Forbidden Love (23 page)

Upstairs in the family quarters, it was very quiet Only a faint light shone from the room she shared with Colin. Opening the door softly, Roanna had to bite back a peal of laughter. Caught in the act of relaxing in a tub of steaming hot water, her lord looked up in dismay, only to settle back promptly when he realized who was at the door.

In the dim candlelight of the chamber, his skin glowed like polished bronze. Thick coppery curls clung to his massive chest. His freshly washed hair hung damply around his broad shoulders. A long, pointed moustache framed the sensual mouth that was drawn in a far tighter line than usual.

"I thought it might be one of the servants," he admitted ruefully. "Wouldn't do to let them know I'm still hurting."

Roanna nodded understanding. Her brow furled as she took in the lingering evidence of his struggle with FitzStephen. Livid bruises marred the smooth bronze expanse of his shoulders and arms. Angry abrasions shone along his furried chest and powerful thighs. He moved gingerly, owing to the strain of pulled muscle and sinew. Before everyone else, he felt compelled to hide his discomfort and maintain an indomitable air. But with her he could let down his guard and admit that the contest had cost him dear. Neither, had to point out that but for his vast strength and agility, the price would have been far higher.

Kneeling beside the tub, Roanna reached for the small keg of soap. Gently, she massaged his corded back, arms, and chest. Her hands lingered on each bulging muscle and flat, hard plane. Colin's eyes drifted closed as a soft sigh of contentment escaped him. But his sense of ease turned to something very different as Roanna's soft, skillful touch drifted down his flat abdomen toward the thick nest of hair where his burgeoning manhood lay.

Her breath became tight and rapid as she stroked his steely thighs before rubbing lather over his heavily muscled calves and long, slender feet Cupping handfuls of water, she rinsed him carefully, heedless of the fact that her snug-fitting tunic was splashed in the process. By the time she finished, her nipples shone tautly through the thin fabric.

Shakily, she held out a towel for Colin. He stepped from the tub, streams of water flowing off his huge, supremely male body. His molten silver gaze locked on her as Roanna reached up to dry his head. The motion further strained the silk over her high, pouting breasts. He could clearly see the outline of hardened peaks surrounded by generous aureoles, whose velvet smoothness beckoned his touch.

Though he bent over to give her easier access, she still had to stand on tiptoe to reach him. Briskly drying his hair, Roanna continued on to brush the clinging droplets from his shoulders and chest But before she got more than midway down his torso, Colin's big hands seized hers.

"Enough, my lady," he growled. "The heat you've sparked will dry me from within!"

Laughing throatily, she allowed the towel to be taken from her. It was tossed forgotten in a corner of the room as Colin reached for his wife. Arching her back over his arm, he gently nuzzled her breasts before his mouth closed on a straining nipple. Through the thin fabric, his tongue flicked over it again and again.

Roanna moaned helplessly. Her hands clung to his massive shoulders as waves of pleasure rippled through her. When he at last raised his head, she was panting and her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. Determined that she would not be the only one to feel such acute pleasure, she straightened against him. A soft, teasing smile curved her lips as she brushed them lingeringly against his. For just a moment, their eyes met Colin's gaze held a challenge she could not resist

Trailing scalding kisses down the long expanse of his chest Roanna slowly sank to her knees before him. Her small hands kneaded and stroked the hard contours of his thighs and buttocks. Not until she had wrung a groan of desperate need from him did her petal-soft fingertips at last brush against the pulsating fullness of his manhood.

Drawing out her own anticipation to the utmost her soft pink tongue slowly followed the path of her touch. Colin's big hands tangled in her hair as he trembled convulsively. Only after she had fully savored him did Roanna finally allow herself to be drawn upward into her husband's arms.

The damp tunic was swiftly stripped away. Her skin shone against his darkness like cream sweetened by the faintest drop of honey. Laid on the bed, she welcomed him joyfully. Colin delayed only long enough to be sure she was ready for him before bringing them together in a tumultuous explosion of pleasure that sent shards of white-hot rapture tearing through both.

With the first shattering burst of passion eased, they were free to explore each other at length. Roanna was almost mindless with joy before Colin drew her to him again. Thrusting deep within her, he drove them both to soaring fulfillment.

Much later, lying with her husband's burnished head against her breast Roanna smiled softly. When they had first begun to make love, she had thought to tell him of the child and to ask him to take special care. But her intention was lost in the firestorm of her own need, and at any rate it had not been necessary. Colin was far too gentle and loving a man ever to harm her even inadvertently.

Her smile deepened as she stroked the rough silk of his hair. There was time enough to tell him of the baby later. Joy and a deep sense of peace filled her as she at last allowed herself to believe that for them there would be time for everything.

"
T
here must be something we can do," Colin insisted. "She can't just go on suffering like this."

Brenna touched his arm gently. "You know there's nothing to be worried about Roanna is strong and healthy, and the birth is proceeding rapidly. Your son—or daughter—will be here quite soon."

"You said that an hour ago," he reminded her tightly.

Nodding patiently, she reassured him yet again. "It won't be much longer now."

A soft moan came from the bed, claiming their attention. Roanna's face was pale. Tendrils of damp hair clung to her forehead. Her amber eyes were shadowy with pain, but they nonetheless shone with determination.

"Listen to Brenna, she said firmly. "I'm fine."

Colin took her hand in his, holding it as though he was afraid she might break. "It's been going on so long."

A slight smile curved her mouth. "It only seems that way. Nothing really started until this morning."

He nodded morosely. Throughout the previous night, she had been troubled by occasional aches and a growing feeling of pressure in her burdened belly. Colin had piled pillows behind her, rubbed her back, and talked to her soothingly. He was as anxious as she for their child to be born, but the knowledge that she had to suffer to bring it forth tormented him.

When the new day's light at last began to reveal the early spring landscape, her labor started in earnest He had hastily summoned Brenna, who had arrived the week before to help care for her sister-in-law. She took charge immediately, summoning servants with fresh linens and hot water and doing her best to convince Colin he should go downstairs. But he would have none of it stubbornly remaining at his wife's side. Acknowledging that he had as much skill at healing as she did herself, Brenna relented. Together they made Roanna as comfortable as possible and settled down to wait

Or at least, the two women remained calm in the face of what gave every appearance of being a perfectly normal delivery. The knowledge that there were no apparent problems did not reassure Colin at all. He alternated between sitting anxiously beside Roanna watching her every move and pacing the room in increasing frustration, until Brenna seriously considered asking Guyon to knock him over the head and drag him away.

Only the memory of her own delivery a few months before stopped her. Guyon had not behaved any differently from Colin. Having missed the birth of their first child, he had insisted on remaining at her side through every moment. Fortunately, this baby came much more easily. So quickly that she could hardly believe it, Brenna had found herself holding a beautiful little daughter. Guyon, however, had not appreciated the swiftness of her labor. He had gone around for days horrified by her suffering and had required great persuading after she healed to resume their intimacy.

Throughout the long afternoon, Roanna's increasingly anguished moans had mingled with the sharp ring of hammers against stone and the shouts of men working on the castle construction. Like Guyon, Colin was building himself an impenetrable fortress that would dominate the countryside for miles around. Though neither man was concerned any longer about Norman raiders, both their holdings were too close to the Welsh border to take security for granted.

Thinking of her husband, Brenna hoped he had found some way to distract himself, perhaps with little Alain and Meri, who were an endless source of fascination to their doting father. But she knew nothing could really take his mind from the chamber where his sister labored to bring forth their child.

"You're doing fine," Brenna told her gently, mopping the perspiration from her brow.

Roanna smiled faintly. Caught in the throes of yet another contraction, she could not speak. The torches lit hours before against the late night darkness shone on her strained features. Colin held her hand rightly as pain tore through her. When it was over, she lay panting. All too soon the agony struck again. Her back arched in a frantic effort to throw off the torment as a scream broke from her.

"Quickly," Brenna ordered, "it's almost time."

Ashen-faced, Colin obeyed. Taking her place at the foot of the bed, he was infinitely relieved to see that the child was indeed about to be born. "Just once more," he urged huskily. "Push, Roanna, push!"

Strengthened by his voice, she summoned all her energy to expel the child. Another tearing pain ripped through her, but she was suddenly almost unaware of her own suffering. With Brenna helping to hold her up, she could see Colin's face. His rugged features were suffused with wonder and overwhelming tenderness.

As he glanced up, their gazes met. An adoring smile lit his eyes before he quickly looked back down. "Almost there, my love. Push . . . that's it. . . again. . . . Good!" With infinite care, Colin reached forward to receive his son, who slid long and perfectly formed into his father's hands.

Roanna fell back against the pillows. Exhausted, she could only stare in astonishment as Brenna rapidly cut the cord and cleaned the child before wrapping him in a soft blanket

Once the afterbirth was safely released and the bleeding stopped, Colin gently removed the stained linen from beneath Roanna, washed her, and slipped her into a warm sleeping robe. His hand shook slightly as he filled a cup with nourishing broth into which he had mixed herbs to ease her soreness. He held it as Roanna sipped, noting gratefully that much of her normal color had already returned.

"What a beautiful babe!" Brenna exclaimed as she laid the child at his mother's breast Neither parent could disagree. The son they had already agreed to name Kenelm in honor of Colin's late father had his sire's coppery hair and features, except for the eyes that amid the blue of all newborns already showed amber glints.

The adults watching him laughed indulgently as he rooted around for a moment in search of Roanna's nipple before clamping down on it determinedly. Soft sucking noises announced Kenelm's success as his mother's milk began to flow.

His appetite was barely satisfied when Roanna's eyelids fluttered. Sleepily, she allowed Brenna to take the child and place him in the cradle Colin had lovingly made. For a few moments longer she watched her son with awed fascination before sleep gently claimed her.

Brenna tiptoed out, leaving Colin to watch over his wife and son. Though he had been up since the previous night and should have felt weary, he was aware of nothing but soaring exultation. Not only had Roanna come safely through the ordeal he had so dreaded, she had also given them both a beautiful, healthy son.

After checking once more to make sure she was really all right, he strode over to the cradle. Kenelm blinked at him curiously. Very carefully, Colin lifted the baby into his arms. He could not resist the urge to show his child to the world.

The late night air was warm enough for the shutters to be opened. Standing by the window, Colin gazed out over the countryside just visible in the predawn fight The gently rolling hills and tranquil valleys were already verdant with the promise of spring. The scars left by war and defeat which he once thought beyond repair had vanished. There was no sign of the terrible upheaval begun little more than a year before. The land, and the people, were too busy now with the future to worry about the past

Cradling his son to him, Colin looked down into the small, puckered face. The future. Bright with the promise of peace and joyful with the knowledge of love. Smiling, he turned back to the woman who had made it all possible. Sitting down on the bed beside her, he laid their son nearby. His eyes, quicksilver in the gathering light never left them as slowly the new day broke over the land