softly, hooking her
feet behind his thighs. Her hand slipped between their bodies, and
Gavin groaned again deep in his throat as he felt it close around
his manhood.

“Since yesterday.” He bent his head and laved
her other breast before taking it sharply into his mouth. When he
pulled back, the sight of her arched neck, the passionate clouding
in her eyes, all brought a satisfied smile to his face. “For some
reason, Joanna, just looking at you, makes me lose all interest in
the cur.”

A devilish smile tugged at her full lips as
she drew his arousal to her moist opening. “So he has been missing
since we came up from the caverns.”

“The two could be related.”

She lifted her knees and wiggled beneath him.
She was teasing him, and he mustered all his control to hold back.
He probed the entry lightly. He was in control.

“But what I’m trying to understand...” Gavin
found himself speaking though clenched teeth. He could hold out
longer. He was in control. “...that...I was...He was...”

The warrior chief breathed in sharply as her
hands kneaded his lower back, pulling him, coaxing him to drive
into her. Sweat was beading on his brow. Control. He attempted to
finish his thought. He was...

Gavin gazed into her face and Joanna’s tongue
slipped along her parted lips.

“He was...” Gavin began again, but his mind
had gone blank.

“You think...?” Joanna stopped, her gasp
turning into a moan as Gavin drove deeply into her.

Control be damned, he thought, feeling her
tighten around his throbbing manhood.

“He ran,” Gavin started in a ragged
voice.

Struggling against the wild urge to draw back
and drive into her, again and again, he wrapped his hands around
her and rolled them together on the bed until she was astride him.
As she lifted her head, her silken hair draped like a golden
blanket to one side.

“Nice view from up here,” she murmured.

“You are a Highland lass, to be sure,” he
growled.

Her mouth descended onto his, and he kissed
her--deeply, thoroughly. She drew back, breathless, and Gavin felt
his breath catch in his throat as her hips ground into him.

“I have already sent my men out...in search
of him.” Gavin took hold of her hips and lifted, causing her to
glide the full length of his member, his tongue finding her nipple
at the top of the stroke. Her gasp of pleasure only encouraged him
to repeat the action. “We should...find him...” He couldn’t finish,
as she took charge, riding him.

Her body arched at the moment of her release,
and Gavin felt her tighten like a sheath around him. As she cried
out in ecstasy, the last vestiges of his control exploded in a
fireball of passion. There was no holding back--there was only the
need to pour his seed into her.

“Joanna!” he called out, rolling her onto the
bed beneath him. As she clung to him, a few fierce strokes
completed the task, leaving them both panting and spent.

They lay there side by side for a long while,
wrapped in one another’s arms, the night soft and sweet around
them. She was the first one to speak, and her eyes sparkled as they
looked into his.

“I think there are quite a few
more
members of the household that we need to discuss. ‘Tis our
responsibility, Gavin.”

With a rumbling laugh, Gavin rolled her onto
her back. “True enough, Joanna. And I suppose there is no better
time to begin than now!”

He had to go down there.

He had heard it in her words last night.
Joanna had her own plans regarding the dispensing of justice to the
women she held responsible for her parents death. And Gavin was
certain it involved that underground crypt.

With the priest still gone and Athol not
completely recovered from his injuries, the laird knew that he had
to rely on his own memory and find his way back to Hell’s Gate.

Padding through the underground passages,
Gavin felt certain he would find the crypt. He would find it as
surely as he would eventually find his way through the secrets of
Ironcross Castle’s past. And he was driven to find the truth...the
only truth that Joanna continued to hold back from him. The truth
she felt the need to die for.

Well, she would not die. He would not let
her.

Half an hour later, Gavin held his torch
before him and peered into the vaulted chamber of the crypt.

**

He had a death grip on her hand.

Joanna once again tried to work herself out
of his grasp, but his grip on her only tightened. This was it, she
thought decisively. No further. The Old Keep was as far as she
intended to go. If he gave her half a chance, she would escape.
Back to the safety of her chamber.

Gavin’s reproachful glare told him that she
had no chance.

Joanna glared back at him defiantly. It was
bad enough that he was forcing her to take her meals in the Great
Hall, a host of curious eyes watching her every move, her every
mouthful; now he was going to physically drag her out into the
brilliant sunshine of the late spring morning. He was a
monster.

She was still resolved to go through with her
plan at the next full moon, and knowing that held her back. Death
was looking her in the face, and Joanna knew it would hurt her to
engage in any more of life’s little pleasures.

The memories were quite vivid. Strolling in
the sun. Feeling the whip of the wind against your cheek. Breathing
fresh, heather-scented air. Aye, she thought. She had her memories.
They would suffice.

Gavin yanked once again on her hand, and
Joanna turned and glowered at him. How could he be so damnably
persistent? He was ruining everything she had planned. She had
hardly had a moment alone to herself. She still needed to return to
the vault and make certain her original plans remained undisturbed.
But Gavin seemed determined not to give her a chance to do so.

Of course, the way she had been spending her
nights caused her no complaints, Joanna thought wickedly. She
continued to go to him and join him in his bed. But her days! If
she weren’t answering Athol’s endless queries, Gavin had her
involved with the renovation of the south wing. Should we have a
door here? What about bringing a glazier up from Edinburgh to put
in windows? What about the fireplaces? The questions went on and
on.

“For someone who is so conscious about not
bringing attention to herself, you have certainly managed to draw a
crowd.”

She turned and looked in the direction that
he indicated. By the door leading to the Great Hall, a nosy gaggle
of servants and soldiers were all peering curiously after her.

“If you would stop being so stubborn, and
simply let me choose my time...”

He shook his head with a smile. “You have had
your chance, lass, and done nothing about it.” He tugged again on
her hand, and his face took on a menacing edge. “Come with me,
Joanna, before I
carry
you outside. Though I’m really
looking forward to giving them a sight to remember.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

He cocked an eyebrow and took a step toward
her. There was no question in her mind that he would make good on
his threat.

“You’re an oaf!” she cried, tearing her hand
out of his grip as she swept by him and out the door.

The courtyard bustled with the noise and
activity of builders, warriors, stablemen, and others--all engaged
in their crafts--and Joanna stopped abruptly on the top step
leading down from the great door of the Old Keep. The pleasure she
felt at that moment was as astounding as it was immediate.

The velvet hand of the sun touched her skin,
wrapping her in its warmth. Closing her eyes and remaining on the
step, Joanna filled her lungs with the smells of the day. Gavin’s
large hand caressed the small of her back, and her eyes opened to
the sight of his handsome face. He towered over her.

“This is only the start, lass,” he said in a
low voice.

Taking her again by the hand, he started down
the steps. By the stables, she could see two saddled horses.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I thought a bit of a ride would be
pleasant.” He accepted a traveling cloak from a waiting serving
woman and wrapped it around Joanna’s shoulders. This gesture of
concern brought a smile to her lips.

Letting her eyes roam the courtyard as they
crossed to the stables, Joanna took in everything. This was all so
different, she thought. Yesterday, one of Gavin's men, a giant
warrior by the name of Andrew, had returned from Elgin with a crew
of stonemasons, carpenters, and other craftsmen, as well as a
boisterous legion of apprentices. Since then, the noise and
activity in the castle had doubled. She paused for a moment,
watching two young men hoisting a load of slate to the roof.

As much as she had tried, it was difficult
for Joanna to close her mind to the excitement that surrounded her.
Gavin had continued to talk about the future of Ironcross and about
their lives together as husband and wife. She had remained fairly
silent, steadfast in her insistence on living only for the
present.

When they reached the horses, Gavin lifted
her effortlessly into her saddle. Joanna looked about her. “What
did you have to do to John Stewart to keep him from joining
us?”

“I had him gagged and thrown into one of the
new pits we are digging in the kirkyard. Easy, Paris,” he said,
steadying his own huge horse.

“Is the good earl wearing on you?”

“I am a patient man, but the winsome creature
is overstaying his welcome.” He swatted her horse on the flank, and
they both started off toward the open gate. “In fact, if he is not
over this feigned injury of his by the end of the week, I will
strap his damned carcass onto his horse and let his men drag him
back to Balvenie Castle!”

The image of the tall, haughty Highlander
being manhandled by Gavin brought a smile to her lips. Turning, she
found his eyes on her.

“He thinks he is playing chaperon to us,” he
growled as they rode out into the open. Down the hill, the roofs of
small, nearly deserted village could be seen, but Gavin turned his
horse to the right, along base of the castle wall. “And I am tired
of having him question every moment we spend in each other’s
company.”

She giggled.

“What are you laughing at?”

“I wonder how he would feel about our
midnight visits, if he were to learn of them.”

A slow smile tugged at his lips as his gaze
lowered lingeringly on her breasts. A shiver of excitement prickled
her skin.