Master of Mayhem (The Enchanted Well #2)

Chapter Thirteen

I t was Ruben Lindsey calling out to her.

Sabine had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.

The fact that it was Ruben she saw filled her with joy as well as relief. His eyes narrowed, telling her that he’d seen her.

Unlike her, he had the strength to wade through the mud. He pulled her to her feet with a soft grunt.

“Thank Christ you found me,” Sabine muttered gratefully.

Ruben fixed her with a hard look. “Scotland is no place for an English woman, Sabine. Ye did nae have cause to run as though ye have nae been made reasonably welcome.”

Disbelief gripped her. There was a flicker of anger in his eyes. He shook his head before he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her onto the bank. Although hauled was a much better description of the way he moved her.

“I did not run away,” Sabine argued the moment she was back on her feet.

Ruben didn’t believe her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Eachan says he saw ye go into the river, Sabine.”

She pointed back at the river. “Those…tailors had me wrapped in a shroud. One of them was going to use a rock to crush my skull! I only went into the river to escape being bludgeoned to death like a rabbit.”

He didn’t believe her.

Ruben’s expression was tight and unyielding. She felt more helpless against it than she had in the grip of the river.

Her temper flared up. “I do not lie!”

Doubt flickered in his eyes. “Ye tried to leave yesterday, Sabine. I did nae ruin ye last night when I had the chance. There was no reason to risk yer life by jumping into the river.”

Sabine felt her temper flaring. “I have never lied to you, Ruben.”

They stared at one another for a long moment. He was huge and impossibly strong, but she refused to back down. There was a need inside of her that demanded she prove she was just as strong as he was.

“You aren’t the only one who maintains their honor,” she added. “Even if you think I’m a lightskirt—”

“I never called ye such a thing,” he interrupted her.

“You don’t need to,” she cut back. “I know I encouraged you.”

Ruben drew in a stiff breath. “Ye should nae have risked yer life over the matter, Sabine. I will respect yer wishes.”

He still thought she’d lied. It was intolerable. Sabine shook her head, backing away from him. “I have little enough, but I have my integrity. Grady and his fellow guild member Ronald were going to crush my skull so I can’t teach anyone else to knit. That is why I went into the river.”

She grabbed two handfuls of her soaked skirts and lifted the fabric up so she could leave. But it seemed that even the elements were against her departure. The wind gusted straight in her face. Thunder boomed above her head so loudly, it felt as if the very ground shook.

A combination of hail and rain came with the wind. Sabine turned back around, unable to quell the urge to protect her face from nature’s onslaught.

Ruben caught her wrist. “Come.”

Sabine truly wanted to resist, but the wind lashed at her, chilling her to the bone.

But where might they go?

She suddenly realized wasting time arguing had been a poor choice. The sky was nearly black above their heads. The storm was powerful. She should have been more concerned with finding shelter.

Now it was too late.

Ruben pulled her along behind him. He didn’t duck his head to avoid the onslaught of the hail. No, he was suited to his environment. People in London had nothing good to say about the Scots, but Ruben and his people survived because of their strength.

It was admirable.

“Here, lass.” Ruben went to go between two huge boulders. It looked as if his shoulders wouldn’t fit but he turned sideways and disappeared, pulling her along behind him.

That quickly they were sheltered from the storm. Beyond the boulders, there was a cave. On one side it was open to the sky but that was off to the side, so the rain only hit the tops of the rocks. The ground was dry here and the rocks protected them from the rain.

“We’ll do well enough here.” Ruben released her wrist. “Best to take off that dress while I start a fire.”

“A fire?” Sabine asked hopefully.

“Aye,” Ruben answered without looking at her. He was surging out of his doublet. He hooked it on a stick that was near to where he was building the fire for it to dry. The fabric of his shirt was wet and translucent.

He went to a corner of the cave. He was on one knee, the sound of breaking wood hitting her ears. “With the English on our land, this is a place we keep ready.”

He struck a flint. Bright sparks fell down to the place where he’d begun to build their fire. She heard it pop and crackle, light dancing on the stone walls.

The place was ancient and timeless. With the storm raging around them, a strange sense of detachment filled her.

The rest of the world and what it thought did not matter. The need she’d felt to fight for her life renewed its grip on her, filling her with a hunger for everything she had never experienced.

She’d been trapped in her drab dress too long. Ruben was right. She could never return to her father’s house. Her life was here with Ruben.

She was eager to move forward into the next chapter of her life.

Without a doubt the seeds of wantonness had sprouted inside of her. Sabine tugged and pulled on the laces that bound her inside of the garment. The fire warmed the cave nicely, making it a delight to strip the wet, soiled fabric off of her.

The water had left her skin feeling soft and clean.

There were other sticks near the one Ruben had placed his doublet on. She moved over to them, putting her dress onto them. The fire warmed her legs. It dried the thin fabric of her chemise so that the bottom edge of it started to float freely again.

Ruben was watching her.

Or it felt like he was.

Her heart was thumping away inside of her chest. The next few seconds felt impossibly long while she tried to work up the nerve to turn around.

Would he be waiting for her? Or was he still thinking that she’d lied to him?

Sabine turned around. Ruben was indeed watching her, his expression guarded. She went toward him, discarding any further thinking. She lifted her hands and put them around his neck.

“Sabine….” His voice was husky.

“I want to finish what we began last evening,” she whispered.

His hands settled on her hips, the hold sending a jolt of awareness through her belly. That spot that he’d rubbed the night before began to pulse with longing.

“Are ye certain, lass?”

She felt the heat from his body warming her. It was just the sort of mingling that made her feel complete. She was astonished to realize that she had never realized how alone she’d felt. She traced the corded muscles of his neck, shivering at the way their bare skin felt when it touched.

“I am.”

And she wasn’t interested in talking any more. Sabine rose onto her toes, eager for his kiss. Ruben met her halfway, smoothing his hands across her back and wrapping his arms around her.

She shivered in response.

He claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss But it wasn’t rushed. It was needy and hungry. He kissed her long and hard while she kissed him back.

Ruben lifted his head, locking gazes with her. “I thought the old woman mad when she said I was enchanted by the well, but the truth is, I cannot quell my desire for ye, Sabine.”

He opened his belt, catching the folds of his kilt with a practiced hand. He turned and spread it on the floor with a snap before he faced her once more.

“And I intend to have ye, lass.”

He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. He lowered her down, joining her on their makeshift bed.

It seemed so very natural. Not the awkward mess she’d imagined in her maiden’s bed in the alcove of her parents’ home.

There was harmony in the way their limbs entwined.

Obedience was the last thing on her mind, though. Sabine reached for him, stroking his shoulders and kissing him in return. When he trailed his kisses down the column of her neck, she gasped, feeling as if the flames flickering on the rocks were a reflection of the heat burning inside of her.

Need was a pulsing thing inside of her.

Like any hunger, it continued to grow, and there was no denying it. That spot at the top of her sex was throbbing intently now. Her thighs were open because she couldn’t bear to close them. He stroked her again, wringing a cry from her when he touched that little bud.

“I want more than what you gave me last night.” Sabine didn’t recognize her own voice. It was needy and craven. She was poised on the top of some peak, desperately needing to fling herself into the void beyond.

“As do I, lass,” Ruben assured her. “Ye must be ready though…”

“I am ready…”

He pressed her down, cupping the mound of her breast in one hand. A new jolt of enjoyment went spearing through her.

“Ye can be more ready…,” he tempted her in a harsh whisper.

He brushed her nipple with his thumb. It drew into a hard tip, like she was cold, but she certainly wasn’t shivering. Well, not from a chill anyway.

Sabine was wonderfully warm. Every bit of her skin ready to be bare. She rolled over and sat up, wrestling with her smock to pull it off.

Ruben made a soft, male sound of approval in the back of his throat before he reached up and pulled his shirt off. A bolt of lightning illuminated the cave, granting her a perfect view of his bare body.

He was magnificent.

And fearsome.

She opened her arms, inviting him back into her embrace. He pressed her back down onto the fabric of his kilt, his body weight pleasing her.

Nothing had ever felt so good or right. Her body was made to fit against his. He settled between her thighs, the tip of his cock nudging the folds of her sex.

She shifted, unable to remain still. Every touch was intense. Her passage pleading for something she wasn’t entirely sure of what it was, only that she couldn’t endure being denied it.

He pressed forward, filling her. It was hard and almost too much but her hips rose out of instinct. For a moment she was held in the grip of pain and then he was inside of her. Filling her and satisfying that ache that had been gnawing at her. Her bud began to pulse again, demanding motion.

Ruben knew the motion. She learned the rhythm from him, rising and falling in a tempo that seemed to come from deep inside of her bones. It built, rushing toward a peak that she might only guess at. When they reached it, pleasure broke through her more powerfully than any she’d ever experienced.

She twisted and held tightly to her lover while the intensity of the sensation wrung her. Just as it was finishing, he thrust hard into her and stiffened. She heard him growl before his seed burst inside of her.

Another tremor responded deep inside of her belly. It left her gasping, claiming the very last of her strength. Blackness came to claim her like a cloak of satisfaction being wrapped around her. She happily surrendered to its hold, rolling with Ruben so that his back was on the floor and her head on his chest.

There truly could be perfection on earth.

*

Ruben wasn’t sleeping.

Perhaps he might claim it was because of the fact that anyone might stumble upon them, and he was keeping watch.

But he knew that was not the truth of the matter.

Closing his eyes would be squandering the moment. He’d never felt so satisfied before. He was filled completely by the sensation. Every little breath Sabine took pleased him even more. There in the darkness, he could smile and indulge his enjoyment.

She was draped across his body. Their legs entwined and her face resting on his chest. He tucked his kilt up and around her shoulders so that the chill would not wake her.

Outside the storm was moving away from them. He knew their time was dwindling. He drew in the scent of her skin and felt his cock stir.

She’d be too tender for that.

He stroked her hair instead, slowly cradling her head. But he detected a different scent, one that made him frown.

This was metallic and something he recognized. It made his body draw tight.

Blood.

He brought his hand closer to his face. His fingertips were slightly wet. In the dim light he couldn’t really see it, but he knew the scent of fresh blood.

“Grady and his fellow guild member Ronald were going to crush my skull so I couldn’t teach anyone else to knit. That is why I went into the river.”

Sabine’s words rose from his memory. He returned his hand to the back of her head, gently digging into the strands of her hair. Sabine shifted when he found the broken skin there.

She hadn’t lied to him.

Ruben felt something shift and tighten inside of him. The need to seek justice was something he’d felt before, but this was far stronger.

Grady and Ronald would be answering for their actions.

*

Ruben was still holding her when she woke. He was behind her, while they both lay on their sides like a pair of spoons.

Sabine could tell the storm had broken but she kept her eyes closed. She wanted to savor the moment. She’d been told to expect perfection only in the afterlife, but it certainly felt as though she was experiencing it there in Ruben’s embrace.

“I do nae wish to rise either, but I fear we should.”

Ruben pressed a kiss against the back of her head.

“We shall both have to be patient until the sun sets.”

Ruben pulled the length of his kilt off her. He gave it a shake before he began to pleat it on the floor. The evening air was crisp, prodding Sabine into going to where her dress was. The wool was still damp in spots, but it would be warmer than her shift.

She had no idea what to say. She felt awkward but happy at the same time. There was no shame though and that surprised her.

“Do nae fret, Sabine.”

Sabine looked over to find Ruben watching her.

“I am not,” she muttered softly.

He tilted his head to one side, clearly doubting her. She smiled at him, and it was a sincere smile. One of his eyebrows rose before he extended his hand to her.

He’d done that at the well…

This time she placed her hand into his without hesitation. His lips twitched into a smile before he was tugging her out of the shelter. On the other side of the boulder, they could see that the weather was much better.

Ruben’s horse nickered. Sabine watched as he greeted the animal with a firm stroke on the side of its muzzle. “Aye, it’s time to go home.”

Ruben led the animal up to the road. He turned back to look for Sabine. She took the last step as Ruben grasped her waist and lifted her up and onto the back of the horse. He swung up behind her.

“I plan to keep ye for the rest of yer days, Sabine. Best get accustomed to it, lass,” Ruben warned her.

Nothing had ever pleased her more!

*

Norrie came hurrying out from the kitchen when they rode into the stronghold.

“The laird is calling for ye,” the young maid informed Ruben. She lifted her hand and gestured them inside.

“Your father will be worried, no doubt,” Sabine muttered.

“Supper is served,” Norrie added incentive for them to enter the hall.

Sabine headed up the steps, but she stopped before going into the kitchen because Norrie looked at the ground. Her cheeks were pink.

Perhaps Norrie knew what Sabine and Ruben had done.

Such was impossible, of course, but Sabine found herself hesitating to enter the kitchen. Ruben clasped her hand and pulled her along beside him.

Norrie wasn’t the only member of the staff acting oddly. The maids in the kitchen were hushed. They took quick glances at Ruben and Sabine before swiftly returning their attention to their work. Ruben offered her a reassuring squeeze from his hand on the way to the opening to the hall.

Conversation was hushed in the hall as well.

Sabine looked up to where the laird sat. Oisin was there with a young girl seated beside him.

“Father.” Ruben stopped and tugged on the corner of his bonnet.

“My son,” Oisin greeted him with a formal tone. “This is Neilina Douglas, yer bride.”