Gift of Desire (4 page)

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said abruptly, turning toward his room. “This was a bad idea.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jeremy said in a low growl. “Don’t be a coward now.”

Rhys glared at him. “It’s not cowardice.”

“Yes, it is. Let her feel bad for you. For God’s sake man, she can see what they did. Give her a moment to wrestle with it.” Jeremy sounded impatient. And guilty. He always sounded guilty.

“It’s not your fault either,” he said. He’d said it a million times and Jeremy still insisted on taking the blame.

“It is and you know it,” he said roughly. He turned away. “I’m going to get the salve. I’ll rub it in while we talk. It always helps.” He walked away without another word, leaving Rhys alone with Cordelia.

“You haven’t said anything,” she said in a small voice. He looked over at her in surprise. She was looking at the floor, trying to yank the blanket up over her breasts and wrap it around her at the same time. She looked about twelve years old, insecure and heartbroken.

“I need to lie down,” he said. “And I need some of that blanket. I haven’t got enough fat on me to keep a kitten warm.” He wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do at this point. His head was muddled, his back hurt, and he was so damn cold.

“Oh,” she said immediately, her head coming up so she could meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide with realization. “I’m sorry. Come on.” She took his arm gently and steered him into the bedroom as if he were an invalid. He gritted his teeth to keep from jerking out of her hold and snarling at her. He hated this. Hated feeling like less than a man. Especially when his cock was feeling very manly indeed. It felt almost as if it were a compass needle, pointing directly at her sweet cunt, still wet from Jeremy’s fuck. He closed his eyes in agony. God, what he wouldn’t do to be Jeremy right now. Or Cordelia. He wasn’t choosy. He’d fuck or be fucked right now, take your pick.

No. He wasn’t going to go there. He wasn’t going to take Jeremy from her. He wouldn’t.

When they were near the bed he made a conscious effort to pull his arm away slowly so as not to make her feel bad in any way. He was so damn awkward around her it was like walking on eggshells. He lowered himself to sit on the bed and was proud that he managed not to wince at the pull of muscle and flesh. “I need to lie on my stomach.”

“All right,” she said, her face showing her consternation. “Do you need me to help?”

He laughed, but it wasn’t funny at all, really. “No, I’ve been doing that since I was babe. I think I can handle it.”

She smiled tentatively. “You’ll have to help me help you, I’m afraid. I don’t know what you need.”

I need you
, he thought, but the words stuck in his throat. She’d told him she loved him, but her words just now proved it a lie. She didn’t even know him anymore. He turned away and gingerly crawled onto his stomach before he collapsed there, praying Jeremy would hurry. He couldn’t remember where they’d left the salve. Whose bag was it in? It was all a muddle. Again.

“How?” She asked quietly. She sat on the bed next to him and he turned his head on the pillow to regard her. She reached out her hand and hesitated. Then she touched his back again. The light was better here than in the hallway. The horror of his back was in full glory for her perusal.

“A whip.” He knew he’d tell her, or Jeremy would. She had a right to know. This was Jeremy’s nightmare as well. But it was so closely entwined with all the other things they needed to tell her.

“Why?” She stroked his back, her touch light but so very soothing. He closed his eyes. It was easier to talk when he didn’t have to see her pity.

“I was a slave who did not take well to the job.”

Her hand stopped for a moment and then continued its soothing stroke. “No, I can see that you would not have.”

He gave a half smile, eyes still closed. “You did know me well.”

“Why was Jeremy not whipped?”

Her question was not unexpected, but again, the answer was quite complicated. He gave her the simple version. “He was a captain; I, a mere lieutenant. They gave him the respect his station demanded.”

“Only at first.” Jeremy’s voice came from the doorway. “When I protested your treatment, when they realized my feelings for you, then they whipped you to punish me. This was my torture, not yours, and you know it.”

“Oh my God,” Cordelia whispered.

“It was both of ours,” Rhys conceded. He sighed and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the horror on Cordelia’s face anymore.

Jeremy sat down on the bed on Rhys’ other side, so that he and Cordelia flanked him. Wryly he thought how differently he’d imagined it when the three of them finally shared a bed. “Roll onto your side,” Jeremy told him, “your back facing me.”

Rhys did as he was told. He shivered and winced when Jeremy’s fingers gently applied some of the cold salve to his back. “Cold,” he said, not wanting Jeremy to think he was hurting him, though he was. The poor sod already felt guilty enough.

“I’m sure,” Jeremy murmured. “Cordy, can’t you share the blanket with him?”

“What?” she asked in shocked confusion. “I mean, yes, of course. I’ll just…I’ll just go put something on and he can have it.”

“No.” Rhys tensed up at Jeremy’s response. His voice was low and had the ring of the sea captain to it. Cordelia was in the process of getting up from the bed but froze at his command.

“No?” she asked. Rhys wasn’t sure what he heard in her voice. Hesitation, yes. A bit of confusion. But something else as well.

“No,” Jeremy said calmly. “Lay down next to him and share your body heat. It’s the quickest way to warm him up, I’ve found.”

“Oh,” she said, startled. “I…all right.”

She awkwardly turned and lay down next to him, still wrapped up tight in the blanket, her face bright red with embarrassment. Rhys would have laughed if he weren’t inwardly cursing at having to play the gentleman with her when he really wanted to roll on top of her and shove his cock inside her.

Jeremy was using his palm to massage the salve into Rhys’ back. His hand and the salve had warmed up and it felt so good Rhys bowed his back into it and groaned. Cordelia’s head whipped up and she looked at his face, concerned. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said a bit impatiently. “It feels marvelous. I love it when he does this.” He bit his lip, horrified at his slip of the tongue. What would she make of that? Damn Jeremy and his confessions and his kisses.

“Do you?” she asked, her head tilted to the side as she looked between them. “Good. I’m glad it feels nice.” She cleared her throat and scooted closer to him, almost touching him. “Are you getting warmer?”

She awkwardly rested her head on the bed right next to his and they were face-to-face. He stared at her mouth. It was overly large for fashion. When she smiled it took over her face. He’d kissed her once or twice while he was courting her. Genteel kisses, mere pecks of affection. Except for one time, when he’d had a bit too much to drink. He’d cornered her in the garden at an assembly and kissed her with all the pent-up passion he’d felt for her since the first time he saw her, crossing the street in Bath, laughing at something her mother was saying. She’d opened her mouth and let him in and she’d kissed him back, her enthusiasm making up for her obvious innocence. His cock had ached for her. He’d been horrified at his ungentlemanly behavior the next day. They’d never spoken of it, and a week later he’d given her to Jeremy. Now he wished he’d done more. As he stared, she licked her lips and he raised his gaze to find her watching him with slightly hooded eyes.

“Open the blanket.” Jeremy’s words had her eyes flying wide as she looked over Rhys’ shoulder at her husband and then back to him. “Open the blanket and share it with him. Press your warm body to his.”

“But I’m naked under here,” she said breathlessly.

“I know,” Jeremy said. “That’s exactly why I want you to do it.”

Jeremy kept rubbing the salve on Rhys’ ruined back while he watched Cordy struggle with the idea he’d planted in her mind. Rhys hadn’t given her enough credit. It wouldn’t take long before she enthusiastically welcomed him to their bed. Jeremy was counting on it happening before the night was through. If not, they’d still reveal all and he’d have to go sleep with Rhys. He knew Rhys couldn’t sleep without him by his side.

Rhys was quiet and still as stone. Jeremy refused to let him be passive in the revelations yet to come this night. “Rhys, wouldn’t you like Cordy to share her warmth with you?”

Cordy was clutching the blanket to her chest with both fists, and he could see that she was breathing quickly, like a hare trying to decide whether to bolt. Jeremy used both hands on Rhys, massaging his shoulders and trying to get him to relax.

“Yes,” Rhys whispered.

“You said you loved him,” Jeremy began. Rhys jerked under his hands.

“Don’t manipulate her,” he growled.

Jeremy pursed his lips, guilt assailing him. “You’re right. I can’t force her to do something just because I want it.”

Cordy gave a trembling sigh. “Stop.” She took a deep breath and wiggled around on the bed, and then she lifted one side of the blanket, revealing her hip and a long, pale leg. Jeremy felt Rhys hitch his breath. She moved closer and the blanket slowly slid out from under her other hip. She threw the blanket over Rhys and Jeremy got a glimpse of her beautiful body before it was covered again. Then she pressed full-length against Rhys and he sucked in a deep breath.

To Jeremy’s surprise Rhys grabbed Cordy’s shoulders and pushed her away. “Don’t let him make you do anything you don’t want,” he told her harshly. “Before you make any decisions, there are…things you should know.”

She very deliberately reached up and brushed his hands aside, then slid into him again. She wrapped one arm around him, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Right now I’ve only decided to help keep you warm.” She gently glided her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm and Jeremy, still touching his back, felt him relax slightly. Cordy tucked her head under Rhys’ chin, so neither man could see her face. “Now tell me,” she said quietly. “Tell me what has made you so sad and angry.”

“This isn’t enough?” Rhys said, his voice rough with emotion. “I feel like a child who must be taken care of.”

“Don’t worry,” Cordy said, her voice amused. “I don’t think of you as a child. Far from it.” Rhys jerked under hands and Jeremy realized that Cordy had wrapped a leg around Rhys’ hip. “That is not the reaction of a child,” she murmured. Jeremy grinned in triumph. He’d known she’d come round. She genuinely loved Rhys and was not timid when it came to sexual matters. It should seem odd, sharing his wife this way, relishing the sight and sound of her enjoying another man’s touch. But in the past year Jeremy’s life had been turned upside down. He’d done things he’d never imagined, found a love he’d denied too long. He wanted it all. They’d made it back and now he wanted it all.

“When we first arrived in Algiers,” Jeremy began, “they brought us to the
bagnio
, the prison. Our identities were confirmed, and, as officers, we were placed in a separate holding area. We were the only officers captured that day. The other men were sent out soon after to work, as day laborers, some, God rest their souls, as galley slaves. I was forced to write a letter home, detailing my imprisonment and demanding a ransom. When Rhys told them that his family had no money, they sent him out to work with the other men, although I protested mightily. They conceded that he would still be allowed to rest at night in the officers’ barracks with me. Soon thereafter the beatings began. This fool began taking the beatings for the other men.”

“Only once or twice,” Rhys said, his voice more relaxed than Jeremy had ever heard it. His eyes were closed and he had his arm wrapped around Cordy, holding her tight while Jeremy massaged his back.

“When they brought him back to me, I fixed him up as best I could and demanded better treatment for him, and for the other men under my command. They ignored my protests, but I became a bit of a thorn in the Bey’s side over the whole thing.”

Rhys laughed. “A bit.”

“Good for you,” Cordy said vehemently, sniffling with her face still buried in Rhys’ neck.

This was the tricky part. He’d rehearsed over and over how to tell Cordy that he and Rhys had talked of her, had made plans for their future that would irrevocably change hers. He took a deep breath and was surprised when Rhys reached over his shoulder and touched the back of his hand. “Then, one night, I couldn’t bear it anymore and I did…whatever it took to make Rhys feel better.” He inwardly groaned. That was pathetic. He cleared his throat. “I…” He didn’t know how to go on.

“We talked of you,” Rhys said, shocking Jeremy with his straightforward revelation. “Jeremy told me about your…intimacies.” He’d been the one who hadn’t wanted to tell her, who wanted to leave Jeremy and Cordy and go away so he wouldn’t come between them. Was he beginning to realize he couldn’t come between them? That he’d always been a part of them? “I begged him to, you see. Because I was still in love with you. And he gave in.”

“I didn’t give in,” Jeremy protested. “I told him because I love him,” he found the courage to say. “I couldn’t bear to see him hurting, physically or emotionally. His heartbreak over you was more than I could bear. By sharing every detail of our life together, I helped him make it through the very long nights.”

Cordy didn’t say anything for the longest time. Her hand was still on Rhys’ shoulder, but it was still, her fingertips white from the pressure of her tight hold. “I don’t blame you,” she finally whispered. “I would have done anything, too, to make Rhys feel better.”

“It became more than that,” Rhys confessed in a rough whisper. Jeremy waited but Rhys said no more.

“Cordy,” Jeremy said slowly, “the thought of being able to have you was all that got him through.”

“Have me?” she asked in a whisper, still not looking at either of them.

“We made plans,” he told her. “Plans that included you. Plans for the three of us. Together.” Cordy’s only reaction was a broken, breathy gasp.

“The Bey soon realized how incredibly close Rhys and I were. It’s hard to keep something like that a secret when you’re a prisoner.” Jeremy scooped up a small amount of salve from the jar and applied it to Rhys’ back. His hands were shaking at the memory. “Other men were far more intimate, actually,” he added, wanting to get both Cordy and Rhys thinking about what that meant. “It was a nightmarish place and fear and loneliness can drive a man to find solace among the most unlikely places. When he found out, his punishments and tortures increased, and the more I protested, the more he had Rhys beaten. He knew my weakness. Whenever I got out of line, Rhys was dragged out and whipped in front of my prison window.”