Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

W ide awake, Raven felt the urge to go and express her fulsome gratitude to him right away, so he would have no doubt about how much she appreciated him. She was not sure he would be in his chambers yet, but she thought she would go and see. Getting it off her chest felt like the only way she might get some sleep.

Gathering her courage, she got out of bed and put on her robe and slippers. Then she lit a candle, opened the door and peeked outside. The hallway was dimly lit by oil lamps at each end, and it was empty. On silent feet, she padded over to his door and tapped gently upon it. There was no answer, but she was sure she could hear noises coming from inside. He was in there but evidently could not hear her. Now she had screwed up her courage, she was not about to give up. She hesitated only for a moment before turning the handle and gently pushing the door open, meaning only to pop her head around the door to alert him to her presence.

But when she did, the sight that met her eyes was so arresting, she had to cover her mouth to stifle her gasp and almost dropped the candlestick.

There, on the hearthrug before a blazing fire, was Arne. He was lazing naked in the bath tub, his knees poking up, his hair tied up atop his head. He was resting his head against the end of the tub, his eyes closed.

Through the misty white tendrils of steam rising about him, Raven could see everything! She was rooted to the spot, her pulse starting to race, unable to do anything but stare at him in fascination. The sight of his wet, muscular body stole her breath away, and she felt the deep, undeniable pull of attraction in her belly.

A jolt went through her when he suddenly opened his eyes and saw her standing there. Neither of them spoke. He merely fixed her with his piercing blue gaze, a small smile curving the corners of his lips as he stared right back at her. Fearing someone would pass by and see, Raven quickly stepped inside and shut the door, even though she knew she ought to have been on the other side of it.

Instead of covering himself, Arne reached down, took hold of his manhood, and began slowly stroking himself, his eyes locked on Raven's. She felt her cheeks flush, knowing she should look away. But somehow, she found it impossible to tear her eyes from him. With her heart thumping and finding it hard to breathe, the very air in the room felt charged with raw, unspoken desire.

Suddenly, Arne rose up from the water, rhythmically pumping his growing erection in his fist. He paused as if deliberately taunting her, pleasuring himself while the water cascaded in sparkling rivulets down every inch of his magnificent, muscle-packed physique. He stepped out of the tub and walked towards Raven.

She quivered, her body tingling all over as he approached. Everything in her was straining towards him, as if they were magnets being inexorably drawn together. When he stood but a few inches away from her, she felt the heat coming off him burning her through her clothes. She looked up as he leaned down, cradled her head in his hands, and teased her lips with the tip of his tongue.

Raven moaned softly, the thrill racing through her entire body as he traced the outline of her mouth, his tongue flickering in and out tantalizingly. She stood on her tiptoes, reached up, and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet her. He pulled her in tightly to his naked length, his erection pressing against her belly, sending her almost wild with wanting.

"Och, Arne," she breathed, overwhelmed by the flood of pent-up desire that washed over her and pooled hotly between her thighs. Eagerly, she pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth, savoring the taste and warmth of his, their tongues sliding together as they explored each other hungrily, the kiss deepening in intensity, their mutual passion a bonfire they would willingly throw themselves upon.

Abandoning herself to the delirium of the moment, Raven ran her hands all over Arne's naked torso, delighting in the feel of him, her palms skimming the smooth, warm skin of his back, his waist and hips, his high, rounded buttocks, feeling the battle scars that stood slightly proud. It was all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. She had missed it so much!

At the same time as she was exploring him, his hands were exploring her curves, running over the indent of her waist, the swell of her hips, filling his palms with her behind and squeezing the twin globes. Their breath came increasingly raggedly as the passion heightened. Raven knew where it would end, and she wanted it with every fiber of her being. There was no turning back now!

That was until they were rudely interrupted by the sound of the maids' voices out in the hallway. They froze. Raven felt his erection subside, the effect of the jarring interruption.

"Dammit!" Arne swore angrily under his breath, releasing Raven and disentangling himself from her arms. "'Tis the maids, comin' tae collect the bathtub."

Quickly regaining his composure, he went and opened the door a crack, hiding his nakedness. "I'm nae finished," he told the maids. "Can ye come back in a quarter of an hour?"

"Aye, we'll come back," Raven heard Laurel say. There was some giggling as Arne shut the door and turned to her. Expecting him to laugh, she was dismayed to see the coldness was back.

"What's wrong," she asked, confused at his drastic change in mood.

"Whatever happened just then, forget it. And just remember, this daesnae change anything between us. We're nae a good idea, Raven."

In her vulnerable state, the cruel words stung Raven deeply. "I dinnae understand. Just now, ye were…" she began, her voice trailing off as he glowered at her, his eyes hard and cold.

"'Tis fer the best," he told her gruffly.

Burning from the humiliating rejection, without another word, she went to the door and opened it. Thankfully, the maids had gone. She shut Arne's door and ran across to her room. Once inside, she locked her own door behind her.

For the second time that day, she gave way to bitter tears over Arne MacLeod.

Arne tossed and turned all that night, feeling terrible about the way he had humiliated Raven. He was shocked at himself for leading her on like that quite deliberately, flaunting his naked body, his arousal, then leaving her so vulnerable when they had been interrupted by the maids. None of it had been her fault.

He had been totally caught up in the pent-up passion of the moment, wanting her desperately, and there was no doubt in his mind they would have ended up in bed together if the maids had not disturbed them. That had been like a cold shower, jolting him back to reality.

The barriers had suddenly come up again. He had been furious with himself for allowing his desire for her to overwhelm him like that. He had been furious with her for… for being so desirable and making him want her so much. He honestly did not know how he was going to face her again after what had happened.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, after a couple of generous drams of whisky, he fell into a fitful sleep where he was plagued by nightmares.

When he awoke, he had his duties to see too, and he managed to avoid Raven altogether until Thorsten's bedtime rolled around. He came face to face with her in the hallway outside their son's chambers.

Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes dull and sad. She looked as if she had not slept either. She stood stiffly, her chin high and proud, her hands clasped at her waist. She looked at him unsmiling, and she spoke to him with cold civility.

"Since I'll be leavin' soon, I'd like yer permission tae put Thorsten tae bed this evenin' like ye dae. I dinnae ken when I'll be seein' him again."

After a moment's hesitation, Arne agreed. How could he not? But he almost regretted it when they went in, and he witnessed Raven's extraordinary bond with their son. She sat where he usually sat, on the bed, cradling Thorsten next to her as she read him one of his favorite stories. It was about a brave princess who saved a prince from a dragon who was holding him captive and planned to eat him.

The little boy cuddled up to her in perfect contentment, sucking his finger in concentration and laughing at the funny voices she put on for all the different characters, just as Arne himself would do. Watching their two black, shining heads so close together and the tender way she stroked Thorsten's hair, making sure he was warm and comfortable before she kissed him goodnight unleashed a fresh storm of emotions within Arne.

He finally admitted the truth he had been trying to deny since pulling her from the sea half dead. For all the walls he had built around his heart to protect himself, he had never stopped loving her.

They went down to dinner in tense silence. At dinner, the self-recrimination returned with a vengeance. His heart ached when she sat next to him and hardly spoke to him throughout the whole meal, while chatting easily with Haldor and Sofia and the other guests. He bent over his plate, pushing his food around, wanting to speak to her but not daring to.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed she hardly ate anything, He felt like a monster for making her so unhappy. But he justified his behavior by telling himself it was better this way. If he gave into his feelings, she would only hurt him again.

However, at one point during the meal, Haldor had spoken to him quietly. "What's the matter between ye and Raven?" he asked. "I thought ye were gettin' along better."

"We are," Arne lied, determined not to admit what had happened. He could see Sofia watching him too, which made him feel even more awkward.

"Och, aye, I can see that. She's nae spoken a word tae ye, and ye willnae even look at her. And ye both look like death warmed over. What's goin' on?"

Arne squirmed in his seat. "Naethin' serious, I tell ye. We just had a few cross words, that's all," he hedged, hoping to shut his brother up. He should have known better.

"Look, Braither, let me give ye a bit of unasked fer advice. Raven will be leavin' here soon, but while she's been here, she's proved herself a good and loving mother tae Thorsten. Even if ye cannae let go of yer mistrust of her, ye should put it aside fer his sake. Whatever ye've argued about, I suggest apologize tae her."

Arne knew he was right, but it still rankled.

"Why d'ye nae take her fer a wee stroll after dinner? 'Tis a fine evenin'. Take her somewhere private and bury the hatchet. Mark me words, ye'll feel much better afterwards."

"Ach, alright," Arne agreed finally. "I'll ask her, but 'tis nae guarantee she'll

say yes," he grumbled.

"Just try it," Haldor finished with an encouraging smile before turning back to the general conversation.

Arne waited on tenterhooks for dinner to end, gathering his courage, waiting for the right moment to speak to her. When she looked as though she was about to leave, he saw his chance.

"Raven, I wondered if ye'd like tae go fer a walk with me in the gardens. I'd like tae talk tae ye about somethin'," he blurted out.

She looked at him for a few moments gravely, her lovely eyes searching his face. He honestly thought she was about to tell him to go to hell. But instead, she nodded and replied calmly. "Alright."

So, they bid Haldor and Sofia and the rest of the company a good night and went out into the tranquil gardens. They walked side by side in awkward silence for a little while along the graveled pathways in the falling dusk. A luminous sea of yellow primroses stretched away beneath the trees.

"What is it ye want tae talk tae me about?" she asked finally.

Arne struggled to find the words. "I wanted tae apologize tae ye fer… fer what happened last night." He saw her cheeks flush as she turned her head and looked away across the lawn. "I find it hard tae explain the way I feel. I'm nae much good with emotions."

"Ye didnae seem tae have much trouble explainin' it last night," she said flatly. "Ye were quite clear about it. Ye cannae trust me."

"Aye. I admit I have trouble with that. But I shouldnae have acted the way I did, and I want ye tae ken I'm sorry fer it."

"Well, that's a sort of apology, I suppose." She suddenly stopped, looked at him, and said, "If that's all ye wanted tae say tae me, I think I'll go indoors."

"Nay, stay, please, I'd like tae talk some more," he said, anxious to keep her there. But then he noticed a strange expression on her face. She sniffed the air.

"D'ye smell smoke?" she asked, casting about them.

He sniffed, and the unmistakable smell of burning assailed his nostrils. "Aye, I can smell it. 'Tis probably the gardeners burnin' leaves."

Then, she pointed over towards the training ground and the soldiers' barracks and said in an urgent tone. "Nay, look, over there. Smoke. I think there's a fire."