The Cursed One Page 16

  Gabriel’s heart pounded loudly. Mora was still alive, thank God. He wasn’t too late, but she was under heavy guard, her captors obviously hoping he’d do just what he had and come to rescue her. How to get her out without getting himself killed or captured in the process? He needed a plan, but his leg throbbed and he felt foggy headed. At least he knew Mora was safe for a couple of days while they waited to see if he might return for her.

  “Wulf. He’s dangerous. He killed Mullins, and how he did that, I’d like to know.”

  “Cut his throat as we all saw,” another man provided.

  “But how did he get the drop on him to cut his throat?” the same man asked. “Mullins was a hard man to take by surprise.”

  “Don’t know, but he will pay for killing one of our own. An eye for an eye. We don’t have to feel any guilt over killing that one. He’s already brought down too many of us.”

  Just how many were there of these creatures? Gabriel wondered. Creatures with some sort of plan. He had still to understand what that might be, but now he knew they had no intention of letting either him or Amelia live. Slipping away, Gabriel moved as silently as his throbbing leg would allow through the back of the barn. He suddenly needed to see Amelia, to touch her, to know she was safe.

  Amelia felt useless. There were a few supplies in the dark hole beneath the table. There was a stove, probably wood outside to stoke it with, but she had no idea how to start a fire, much less how to cook a decent meal. Gabriel needed better nourishment than what he’d been getting. He needed to get stronger to fight off the infection that was no doubt running through his body. She was certain what had happened last night between them hadn’t helped his condition.

  She supposed she should feel guilt of some sort, shame perhaps that she had given her virginity to a man who was not her husband, but she couldn’t dredge up those emotions. There were too many others rolling around inside of her.

  Every second Gabriel was gone was pure torture. She worried about him. She worried about Mora and her fate. What if Gabriel didn’t come back? What if she never saw him alive again? Such thoughts made her chest hurt, made catching a breath difficult. Such thoughts broke her heart. He was unlike any man she knew. He was honorable and strong and compassionate, even if he wished he were not. He might not be the fairy prince she once dreamed he was, but he was better. He was real.

  A soft rap on the door made her jump. Amelia hurried to the bolted door and listened. A moment later Gabriel called softly to her. Relieved, she threw back the bolt and opened the door. He limped inside, spotted a chair, and immediately headed toward it to sit down. His eyes didn’t look quite right to her.

  “You need a doctor, Gabriel,” she worried.

  “That will have to wait,” he said, then smiled at her. “Mora needs to be rescued.”

  Amelia’s heart leaped with joy. “She’s alive?”

  He nodded. “She’s being kept under guard in the tavern. They think we may come back to rescue her. They are using her as bait.”

  Amelia pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Her knees were weak with relief. “How are we going to get her out?”

  He lifted a dark brow. “How am I, you mean? You aren’t going anywhere near the village.”

  The arrangement would have suited her fine at one time. Amelia knew Gabriel wasn’t in any condition to charge to Mora’s rescue, but the two of them together might free their friend.

  “I am capable of helping you,” she said sternly.

  He sighed. “I know you are brave, Amelia. I know so much more now than I did in the beginning. You’re stronger than I thought you were. Had none of this happened, had you married Lord Robert Collingsworth and gone on with your life, I don’t think it is something he would have even known about you. And I’m sorry for him because of that. For not having the chance to know how truly extraordinary you are.”

  Her heart melted. Gabriel hadn’t said he loved her, but he’d just come very close. Perhaps he did not even realize it. She prayed they would have the time for him to do so. But time for poor Mora was running out.

  “When will you go?” Amelia asked.

  He swiped a sleeve across his brow. “Tonight, under cover of darkness like you suggested this morning. You need to be ready to run when we return. Find what you can pack in the way of food. Maybe some clothes like you are wearing for Mora. She can move faster in men’s trousers.”

  Amelia put a plate of dried apples, bread, and a small chunk of cheese in his lap. “You need to eat, Gabriel. Then you need to rest. I still think I should go with you and help.”

  She watched as he picked at the food. The fact he seemed to have no appetite wasn’t a good sign. “You’re going to have to trust me, Amelia,” he said. “Can you do that?”

  If not him, who else in the world could she trust? He’d kept her alive and safe this long; she had faith he would continue to do so. At least if he was physically able. “I do trust you,” she said, and because he wasn’t eating much anyway, she took the plate from his lap and placed it on the table. “Get into bed.”

  A lazy half smile shaped his sensual lips. “Is that an invitation?”

  Despite the fact that he was glassy-eyed, obviously exhausted, and in pain, Amelia found him nearly irresistible. She tamped down her woman’s feelings for him and tried to fix a stern expression on her face. “None of that,” she said. “At least until you are better.”

  “I can be better if that is your wish, Amelia.”

  Her heart thudded against her chest. How could he be better than he was last night? The thought intrigued her, would have intrigued her more under different circumstances.

  “And I thought you were not a rake.” She returned his half smile and helped him rise from his chair, steering him toward the small bedchamber and the soft feather mattress.

  Once he sat upon the edge of the bed, she helped him get his boots off. She’d cleaned up that morning with water from the bucket Gabriel had brought in last night. The blood on her thighs had been a rather shocking sight. Proof positive that she was no longer a maiden. Amelia returned to the bucket, poured a little water into a sturdy crock, and fetched a rag she’d found in a pile of rags she had to assume were used for such things.

  After wringing out the rag, she returned to the bed. Gabriel now lay back against the pillows. “Remove your shirt,” she said. “The cool water will help bring down your fever.”

  Tugging the garment over his head, he asked, “And when did you learn so much about tending to the sick?”

  “From Mora,” she informed him. “She knows a lot about such things. While you were leading us through the forest, focused in on everything else around us, we talked with one another. I was worried about your leg and she told me a little about healing herbs and ways to bring fever down, and I told her a little about my life in London.”

  “Mora has a lot of life experiences to be so young.”

  Amelia ran the wet rag over his brow. “I should tell you something about Mora,” she said. “I promised her I would let her tell you, but I feel you should know.”

  His eyes had closed; now they opened. “What about Mora?”

  Trailing the rag down his neck to his chest, she answered, “She isn’t that young. Maybe a year younger than me. She chose to hide it from us by binding her breasts and wearing that bonnet to make her look plain. She thought she must disguise herself to stay safe while working for the upper crust. Her brother had once assured her she’d be taken advantage of otherwise.”

  Gabriel’s green eyes narrowed. “When did she tell you?”

  Amelia shrugged. “She didn’t tell me. I discovered her one night cleaning up by the stream without her bonnet and her bindings. She promised me she would tell you, but she still wasn’t sure you could be trusted. She thought you lusted for me and might turn your attention her way, knowing you couldn’t very well seduce a lady of my station.”

  His copper-colored nipple hardened when Amelia swiped the wet cloth over his chest. S
he stared at it, fascinated that his nipples could harden the same as hers.

  “She was right, I did lust for you,” he admitted. When she glanced up at him, he added, “I do lust for you.”

  Amelia hoped it was not a simple case of lust for him, although she had once believed lust was the same as love. She knew that wasn’t the truth now. She might have been attracted to Gabriel Wulf from the moment she saw him, might have flirted with wicked thoughts of him, but it was only after coming to know him that she had really fallen under his spell.

  “Then maybe she was wise to keep her secrets,” Amelia responded, trailing the cloth down his corded stomach muscles.

  He placed his hand over hers. “She had no need to fear me,” he said. “I was taught better than to take advantage of serving girls. I have recently discovered when I want one woman, only the one woman will do.”

  Amelia swallowed loudly. Gabriel was obviously trying to seduce her. And it was working. Which was ridiculous given his condition. Still, his intoxicating scent suddenly seemed stronger. She had trouble thinking clearly and shook her head in an effort to regain control. “I need to look at your leg. Maybe pressing a cold rag to the wound will help bring down your fever.”

  “Go ahead,” he suggested, that half smile hovering over his lips and his eyes focused intently upon her.

  If he meant to rattle her, he succeeded. Amelia tried to keep her mind on tending to him, telling herself she could take care of him without being seduced in the process. She set the rag aside and reached for the fastenings of his trousers. If she hadn’t had to figure the workings of men’s trousers that morning when she dressed, she wouldn’t have known how to proceed. Once she loosened the trousers, she took hold of either side and tugged them down his lean hips.

  His manhood immediately sprang forth, long, hard, and intimidating enough to send her running were she still a maid. Instead, the sight of him fully aroused sent heat coursing through her, all of which settled between her legs. She had a nearly uncontrollable urge to touch him there, to wrap her fingers around his width and see what he felt like.

  “Go ahead,” he repeated softly, as if he’d read her mind.

  She startled, wrenching her gaze from the impressive sight of him. Amelia assumed he had not read her mind and was merely bringing her back to the task at hand. She regained her grip on his trousers and pulled them down his legs, careful not to be rough with his injured one. Grabbing up the rag, she returned to the bucket and crock and rinsed the rag.

  The man had no shame. He hadn’t even reached for the scratchy blanket to cover himself with while her back was turned. Amelia would pretend not to notice he was sprawled out naked before her. Tawny-colored flesh, muscles, and of course the nasty wound to his thigh. The place where he’d had the wound lanced and cauterized looked red and swollen. She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the cool cloth gently against his thigh.

  “I hope this helps with your fever,” she commented.

  “You have me in bed, naked, and at your mercy. There’s only one thing that will stop the fever that rages inside of me now.”

  She glanced up, immediately ensnared by his strange eyes. Her lips felt dry and she unconsciously moistened them. Surely he wasn’t well enough to do what his eyes suggested he wanted to do. And she shouldn’t encourage him. Amelia tried to keep her mind focused on bathing him. She ran the cloth over his smooth skin, her fingertips at times coming into contact with his heated flesh. She wanted to run her hands over him, not the cool cloth. She wanted to feel all that muscled flesh pressed against her naked.

  Last night had been wonderful, but she suspected most men and women did not couple on the floor while the man sat propped against a door, the woman straddling him. She couldn’t avoid his private area. Nor could she ignore the constant reminder that he was aroused and obviously wishing to engage in activities he hadn’t the strength to perform.

  He sucked in his breath softly when she touched him there with the cool rag. She tended to him, but all the while she couldn’t get the desire to replace the rag with her fingers from her mind. Gabriel pulled the cloth from her hand a moment later. She glanced up into his eyes, not surprised by the heat she saw there, but surprised that it probably had nothing to do with his fever. He took her hand and guided it to his hard member. Her fingers wrapped around him as if she could not command them. He felt like steel wrapped in velvet.

  When she tightened her hold on him, he closed his eyes and groaned. Afraid she had hurt him, she snatched her hand away.

  “Don’t stop,” he said softly. “I love the feel of your hands on me.”

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered. “You are in no condition to—”

  He suddenly reached out and grabbed her, pulling her down on top of him. “I think I’m a better judge of what I can or cannot do than you. I want to make love to you again. I want to feel you beneath me, your skin against mine. I want to please you in ways you have never dreamed of being pleased.”

  She should resist him, not because she wanted to, but because it wasn’t right. Not when he was hurt. Not when he was flirting with a fever. She wasn’t so selfish she would compromise his health for a few stolen hours of pleasure. But his scent curled around her, weakened her will. He was irresistible. When he reached behind her and cupped her head, pulling her lips down to his, she did not stop him.

  Gabriel knew that lust drove him. Not any sort of normal lust he had felt before, but an animalistic lust to mate with Amelia. It had dulled all feeling except the throbbing of his cock—the need to be inside of her. And still, the man wanted more than a quick coupling, his own satisfaction of finding release from the torture of his desire for her. The man wanted to make slow love to her. The man wanted her to feel the same pleasure he felt. The man wanted to see the beauty of her face when release found her.

  He kissed her, seduced her with his tongue, for he knew she was thinking more rationally than he. Gabriel wanted her to care about nothing but the pleasure he could bring her. For a while, he wanted everything to fade into the background. He wanted there to be just the two of them, giving and taking.

  His hand slid down and he gathered her coarse shirt and pulled it up, breaking from her lips only long enough to pull it over her head. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Her skin felt cool and smooth as glass against the hotter, rougher texture of his. She was perfection. His hand slid along the slim slope of her back, around and in between them to unfasten the trousers she wore. She’d had her worn slippers on when he’d arrived back at the cottage. He heard her kick them off, and each one landed with a soft thud against the floor.

  Together, she and Gabriel rid Amelia of what little clothing she still wore. He flipped her on her back. While she touched him, he did the same, cupping her breasts, bending to tease her nipples, then sliding one hand down her flat stomach to the soft hair between her legs. She parted them for him, already past being a shy maiden her first time with a man.

  Not that she was ever shy, he recalled. He liked that about her. That she came to him with very few inhibitions. Most men preferred a reserved wife in bed and a lusty mistress on the side. With Amelia, a man would have no need for a mistress. She wrapped her hand around his sex again and he nearly exploded. He wasn’t used to controlling his needs in bed. The women he’d lain with in the past were simply vessels to ease his lust. He’d never wanted to actually make love to one.

  It had been shallow of him, he realized. As he was afraid to feel more than he should for any woman, it had also been a defense. It was too late now, so he lowered his defenses and allowed himself the true pleasure of being with a woman, this one woman. Gabriel gently took her hand from him and slid down her silken skin, trailing a path with his tongue to her navel. Lower yet he went until he was lodged between her legs, until he could pleasure her with his tongue as he had done with his fingers.

  She gasped softly. Her body tensed. He supposed he’d managed to shock even a woman who was by most standards shocking hers
elf. Then he made love to her with his mouth and he felt her surrender to him. Her hands crept into his hair, twisting, pressing him against her. He loved the taste and the scent of her. It fired his own burning blood.

  His cock throbbed. His animal instincts to claim her rose. He took her to the edge; then he slid up her body, captured her lips, and entered her warm, tight passage. It was heaven and hell. Being inside of her. He wanted to explode, to spill his seed, but he held back, moving inside of her, angling himself so that he stimulated her as he’d done with his tongue. Her breathing grew ragged and she matched his movements. Her nails dug into his back and still he pushed her. Faster, harder, until they were both sweating and gasping for breath.

  He felt the first tremors of her climax, felt her tighten around him, and he lost control. He pumped harder and she shattered, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapping around him. She moaned his name, and poised upon the crest of his own release, he knew he should pull from her. But he could not. The beast inside of him would plant its seed, for that was the reason an animal copulated. Continuance of their race.

  The climax took him before he could reason like a man. He thrust deep into her, spilling his seed. He had never done so before inside of a woman. He’d always been responsible with the women he’d lain with. Not only for their sake, but for whatever child he might spawn’s sake. Gabriel held himself up on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush Amelia, and she stared up at him, her features so beautiful it was even painful for him to look at her.

  A sated half smile rested upon her kiss-swollen lips, and even though he shook from the force of his climax, he bent to kiss her gently. Gabriel rolled to his side and pulled her along with him so that they were still joined. She snuggled against him, and together they tried to return to earth from the heavens.

  Gradually their breathing calmed. He eased from her, but he did not release her. He liked the feel of her in his arms. He liked too damn much about her. And he was fooling himself if he wanted to place such an unthreatening term as “like” to his feelings where she was concerned. He knew it went much deeper than that. What was happening to him was proof even if he tried to deny his feelings. Denying them obviously did no good where the curse was concerned.