The Golden Barbarian (Sedikhan #1)

Chapter 2

“What are you doing?” Tess asked from the doorway of the stable.

Galen turned toward her. The light of the setting sun behind her sharply silhouetted her slender figure, seeming to etch her hair in dark flame. “My horse was bitten by a snake on the way to Dinar, and the wound is infected,” he explained slowly.

“It’s getting dark, you’ll need a lantern.”

“I was about to light one.”

“I’ll do it. Don’t leave him.” She moved quickly to a lantern hanging on a post near the door. On a ledge below was a flint and stone. She struck them together, flame flared, and a moment later she was carrying the lighted lantern to Galen.

He could see the shadow of her limbs through the thin blue batiste of the high-waisted gown she still wore.

She set the lantern on the ground beside the bucket and admired the horse. Her hand stroked his muzzle. “He’s beautiful. What’s his name?”

“Selik.”

“What happened to Telzan?”

“I use him for breeding now. Selik is one of his colts.”

“He’s very gentle. You don’t expect that quality in a stallion.”

He gazed at her curiously. “And what do you know about stallions?”

“Not enough. I need to learn more.” She knelt beside him. “Was the snake poisonous?”

“Yes, but it was only a glancing strike.”

“What salve are you using?”

“An herbal mixture of mustard grass and rye.”

“Have you tried mixing mint with it?”

“No.”

“It cools the flesh, which makes the animal able to tolerate greater heat from the cloth.”

“How do you know?”

“I experimented with several herbs when one of the Count’s mares developed a strain.” She reached past him, unwound the cloth from around Selik’s ankle, and gently stroked the horse’s ankle. “Just look. Have you ever seen such delicate bones?”

Her bones were far more delicate, he thought. He felt as if he could crush her with one careless caress. He could see the tracing of blue veins at her wrist, and the steady pounding of the pulse at her temple a few inches from his own. “Exceptional.”

“One has to wonder how ankles such as those ever manage to support all that weight.” She dipped the cloth in the bucket and squeezed out the excess moisture. “We’re going to need more very hot water.”

“I’ll get it.” He stood up, took the bucket to the door, and threw out the water, then turned and strode over to the kettle and filled the bucket again. “What count?”

“Hmm?” Her brow was knotted in concentration as she wrapped the ankle. “Oh, the Count de Sanvene. He owned the estate next to the convent. He had a fine stable of horses, but not one to compare to this boy.” She sat back on her heels to look admiringly up at the stallion. “Do you have many horses like Selik?”

“No horse is like another.”

“I agree.”

“The sisters let you visit the Count?”

“Not at first. I had to sneak away.” She grimaced. “I can’t tell you how many times I was caught and sent to the Reverend Mother for discipline.”

“How old was the man?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I never asked him.”

“Guess.” Galen heard the sharpness in his voice and tried to temper it as she glanced at him in surprise. “Young?”

She shook her head. “He had grandchildren, I think.”

Galen felt a little of his tension melt away. He brought the bucket of steaming water to her side. “You liked him?”

“I liked his horses.” She nodded. “He was quite irritable at first, but when he saw I could be useful around the stable, he became almost pleasant.”

“Almost?”

“Well, he didn’t shout at me anymore, and he visited the Mother Superior and convinced her to let me come twice a week.”

“How did he do that?”

“He assured her he would watch over me, and he told her I had a healing talent with animals. He also said he was sure Saint Francis of Assisi would have approved of my helping the beasts.” She chuckled. “It was the first time I’d ever been compared to a saint. The Reverend Mother was very surprised.”

“So the good Count acquired a new stableboy?”

“I didn’t mind. I loved being with the horses. They made the convent bearable.” She turned to him, her face alight with eagerness. “Someday I’m going to have a fine stable and breed horses like Selik and Telzan.”

He found his gaze following the graceful line of her throat down to the upper swell of her small breasts bared by the low neckline of her gown. Her fair skin possessed an incredible sheen. He wondered how soft it would feel to the touch.

“And I’ll have dogs and perhaps carrier pigeons.” She took the bandage from Selik’s ankle. “Don’t you think that would be a happy life?”

“No fashionable salon?”

Her laughter rang out. “What would I do with a salon? I cannot imagine anything more boring than sitting around reading poetry and discussing Voltaire and Rousseau.”

The strong herbal smell mingled with the scent of lavender and soap that emanated from her. He bent closer, letting the fragrance invade his senses, and felt an urgent quickening in his loins. He had not expected this to happen so quickly. Dammit, he did not want it to happen yet. His body was readying itself to enter her—and she was more aware of his horse than of him.

She glanced at him. “We can’t leave for Sedikhan tomorrow. Selik won’t be ready.”

He went still. “The next day will do as well.” He waited for a moment and then asked casually, “I take it this means you agree to the arrangement?”

“Of course.” She looked at him in surprise. “You knew I would.”

“Let’s say I thought there was a reasonable chance.”

“Say what you like. You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist what you offered.” She dipped the cloth in the hot water. “I think the poison is drawing, but not enough. We’ll have to keep bathing it and applying fresh salve for most of the night. I’ll take the first watch. You go rest.”

“I can do it alone.”

“Why should you? It’s better with two.”

He did not argue with her. He needed to have her powerfully united with him, and this shared experience would be an important beginning. He smiled and rose to his feet. “You’re right, most things are better with two.” He strolled over and sat down on the fresh hay spread in the empty stall across from Selik’s. “You take the first two hours. I’ll take the next two.” He drew his knees up and linked his arms loosely around them, his gaze on Tess Rubinoff. She moved with a neat, economical grace, every motion purposeful and full of vitality. The short puffed sleeves of her gown revealed exquisitely formed bare arms flowing into small, capable hands that were wonderfully gentle as she touched the horse. What a rare blend of strength and fire lay beneath that delicate exterior. Small women had never appealed to him, yet he felt the muscles of his stomach clench painfully as he thought how tight she’d be around him as he plunged in and out of her body—

He tried to rid himself of such thoughts as he drew back into the shadows and leaned his head against the rough wall. He did not want Tess to become aware of his body’s reaction to her at the moment. She was filled with soaring hope and plans for the future—precisely the emotions he had hoped to arouse in her.

* * *

She was being lifted from the straw of the stall and carried.

“Sacha?” she murmured sleepily.

“No. Shh, go back to sleep. I’m only taking you to your chamber.”

Galen. Her eyelids felt too heavy to open. “Selik?”

“Hell be fine. It’s almost morning.”

Cool air struck her face as Galen carried her out of the stable. She roused. “You’ll have to change to cold compresses now to take the swelling down.”

“I started to use cold water while you were dozing.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You worked very hard. You deserve your sleep.”

Her lids lifted slowly. Galen’s face was only inches from hers. She stared dreamily at the sharp molding of his cheekbones, his well-shaped lips. She had not noticed his lips before because his large dark eyes so dominated his other features.

He must have become aware of her study, for he looked down at her.

He smiled. “Sleep, kilen . All will be well. I promise you. You can trust me.”

She remembered his inflexible determination, his quiet tenderness toward Selik during the past hours. Yes, she could trust him.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to go back to sleep, safe in Galen’s arms.

* * *

The marriage between Tess and Galen was performed by Father Francis Desleps in the Cathedral of the Holy Redeemer at three o’clock the following afternoon. Galen followed Muslim customs, but he was a Christian…and a man with a powerful influence over Father Desleps. Galen had succeeded in getting a very fast special dispensation for them to marry, so there would be no thrice-published banns and other preliminaries to their wedding.

Tess felt strange kneeling before the altar with Galen at her side. But surely it would have felt strange with any man, she assured herself. Marriage only occurred once in a lifetime, and it was unlikely one would get accustomed to the ceremony. She smiled.

“You have been smiling for some time now,” Galen commented after they had thanked the priest and were walking back up the long aisle. “May I ask what’s so amusing?”

“I was just thinking it was quite ordinary to be feeling so peculiar. After all, marriage occurs only once.”

“Occurs? You make it sound like an act of nature.” He took her arm and helped her down the steps to the cobbled street. “And it’s not inconceivable that you should marry again. Life in Sedikhan isn’t the safest existence, and wealthy widows are much sought after.”

“I shall never marry again,” she said positively. “Why should I submit to that trap? My life will be very pleasant without a husband getting in my way.”

“Husbands have certain uses.”

“Protection? I can hire servants for that.”

He helped her into the carriage waiting in front of the church. “I wasn’t thinking about protection. More in the nature of…companionship.”

“Most husbands are dreadful companions. They’re too busy pursuing other ladies to furnish a wife with adequate company.” She leaned back in the carriage. “No, a woman is much better off with no man about to trouble her.”

He leaned back on the seat and gazed at her, smiling faintly as the carriage started with a lurch. “We shall see if you continue in your opinion. There must be some reason the state of connubial bliss still exists.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Practicality. A man must be sure of his heirs, and a woman cannot have the father of her children deserting her after the first flush of passion fades.”

His dark eyes were watching her impassively. “Is that what happens?”

She nodded positively. “Of course. You know it yourself. I’d wager you never thought of Lady Camilla or that other woman again after you had your way with them.”

“Oh, I thought of them.”

She frowned. “You did? When?”

“Whenever my body needed a woman.”

Her cheeks grew hot, and she looked hastily away from him. “That isn’t thinking, that’s lusting.” She leaned forward and gazed out the window, and was immediately rewarded with a glimpse of a familiar sign. “Oh, there’s that interesting café. I asked Sacha to take me there, but he refused.” She turned to Galen. “Will you take me…tonight?” She added quickly, “Providing Selik is doing well, of course.”

“Naturally, any bridal repast would have to be postponed if Selik isn’t in the pink.”

“Why are you smiling, Galen? We both know this ceremony has no importance.”

“It’s of the utmost importance.”

She gestured impatiently. “You know what I mean—only the alliance is important. Will you take me to the café?”

“Why not? I owe you a supper for your labor with Selik last night, and it may prove an enlightening experience for you.”

“I like it,” Tess announced, her gaze roaming the noisy café. The boards of the wooden floor were warped and sagging, and the torches affixed to the walls sent out plumes of smoke that stung the eyes and made the air blue with haze. “Isn’t it exciting, Sacha?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Of course I should be here.” She glanced mischievously over her shoulder at Galen as she sat down on the chair he was holding for her. “I’m a married woman, and therefore privileged to go where I wish. Isn’t that correct, my lord?”

“Within certain limits.” Galen’s expression was impassive as he glanced around the room. “However, I see little to recommend this establishment.”

“How can you say such a thing?” Tess folded her gloved hands on the scarred table. “It’s perfectly splendid, and I’m sure the food will be excellent.”

“Providing there are no cockroaches in the stew.” Sacha sat next to Galen and motioned to a burly servant.

“There were no cockroaches in the stew on board the ship. The food was a bit boring, but the cook was clean, and I’m sure that—Is that a strumpet?” Tess stared at a fair-haired woman in a dirty green dress who sat on a sailor’s lap. “She’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”

“Prettier than most of her breed,” Sacha said as the waiter unceremoniously plopped down three glasses and filled them with red wine from a huge leather carafe slung on a strap about her neck.

“Breed?” Tess frowned. “I don’t like that word. It makes her sound like a horse or a cow.”

Sacha waved the waiter away as he appraised the woman’s huge breasts spilling over the neckline of her gown. “There are some similarities, you must admit.”

“I do not admit to anything of the sort. She’s a woman, not an animal. She obviously lets herself be used because she has no other means to support herself.”

“And what about your Pauline?” Galen asked softly. “Why does she let herself be used?”

“Pauline isn’t a strumpet, she’s…” Tess hesitated, thinking about it. “She’s not overly bright and has few interests. Perhaps she does it to keep from becoming bored.”

Sacha choked on his wine. “Quite possible. She certainly applies herself to…er, entertaining herself.”

Tess knew they were laughing at her, but she didn’t care. The subject of physical pleasure was not really important to her except as a curiosity. This place was too interesting to waste time on trivialities. “I’m hungry. May we eat now?”

“But of course.” Galen’s lips quirked. “It’s a husband’s duty to satisfy his wife’s…appetites.”

“Stop it, Sacha.” Tess giggled helplessly as Sacha swung her in a wide circle all the while moving across the courtyard toward the inn. “You’ve had too much to drink. We’ll both end up in a heap on the ground.”

“You insult me,” said Sacha, looking owlishly at her. “You think I can’t hold my wine. This is a felicitous occasion, and I’m merely happy. Extraordinarily happy.”

“You’re extraordinarily drunk.” Tess smiled indulgently as she steadied him against the door-jamb. “You would think this was your wedding day by the way you’re celebrating.”

“I’m celebrating because it’s not my wedding day.” Sacha’s smile faded, and his eyes filled with morose tears as he touched her cheek with a gentle finger. “Poor little imp.”

“She seems to be doing better than you are at the moment,” Galen said as he caught up with them. He threw open the door. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.”

“Not necessary.” Sacha lurched through the door toward the staircase. “I’m perfectly able to—” His foot slipped on the second step, and he pitched forward.

“Perfectly able to fall flat on your face.”

“I stumbled,” Sacha said with dignity. “How do they expect a man to see to get up the stairs with only one candle left burning?”

“Strange that I have no trouble seeing.” Galen helped Sacha to his feet and slipped his arm around his waist. “I’ve just finished nursing Selik, and have no intention of acquiring another patient.”

“Are you comparing me to a horse?”

“Only when you’re sober. When drunk, your intellect bears a distinct resemblance to that of a sun-addled camel.”

“Insult upon insult.”

“What else can you expect from a barbarian?” Galen started up the steps, bearing at least half of Sacha’s weight.

Sacha began to sing beneath his breath.

“Shall I call his servant?” Tess asked.

“Sacha no longer travels with a servant.” Galen paused to shift his hold and drape Sacha’s arm about his neck. “Said takes care of both of us when we travel.”

“Indeed?” Tess closed the front door and watched them climb. “How odd.” The Sacha she had known had always traveled with a full entourage of servants ranging from cooks and valets to grooms.

“Not so odd. Servants get in the way when traveling in the desert.” Galen had reached the top of the steps and looked down at her. “Go to your chamber. I’ll join you shortly.”

She felt the smile freeze on her lips as shock rippled through her. “You will?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Tess muttered. What else could she have expected? This was her wedding night, wasn’t it? A child was part of the bargain, and she was no ninny, ignorant of how one was conceived. Yet he had said he would give her time, and she had thought—

“Tess,” Galen said softly over his shoulder. “Go to your chamber.”

Tess nodded jerkily and flew up the staircase, edging around him and Sacha to get to her chamber. She should not feel so disappointed by Galen. She knew that few men kept their word to the women of their households. She slammed the door behind her and pressed back against the panels, her heart pounding wildly, her cheeks fever-hot. It would not be so terrible once she got used to it. Pauline had actually liked being mounted. Tess had often heard her beg for it.

But Tess was not Pauline.

Still, she had made a bargain and must keep her part of it.

Undress. She knew that was part of it. To ready herself for the act, she must shed her clothing. She should be unclothed when Galen came to her.

Tess drew a deep breath and pushed away from the door. Her fingers went to the delicate pearl buttons marching down the back of her spring-green gown.

Five minutes later she was completely nude and lying beneath the covers. The room was warm. There was no reason for her to be shivering. Everything would be fine. Pauline liked it, and the woman at the café had not seemed to mind when the sailor fondled her bre—

The door opened. Galen stopped just inside the door and lifted the candle he carried. He saw Tess huddled against the oak headboard and his lips tightened with displeasure. “How delightful to have such an accommodating bride. I admit I didn’t expect to find you so compliant.”

“I don’t feel compliant.” Her voice was trembling, and she forced herself to steady it. “I have no liking for this.”

The grimness faded from his expression. “Then why are you being so meek?”

“It’s not meekness. It’s honor. We clearly cannot have a babe if I do not accept you into my body.”

“I see.” He closed the door behind him. “But I believe I told you I could wait for consummation.”

“But you said—” Relief surged through her. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“I keep my promises. You’ll be the first to know when I change my mind.” He set the pewter candle-holder down on the closest table, removed his coat, and laid it across a chair. “I have no intention of forcing you.”

“It wouldn’t be force. A bargain is a bargain.”

“It’s a quirk of mine that I prefer enthusiasm to forbearance.” He untied his striped cravat and pulled it off. “You may not conceive a child at once, and I dislike the idea of you gritting your teeth every time I touch you.”

“I cannot promise you enthusiasm.” Her hand clutched more tightly to the blanket. “I don’t think I’ll care for it. Though I admit I’m a little confused by it all. Pauline likes it, but I have seen mares mounted by stallions that don’t look as if they’re very…”—she paused, searching for the correct word—“comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” He smiled. “No, there’s little comfort in it. And I can’t promise you there will be no pain, but I believe you’ll find it interesting.” He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. “When I show you the way of it.”

She stared at his powerful muscles. They ridged his shoulders, grew large on his upper arms, and chest. Her gaze followed the black triangle of hair on his chest to where it disappeared into the waistband of his black trousers. His flesh looked like burnished bronze. A queer fluttery feeling started in the pit of her stomach. “If you aren’t going to fornicate with me, why are you removing your clothes?”

“I’m going to bed.”

“With me? Why? You have a chamber of your own.”

His lips twisted. “Unlike the nobility of Tamrovia, in Zalandan husbands and wives not only sleep in the same chamber but the same bed.”

“How peculiar. I should think the lack of privacy must be something of an imposition.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I suppose I’ll become accustomed to it.”

“I trust so. Lower the cover.”

She stiffened, her eyes widening. “What?”

“Sit up and drop the cover. I want to look at you.”

Her cheeks began to sting. “I see no purpose in looking if you’re not going to do anything.”

“There’s a purpose. Lower the blanket.”

She forced herself to release her grasp, and the cover fell to her waist. She felt as if her flesh were ablaze as she lifted her chin defiantly to glare at him. “What rhyme or reason is there in exposing myself? I’m no beauty like Lady Camilla. You’ll get no pleasure from staring at me.”

“No, you’re no Camilla.” His gaze lingered on her shoulders before traveling down to her breasts. “But sometimes the smaller jewel has the most beautiful facets.”

“And sometimes the facets are so small you can’t tell whether they’re beautiful or not.” She couldn’t breathe. Her breasts felt tight, yet they were swelling under his gaze. “May I pull up the blanket now, my lord?”

He slowly shook his head, his gaze never leaving her breasts. “I think not. I believe we’re making progress.”

“Toward what end?”

He smiled. “Why, to the end of becoming accustomed to each other. From now on you will sleep naked in my bed, and I will fondle and caress you whenever I am moved to do so.” He sat down in the chair by the door, pulled off his left boot, and dropped it on the floor. “Kneel on the bed, facing me.”

She didn’t look at him as she threw aside the blanket and knelt on her haunches, facing him. “You cannot be enjoying this.” She heard his other boot drop to the floor. “I believe you’re doing this to shame me.”

“Don’t you like to have me look at you?”

“It makes me most uncomfortable.”

“You shouldn’t be uncomfortable. You’re quite lovely.”

She snorted derisively. “I have hideous red hair and eyes too big for my face and—”

“The most exquisite breasts and limbs I’ve ever seen.”

She inhaled sharply and kept her gaze fastened on the wall behind his shoulder.

“You don’t believe me?”

She swallowed. “No.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to furnish proof. Look at me.”

Her gaze moved reluctantly from the wall. He was naked, standing perfectly at ease, his legs slightly astride, a brawny study in sleek bronze and black.

Her eyes widened as they traveled down his body to rest on his rampant arousal.

His gaze followed hers. “Proof,” he repeated softly.

“You look…different.”

“Different from what?”

“From when I saw you naked before.”

“You were only a child.” He chuckled. “Besides, you saw me after the fact, not before or during. Proof is not always in evidence.” He paused. “Though I’ve had a damnable time keeping it from becoming so today.” He took the candle and started across the room.

She instinctively tensed, her gaze clinging to his.

“Listen very carefully,” he said softly. “I do find you desirable, so desirable I ache with it.” He stopped before her and set the candle on the bedside table. “Can you doubt it now?”

She couldn’t speak.

His hand reached out and touched her hair with exquisite gentleness.

“You’re so tiny,” he whispered. “Last night as I watched you, I kept thinking how tight you’d be around me. Every time I think about you, I grow hard, wondering…”

She felt as if she were drowning. He was scarcely touching her, and yet she felt a deep tingling in her palms, in the nipples of her breasts, even in the arches of her feet. She tore her gaze away from his face. “I doubt you’ll fit.”

“You know better. A female is created to accept a man.” His hand moved from her hair to caress her throat. “To want a man. A mare may not appear to enjoy mating, but haven’t you seen one back up to a stallion, looking over her shoulder, wriggling her tail at him?” His thumb pressed the hollow of her throat, and she knew he could feel the leap of her pulse beneath the pad of flesh. “Do you know how much I’d like to have you do that for me?”

Shock caused her body to flinch. “I’m not an animal.”

“I meant no insult. Sometimes my words have no grace.” His hand left her throat and both arms fell to his sides. “I’m not entirely undressed. Help me.”

She gazed at him in bewilderment. What was he talking about? He was already naked.

He turned his back to her. “The ribbon tying my queue. Unfasten it for me.”

She rose onto her knees and with trembling fingers tried to unfasten the black grosgrain ribbon binding his hair. Her breasts brushed the warm flesh of his back. She felt a shudder go through him. She tried to arch away from him as she worked at the knot, but she brushed him again. This time the shiver that went through him was echoed by hers. Her breasts were aching, the nipples pebble hard, a strange throbbing between her thighs. What was happening to her? “I can’t seem to—Perhaps you’d better do it.”

“No.” His voice was guttural. “In Zalandan it’s traditional for a wife to do this. It symbolizes that only she has the privilege to set her man free.”

But the act did not set Tess free. With every passing moment the feeling of being held and possessed by Galen was increasing. She finally managed to untie the ribbon and pull it from his hair. She tossed it on the bedside table and sat back on her heels with a sigh of relief. “It’s done.”

He shook his head, his back still turned to her. The candlelight caught the thick luster of his black hair as it flowed down to skim his shoulders, the play of muscles in his shoulders. She felt a sudden wild desire to reach out and stroke those muscles, tangle her fingers in his mane and pull him down to—

He turned to face her, huge, primitive, untamed. His eyes were glittering, a dark strand of hair now fell over his forehead, the rest of his loosened hair framed his face. His nostrils flared then, slowly, he slid both palms down his thighs in blatant invitation. Tess gasped, the muscles of her stomach clenching. He had not touched her, but she felt as if he had drawn her against his body with that one sensual gesture.

“Lust can arouse the animal in any of us, kilen . As I hope you’ll soon discover.” He drew a deep, harsh breath and closed his eyes tightly. “Dear Lord, very soon.”

His lids flicked open, and he stepped back. He leaned forward and blew out the candle.

Tess supposed she should have felt relieved, but the darkness only made her feel more vulnerable.

She could see Galen’s shadowy bulk before her, she could smell his scent.

“Lie down.” Galen’s low voice vibrated with tension. “I can’t take any more. It’s over for now.”

It had not really begun, Tess thought dazedly. He had only touched her hair and her throat, he had only looked at her body and murmured a few words of need and desire. Why did she feel this sense of bondage?

“Now.”

She scrambled under the cover and moved to the far side of the bed.

The next moment she felt the mattress give under Galen’s weight.

He lay beside her, not touching her, every muscle hardened with tension.

She lay beside him, her heart pounding, the odd throbbing in her groin.

“I don’t understand what this is all about,” she said haltingly. “Why?”

His voice was thick, his breathing harsh in the darkness. “I’ll have you the way I want you or not at all.”

“It’s only for the babe. What difference does it make?”

“A great difference.” He was silent for a long moment. “We are two civilized people. I will not play stallion to your mare.” He was silent, and when he spoke again, his tone was fierce, desperate. “Because, by God, I am not a barbarian.”