Anita Mills by The Fire & the Fury

Author:The Fire & the Fury
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

For a long time, Giles lay awake listening to the even breathing of the woman beside him. And the exultation he felt was tempered by fear—a cold, deep, painful fear that he would be punished for taking Elizabeth of Rivaux for wife—that God would exact a terrible price for this attempt at happiness.

Forcing his thoughts away from the nightmares that would haunt him, he eased his body against Elizabeth’s, feeling again the warmth of her, remembering her fire. Her breath, where it brushed against his bare arm, sent a surge of renewed desire through him.

Telling himself that she could not be but exhausted from the journey, he nonetheless allowed himself the luxury of touching her, of proving in the darkness that she was in truth there in the flesh, that he had possessed Guy of Rivaux’s proud daughter. His hand moved over her bare skin lightly, tracing again the curve of her breast. The nipple hardened against his palm as he brushed over it, and his mouth went dry with the remembered taste of her.

She was so very beautiful, far lovelier than any memory he could carry of her, and yet he lay there in the darkness trying to see her again in his mind. Twice he’d had her, twice he’d heard her moan low as her desire had risen to match his own, and still ’twas not enough. Aye, he was enough of a beast that he’d take her again ere he slept. He’d ease his body even if there was no help for his soul.

His hand skimmed lower, brushing over her rib cage, feeling the smooth, nearly flat plane of her belly, moving to the softness below. Her breath caught for a moment, then she turned beneath his hand, sighing in her sleep, shaming him. Aveline had been right— he was no better than a rutting boar.

Reluctantly, he drew his hand back. ’Twas better to burn than to give Elizabeth a disgust of him, he told himself forcefully. Besides, he’d not have her conceive too soon, for then she’d leave him. Taking care not to waken her, he rolled away. The bed ropes creaked as he rose to search for the wineskin. He shivered as the cold night air enveloped him, lessening the heat of his desire.

After pouring himself a full cup, he carried it to the low bench on the other side of the brazier, where he wrapped his naked body in one of the drying sheets and sat. For a time, he stared into the few valiant coals that remained of a dying fire. Jesu, but he chilled. With one hand he shifted a half-burnt log onto them, then as it popped and settled to catch anew, he leaned back with his cup.

He drank deeply, trying to forget Aveline, trying to forget the nameless ones who had screamed for mercy as the flames engulfed them, and he knew God had not forgiven him yet. His gaze dropped from the fire to his scarred hands, and he saw again the proof that he was damned.

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