Season Of The Sun by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Medieval
Publisher: 0
Published: 2011-01-16T23:39:41.101000+00:00

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She shook her head. “It merely happened, that is all, nothing more.”

His mouth was a grim line. “It will happen whenever I wish you to have those feelings. You won’t ever pull away from me again, Zarabeth.”

“What will you do?” she asked without interest.

“I don’t know,” he said, surprising himself at his immediate honesty with her.

She looked up at him for a very long time. Finally she whispered, “What do you want from me, Magnus?”

The slave collar glittered in the hazy light. He drew a deep breath. “Question me not further, woman.

You are disobedient and insolent. Just don’t press me, Zarabeth.”

Again she said, “What do you want from me?”

“Come,” he said abruptly as he rose. “What I want is to have you in my bed.”

She stood slowly, starkly aware in that moment of what had happened between them, for her body was sore and her legs were weak, and there was still a gentle pulsing deep inside her, a reminder of what he’d done to her, of what he’d made her feel. Aye, she felt a softness and a warmth, she couldn’t deny it, yet at the same time she wished she could have lain there beside him whilst he had touched her and felt nothing, nothing save her hate for him, which wasn’t hate and never had been, but now she felt raw and exposed and helpless and there must be hate for him, for he had brought her to it. She submitted silently as he straightened her clothing, then laced up the front of her gown. He smoothed the skirts on her legs and pushed back her tangled hair from her face. “You no longer look like a maid,” he said, and grinned down at her.

“It matters not,” she said, and shrugged. “I knew you would force me. I also knew that you could not really touch me, only my body. I expect that my body would react thus to any man’s touch.”

He had told her not to press him, but she had. She waited, watching the pulse in his throat, saw the tight lock he had on his jaw. His eyes were cold now as he stared down at her, and he seemed to be struggling with himself. Finally he merely took her hand and pulled her with him. He shortened his step to match hers. Neither said another word until they reached the palisade.

All was silent in the longhouse as he led her to his chamber. He still said nothing, just motioned her to remove her clothing. She turned away from him, refusing to let herself care, and slipped out of her clothes and under the wool blanket. He continued silent, merely stripped and came into the bed beside her. He drew her into his arms, ignoring how she stiffened against him. Magnus awoke toward morning and reached for her. She wasn’t there. He was instantly awake. He roared out of bed, paused to gain control of himself, then walked quietly to the children’s small chamber.

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