The Border Hostage (15 page)

Her glance flew to his and held. “I believe in the power of nature.” She took a small pot of butter, sprinkled in the powdered yarrow, and handed it to him. “Try this.”

He cocked a dark brow. “No magic incantation I must chant?”

“Hocus pocus, fish bones choke us.”

His lips twitched. “I deserved that.”

You'll get
everything
you deserve if I have my wish, Heath Kennedy
, Raven thought with satisfaction.

A
fter Raven left Heath, she entered her chamber and firmly closed the door between the adjoining rooms. The bed was piled high with dresses, cloaks, riding clothes, and undergarments. The female inside her was thrilled, and she was astounded that Valentina Douglas could show such generosity to another woman. As she hung them in the wardrobe, she was surprised at the vibrant colors and rich textures of the gowns. She knew there were far more clothes than she would ever need, for she did not plan to be here much longer. Still, she could not resist removing the clothes she had worn for two days and changing into one of the dresses.

Someone had brought warm scented water and fresh towels, so Raven quickly undressed and took a sponge bath. She donned a fresh white petticoat and marveled at the delicate flowers embroidered around its hem and low neckline. She chose a jade-green gown because its vivid color cried out to her. She put it on and ran to look in the mirror. Her reflection both pleased and surprised her. The
gown was cut much lower than anything she had ever been allowed to wear before, and the curve of her breasts swelled above the square neckline, making her feel overtly feminine. She brushed her hair until it shone like black silk, then picked up the green cloak that matched the gown. She had decided to accept Tina's invitation to dine and try again to obtain her help.

When Raven opened her chamber door and walked into the adjoining room, she was astonished to see Heath Kennedy standing naked with only a towel about his hips. He had just bathed and was examining his shoulder in the mirror. His discarded clothes lay upon a wooden settle, and Raven's eye fell upon a key that had fallen from his pocket. It was the same key he had used yesterday to lock Christopher in the tower! Excitement surged through her as she realized that here was the means to free Christopher, if she could summon the courage. All she had to do was use her power to distract his jailer.

She casually laid her cloak down over the key and walked toward him showing great concern. “God's passion, that is far more than a cut; it's a knife wound! Let me have a look at it.”

Heath's smoldering glance roamed over her, lingering on her breasts so temptingly displayed. Sexual hunger threatened to engulf him and though he turned his shoulder toward her, his gaze never left her. The moment her scent stole to him, his arousal lifted the towel.

His marked response to her gave Raven added confidence. She drew as close as she dared to examine the wound. “It won't stop bleeding until it is stitched,” she declared.

He held up the needle and thread he had been about to use. “For once we agree. You have the gift of healing, I believe.”

Raven had never stitched a man's wound before. She had watched her grandmother, and she had sewn one of Heron's hunting dogs that had been lacerated by a wild
boar. Kennedy, however, willing to put himself at her mercy, handed her the needle. Confidence in her own ability surged into her the moment their fingers touched, and she became sure of her healing power.

Heath did not flinch as her small deft stitches closed the gaping cut. He did momentarily lose his erection, but the minute he felt her fingers gently rubbing on the yarrow mixture, his desire flared up again, hot and hard.

Raven focused on the flesh beneath her fingers, willing it to heal, seeing it heal in her mind's eye, then actually feeling the skin become smooth and firm again. For a few unbelievable moments she merged with the powerful male who stood before her; she felt the stinging pain of the shoulder, then she experienced the flaring desire that consumed him. She released him instantly, as if she had been burned, and stepped back.

“You are beautiful in your witchery,” he murmured low.

Raven felt that he was the one casting the bewitching spell. She broke it quickly before he could read her thoughts. “You should rest; put no exertion upon your shoulder. To sleep is to heal.” Then she casually changed the subject. “Your sister has invited me to sup with her and Ada tonight; I have been looking forward to the female company.”

Raven walked over to the settle and picked up her cloak and with it, the key. She willed him to let her go, and exhaled a long sigh of relief when he did not stop her from leaving the tower.

The iron key felt heavy in her hand as Raven walked quickly, summoning her confidence, focusing on her power, determined that this time she would not lose her way. She believed her biggest problem would be to convince Christopher to leave her behind; that his chance of escape would be far better if he went alone.

The passageway that led to his tower was pitch dark and Raven had to gather all her courage to keep going. To reassure herself, she felt for her herb knife that she had
slipped into the cloak's pocket. Her heart hammered as she desperately clung to the belief that she had the power to free Christopher Dacre. The key would never have come to her hand had it been otherwise.

She felt the rough oak of the studded door beneath her fingers as she found the keyhole, then she turned the lock and miraculously the door swung open. After the darkness of the corridor, the candlelit chamber seemed bright, and Raven quickly closed the door behind her. Dacre rose up from the bed, and she went into his arms with a sob. “Chris, thank God they didn't put you in the dungeon or mistreat you!”

“Give me the key,” he demanded.

She pressed it into his hand. “There are horses grazing in the west meadow. Don't go near the stables,” she cautioned.

“I'll have no chance of escape with you along. I can't take you, Raven.” His voice was cold, calculating.

She was momentarily hurt that he did not put her safety before his own, then crushed down the ridiculous feminine emotion, assuring herself that he was being both sensible and practical.

“Do you have a weapon for me?” he asked.

“All I have is my herb knife.” She put the small dagger into his waiting hand, praying that he would escape without using it.

He held her by the shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “I swear I will avenge myself against him, and against every Kennedy breathing. I will destroy them with fire and sword!”

She had never seen such naked hatred in his gray-green eyes before. “No, Christopher! They have not harmed us. There has been no blood shed. Killing only leads to more killing!”

Suddenly the heavy door flew open and crashed into the wall. Raven jumped guiltily and stared into eyes that were dark with fury. Then Chris Dacre wrapped his arm
about her middle and thrust her in front of him, snarling, “Not one step closer, Kennedy!”

Raven was shocked to feel the point of her own dagger against her throat. She was not afraid of the man who held her; she knew that Christopher would never harm her, that his threat was one of calculated desperation. The rage she saw in the Borderer's eyes, however, sent a shudder of fear up her spine. As if from nowhere, he drew a long knife and launched himself through the air with the speed of a raptor. Raven thought she screamed, then realized it was Christopher who had cried out in fear and pain as his arm was bent up his back and her small dagger clattered to the flagstone floor.

“I'm worth nothing to you dead,” Dacre babbled.

“Please don't kill—” Raven's words stuck in her throat as Kennedy swung about and pierced her with a murderous glare.

“Go!” he bellowed.

With overwhelming relief she saw him sheath his knife, then she obeyed his order, before her presence goaded him to violence.

Heath flung Dacre against the wall and watched him sink to his knees. “If you ever touch her again, I'll cut your heart out.”

When Raven returned to her chamber, she found Tina's woman with a tray of food. Ada surveyed her from head to foot with a look of approval. “Aha, just as we suspected. Tonight you have other fish to fry! In that gown you will have him eating out of your hand. Tina swears that green gives a woman power over a man. I say show him no mercy; drive him to his knees, which is exactly the position he will crave after five minutes alone with you.” Ada winked. “Valentina invites you again tomorrow night.”

Raven closed the door tightly when Ada left, wishing it
had a bolt upon it. Heath Kennedy's power was far greater than hers. She sank to the bed with trembling knees, afraid of what he would do to her when he returned. She looked at the food and knew it would stick in her throat if she tried to eat anything. The wine was another matter, however; perhaps it would give her some much-needed courage. She poured a goblet from the flagon and took several large gulps. Almost immediately she felt its effect. Like magic, it felt as if the petals of a huge red rose unfurled in her breast. She drained the goblet and felt her blood heat as it pulsed through her veins. Ada's words echoed in her head:
In that gown you will have him eating out of your hand … green gives a woman power over a man.
Raven realized that she did have power; a woman's power over a man had its own potent magic. He had certainly responded to it earlier; it was her only defense against the dark devil!

The moment she heard him enter the outer chamber, Raven opened the adjoining door and walked bravely toward him. “I know my behavior was reckless. I saw the key and took it. If you expect me to apologize for trying to free him, you will be disappointed.”

His glance moved over her, saw her glittering eyes, and her lovely breasts that rose and fell with her agitation. “My only disappointment is that you are as devious as other women.”

“We are adversaries! What other weapons do I have?”

“You have many weapons, Raven, as well you know. I should give you a damn good beating for what you did tonight. Your reckless actions almost got you killed.”

“I was in no danger from Christopher.”

“No, you were in danger from me!”

She ran her tongue over her lips slowly, provocatively. “Danger excites me,” she whispered, swaying toward him.

Heath's arms went around her, steadying her. When his mouth covered hers, tasting her, his suspicions were confirmed. She was trying to handle him as if he were one of
her hunting birds, using herself as the lure, to make him do her bidding. “Go to bed, Raven, you are flown with wine!”

His rejection stung her pride. She was aghast at her own behavior. “How very noble you are! First, you think to save me from Chris Dacre, then you think to save me from myself!” She retreated into her own chamber and crashed the door closed.

Heath's mouth curved into a smile. He had a vast experience of females, all of them devious. In comparison, Raven Carleton was so innocent, it touched his heart. She possessed great power; she just hadn't learned to utilize it. But once she did, it would be devastating. She was quite right, he did intend to save her from herself. He would never let that swine Dacre have her. He would woo her relentlessly until he won her, then he would flaunt her.

It was hours before his body allowed him to sleep. He lay in the narrow bed consumed by thoughts of her. He knew he desired Raven with all his heart and soul, but at the moment his body was obsessed by a physical need for her. His sexual hunger for her grew hourly. He indulged in a fantasy, forcing himself to go slowly at first, then he would allow his imagination to progress to hot and wild.

Heath stood framed in the doorway, enthralled by the black-haired beauty in the green gown. He held out his hand in invitation. “Come to me, Raven.” He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, feel the pulse beat in his throat, feel the shaft of his cock fill with blood, lengthening and thickening, until it throbbed with need. His gut ached with hunger for their first magical touch. She came to him slowly, moving sensually, swaying her hips, breathing deeply, so that the curve of her breasts swelled temptingly above the low-cut neckline of her gown. She stopped inches from his body, then deliberately ran her tongue over her luscious lower lip and whispered, “Danger excites me.” He reached out and with one fingertip touched her mouth. The current that ran between them was so intense, he almost came out of his skin. He stroked his thumb across her lip. “I'm going to taste you, I'm going to taste you everywhere.” Raven lifted
her mouth for his ravishing, needing the kiss as much as he did. He licked her bottom lip, then sucked it whole into his mouth as if it were a ripe cherry. His hands unfastened her gown, then removed it. He teased her with the tip of his tongue while he denuded her of her petticoat. Her mouth tasted like honeyed wine, and he savored the anticipation of tasting the other intimate places of her body.

Heath pulled away from Raven and allowed his smoldering glance to travel the length of her body. Her skin was the color of ivory and smooth as cream; her breasts were full and tipped with bright rosebuds. Her thighs were soft, and the dark shadow between as tempting as sin. He lifted her high, until her mons was on a level with his mouth, then he kissed the tight little curls and slowly allowed her naked body to slide down his until her toes touched the carpet. He could wait no longer. In a heartbeat, they were naked together in the bed, and his hot mouth was open against her creamy skin, whispering all the things he was going to do to her. His hands threaded into her black silken hair, combing his fingers through the curls, inhaling their intoxicating fragrance that reminded him of purple heather. He lifted her above him, so that her glorious hair pooled upon his chest, then covered her breasts with kisses, and sucked and licked her nipples until they became taut little spears thrusting into his hungry mouth.

Suddenly he was ravenous for the feel of her long, lithe legs wrapping themselves about his body and sliding up his back. Like magic, she was beneath him, writhing, panting, moaning, in a fever to yield everything to him that he had ever desired. Heath rose up, then plunged all the way down, feeling her close sleekly around him. His palms curved over her lush breasts as he began the primal mating dance, plunging, thrusting into her scalding heat until the surging waves of passion rose higher and higher, threatening to drown him in forbidden pleasure. It was a race against time to bring them both to fulfillment before they were engulfed.