his muscled upper arms. The temptation to follow the light’s path, to rake her fingers through his chest hair . . . she swallowed hard, steeling her determination to see this night’s mission through.
Standing at the edge of the mattress, careful not to bump it, her attention flickering between his closed eyes and the ring, Gwendolyn reached out to snare the prize.
Beginning to sweat, her pulse pounding in her ears, with thumb and forefinger she squeezed the gold dragon claws on each side of the ring. Slowly, gently, she worked the ring to his knuckle, where the skin bunched and hindered further progress.
“Pull harder.”
Gwendolyn yelped as she leaped away. With her hand covering her thundering heart, she stood motionless, her sudden fright giving over to rising panic.
Caught. Run!
Except she couldn’t move, frozen in place by wide-open green eyes that held no hint of sleep.
“Pull harder, Gwendolyn. Remove the ring.”
His flatly delivered command confused her. Why was he not angry at her attempted theft? Did he truly mean to let her have the ring? Why didn’t he move so much as an eyelash? A niggling sense of something amiss caused her to hesitate.
Wary, she asked, “Remove it?”
“Want of the ring is why you braved my chamber in the middle of the night, is it not?”
He knew it was. “You denied me the ring before. Why relent now?”
“Gwendolyn, remove the ring.”
A hint of impatience colored the repeated order. Sweet mercy, why did she question her good fortune that he’d changed his mind? This time she leaned against the edge of the mattress and put a hand atop the coverlet to brace for balance. Nor was she so careful not to touch his hand.
She gripped the ring firmly and pulled hard, twisting it when she thought that might help. Again it refused to slip over the bunched skin at the joint. Soon his finger reddened and began to swell from the harsh rubbing of gold against skin. When she feared she might hurt him, she let go.
“You will have to take it off and give it to me.”
With a deep sigh he rolled onto his back, exposing more of his broad chest than she cared to see, bringing his right arm from beneath the bolster. The muscles in his arms tightened and strained with his effort to remove the ring, but it remained stuck.
“I cannot get it off, either. Care to try again?”
No, she didn’t. “Your finger swells. Perhaps if we put it in cold water for a bit?”
“I tried that. It did not work.”
The hair on the back of her neck itched, but she dismissed the unease over the stubborn ring as unwarranted. She then forgot to think at all when Alberic tossed the coverlet aside and revealed . . . everything.
Sweet Mother Mary! Her hands flew to cover her eyes. Beneath her palms her face grew overly warm with a ferocious blush.
Alberic had the gall to chuckle over her embarrassment.
“Come now, Gwendolyn. In two days’ time we will be husband and wife. Are you not even a wee bit curious?”
She refused to peek between her fingers. “I have already seen more than I ought.”
The ropes supporting the mattress groaned. Gwendolyn took a healthy step backward as his feet hit the floor, then took another prudent step back when she sensed him rise up before her. Though what good so little space would do her should he decide to grab hold of her, she couldn’t say.
“Odell?” he called out.
“My lord,” came the answer from beyond the door.
Almost, her hands slipped from her face. Odell awake, too? Obviously the sleeping potion she’d given both men hadn’t been strong enough. But it should have been; neither man should be so lucid.
Damn.
Had she not used enough of the potion? Or worse, had she used too much and turned the ale unpalatable so they hadn’t drank it all?
“Relieve the extra guards at the postern gate,” Alberic ordered. “Their services are no longer necessary tonight.”
“Not good that I should leave my post.”
“I will bar the door. I doubt I am in
Standing at the edge of the mattress, careful not to bump it, her attention flickering between his closed eyes and the ring, Gwendolyn reached out to snare the prize.
Beginning to sweat, her pulse pounding in her ears, with thumb and forefinger she squeezed the gold dragon claws on each side of the ring. Slowly, gently, she worked the ring to his knuckle, where the skin bunched and hindered further progress.
“Pull harder.”
Gwendolyn yelped as she leaped away. With her hand covering her thundering heart, she stood motionless, her sudden fright giving over to rising panic.
Caught. Run!
Except she couldn’t move, frozen in place by wide-open green eyes that held no hint of sleep.
“Pull harder, Gwendolyn. Remove the ring.”
His flatly delivered command confused her. Why was he not angry at her attempted theft? Did he truly mean to let her have the ring? Why didn’t he move so much as an eyelash? A niggling sense of something amiss caused her to hesitate.
Wary, she asked, “Remove it?”
“Want of the ring is why you braved my chamber in the middle of the night, is it not?”
He knew it was. “You denied me the ring before. Why relent now?”
“Gwendolyn, remove the ring.”
A hint of impatience colored the repeated order. Sweet mercy, why did she question her good fortune that he’d changed his mind? This time she leaned against the edge of the mattress and put a hand atop the coverlet to brace for balance. Nor was she so careful not to touch his hand.
She gripped the ring firmly and pulled hard, twisting it when she thought that might help. Again it refused to slip over the bunched skin at the joint. Soon his finger reddened and began to swell from the harsh rubbing of gold against skin. When she feared she might hurt him, she let go.
“You will have to take it off and give it to me.”
With a deep sigh he rolled onto his back, exposing more of his broad chest than she cared to see, bringing his right arm from beneath the bolster. The muscles in his arms tightened and strained with his effort to remove the ring, but it remained stuck.
“I cannot get it off, either. Care to try again?”
No, she didn’t. “Your finger swells. Perhaps if we put it in cold water for a bit?”
“I tried that. It did not work.”
The hair on the back of her neck itched, but she dismissed the unease over the stubborn ring as unwarranted. She then forgot to think at all when Alberic tossed the coverlet aside and revealed . . . everything.
Sweet Mother Mary! Her hands flew to cover her eyes. Beneath her palms her face grew overly warm with a ferocious blush.
Alberic had the gall to chuckle over her embarrassment.
“Come now, Gwendolyn. In two days’ time we will be husband and wife. Are you not even a wee bit curious?”
She refused to peek between her fingers. “I have already seen more than I ought.”
The ropes supporting the mattress groaned. Gwendolyn took a healthy step backward as his feet hit the floor, then took another prudent step back when she sensed him rise up before her. Though what good so little space would do her should he decide to grab hold of her, she couldn’t say.
“Odell?” he called out.
“My lord,” came the answer from beyond the door.
Almost, her hands slipped from her face. Odell awake, too? Obviously the sleeping potion she’d given both men hadn’t been strong enough. But it should have been; neither man should be so lucid.
Damn.
Had she not used enough of the potion? Or worse, had she used too much and turned the ale unpalatable so they hadn’t drank it all?
“Relieve the extra guards at the postern gate,” Alberic ordered. “Their services are no longer necessary tonight.”
“Not good that I should leave my post.”
“I will bar the door. I doubt I am in
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