Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2) (25 page)

How could she feel his body tremble, she wondered, when her own body would not stop shaking.

"This is wrong," she said, in a puny effort to justify allowing him to take her body.

"No, not wrong, Mara. I have tried to stay away from you, but I cannot. Touch me, beloved; let me have what belongs to me."

Words were not necessary as she arched her hips in invitation. With a strangled groan he thrust forward, and soon they were locked in furious lovemaking. So long had they been apart that Tajarez, who was usually gentle with her, was almost at the point of being brutal. He was aware of what he was doing, and the fact that he might be hurting her, but his body and not his mind had the upper hand.

Mara felt as if her body was not hers, but an instrument that belonged to Tajarez to do with as he wished. When she was sure she could not stand the beauty and the pain of it for a moment longer, her body seemed to explode, and she was making little whimpering sounds. But that was not to be the end, for many times Tajarez took her to the point of total exhaustion, only to find her strength renewed. It could have been minutes, and it could have been hours, as he mastered her body. At last he saw her strength was all but spent. His desire, which he had been trying to hold in check so he could satisfy her, erupted simultaneously with hers, and they lay in each other's arms, his mouth covering hers in a long, drugging kiss.

As Mara's desire began to wane, her body felt totally relaxed. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Tajarez raised his head and stared down at his sleeping wife. He had aroused her passion, but she had not remembered that he was her husband, he thought sadly. He kissed her eyelids, which were framed by long, silky lashes. "Where do we go from here, beloved?" he asked softly, but Mara did not hear, nor did he expect her to.

He got up and dressed, his eyes never leaving her silky body. He picked up his sleeping son, placed him beside Mara, pulled the robe over them both, and left quietly.

He had all but forgotten his purpose in coming to Mara's tent, which had been to make peace with her. She had not forgiven him for the incident involving her saddle and had hardly spoken to him in many days. Her anger toward him had been like a pain in his heart, and he had thought to appease her, but when he had seen her nursing his son, all thoughts had left his mind, and he had been driven by his unbridled passion. Their lovemaking had been as beautiful as it always was, but something was missing; she had not said she loved him; she had not known that he loved her.

19

Give me your hand: take what I offer you, says he.

I asked, what do you want of me.

He answered, immortality.

Mara awoke during the night and reached out her hand, hoping to find Tajarez lying beside her, but she was alone with little Andrew. When she became fully awake, she was appalled by her wanton behavior.

Dear Lord, she thought frantically, what sort of woman was she that she would let a man take her the way she had allowed Tajarez to? There was a name for women such as herself. He was a married man and had two children. A terrifying thought came to her. Had she allowed him to make love to her in the past?

She sat up quickly. Was Andrew his son? She remembered him kissing Andrew last night. Oh, no, please not that. How would she ever face him again?

Did Jeffery know about her and Tajarez? Did the others?

The wind pushed against the tent, and she felt its icy cold touch her naked body. Fumbling around in the darkness she found her nightgown and slipped it over her head. Then she snuggled down in the warm fur rug. She tried to push all thoughts of Tajarez's lovemaking and her response to him out of her mind. One thing was certain—tomorrow she would demand to know if Andrew was his son.

She vowed she would never allow him to make love to her again. She lay awake, tortured by her troubled thoughts, and when the sun made its appearance, she was awake to greet it.

Much to her relief, Tajarez was not among the warriors who surrounded her, nor was her brother, and she was grateful for the absence of both, for she was afraid her brother would read the guilt in her face, and Tajarez, of course, already knew of it.

When they stopped at noon for her to feed Andrew, Tajarez and Jeffery had not yet appeared, and when they set up camp for the night there was still no sign of either of them.

"I do not see why you are so concerned. After all, Mara is your wife. You were married to her in two different ceremonies. I know of no one who is more married than you and my sister," Jeffery said as he and Tajarez rode into the darkened camp.

Tajarez dismounted, and one of his warriors rushed forward to take his mount. He waited for Jeffery to dismount before he spoke again. He lowered his voice so only Jeffery could hear him speak.

"You do not seem to understand. This could get out of hand. I almost told Mara last night that I was her husband, and I am not sure it would have been a bad thing, either. Knowing Mara as I do, I am sure she has started having recriminations for what happened between us last night. Would it not be better for her to know she is my wife, than to think that I took her out of lust and not love?"

"I do not know. All I know is what the doctor said. We are no more than a week from home. Could you not wait until you talk to the medicine man? A week is not so long to wait."

Tajarez's eyes sought Mara's tent. "I do not think I can wait that long to hold her again. When I am near her all my good intentions go for naught."

Jeffery had long ago become accustomed to the easy manner in which the Lagonda viewed the act of love. Not that they talked about the intimate details of what took place between a husband and wife, but they had a healthy attitude toward sex, and never talked of it in hushed tones as if it were something to be ashamed of. Their attitude made it seem beautiful, the ultimate experience between two people who loved each other. When Jeffery had courted Sasha she had been shy and untouched, but on the night of their wedding she had come into his arms without hesitation, and she had given herself as trustingly and as openly as if she were not the inexperienced virgin that he had found her to be.

"You could always ride on ahead and greet her when she entered the Cities. By that time you could have spoken to the medicine man, and he might advise you to tell her that you are her husband."

"No! I will not leave her until she is safely inside the hidden valley. Too many things have happened to her in the past. I will stay with her. I will go and speak to her now, and perhaps try to justify what happened between us last night."

Andrew was sleeping peacefully and Mara was dressed in her long white gown and was braiding her hair into a long golden rope when the tent flap was pulled aside and Tajarez entered. Even though her back was to him she knew it was Tajarez. When he was near her there seemed to be a charge of electricity in the air. Turning slowly to face him, she raised her head proudly.

"I am glad you have come," she said, giving the illusion of feeling much more calm than she actually did. At the sight of his handsome face, her insides seemed to turn to mush.

As he had done the night before, he removed the outer wrap that he wore for warmth and let it fall to the robe that covered the ground. The evening before he had worn a fringed shirt with long sleeves, but tonight he wore no more than a beaded vest, and around his upper arm he wore an armband of the purest gold.

"You want to speak to me about last night?" he asked as he sat down at a safe distance from her and motioned for her to do the same.

She reached for a robe and pulled it in front of her modestly. Tajarez smiled inwardly at her gesture, thinking he knew her body better than she did.

"Yes, I have some questions I would like for you to answer for me. This is very hard for me, so I will try to be brief."

He nodded, but said nothing.

"First of all, I would like to ask if you and I have ever before been together as we were last night?"

Tajarez was silent for a moment, trying to decide how to answer her. Then he said, "I have been with no woman but my queen in over two years, by the way you measure time."

"I see. That answers my second question, then. Andrew could not be your son."

Tajarez wanted to shout at her and tell her that Andrew was not only his son, but that he had fathered two other children by her. But he did not.

Mara lowered her head and tried to suppress a sob. If he was not Andrew's father, then she had been with another man, maybe more than one. She was a more despicable woman than she had thought at first. No wonder Jeffery kept her in the place he sometimes referred to as the hidden valley. He could not allow her to live among decent people.

"I will never allow you to come near me again. I would kill myself before I would let you touch me as you did last night," she finally said.

"You are assuming that I would want to touch you."

Mara's head snapped back as if he had delivered a mortal blow to her. So deeply did his harshly spoken words wound her that tears gathered in her eyes.

"I cannot blame you. You must despise me for what I am."

Tajarez closed his eyes against the horror he heard in her voice. "What do you think you are?"

"I know there is a word for women like me, but I do not know what it is. Please go."

"If that is what you want."

He stood up, willing his legs to take him out of the tent. Mara hoped she could keep from breaking down in front of him. The blast of frigid air told her he had opened the tent flap. When she no longer felt the intense cold she knew he had departed, and she opened her eyes.

Sobs that she had tried to smother broke the silence of the tent, and she threw herself down on the fur robe and cried brokenheartedly. She knew why she felt as if her heart had been ripped to shreds and why she felt like the lowest form of life. She was in love with another woman's husband, and she had just been rejected by him.

The pain was so intense she could not stop crying. She was not aware that the tent flap had been jerked open and that Tajarez knelt down beside her. He lifted her into his arms.

She buried her face against his shoulder, loving the feel of his strong hands that ran up and down her back soothingly. She did not mean for him to see her cry, but she could not seem to stop. All the months of not knowing who she was and not knowing where she belonged, coupled with her discovery that she was a wanton female, made her tears fall all the more freely.

In her misery she lifted her face to tell him how sorry she was about her tears, but the words never issued from her mouth.

"I was going to be strong for both of us, Mara, but I cannot. I want you," he whispered against her lips.

There was no denial in the kiss Mara gave him. Her lips clung to his hungrily as she became limp and pliant in his arms.

As before, she found herself lying naked in his arms. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she could not stop the raging fire within her body. She felt herself being pushed back against the soft fur and tried not to think how wantonly she was behaving.

"I cannot be around you without wanting to love you, Mara," he said softly in her ear. "You are to me as food is to a man dying of starvation." He made love to her slowly, lingeringly, and when they lay in each other's arms afterwards, he kissed her softly.

She curled up contentedly. So much for her decision not to let him make love to her again, she thought, knowing she would never be able to resist him. At that moment it did not concern her overmuch. She wanted only to stay in his arms and hear him murmur lovely words in her ear.

This time he did not leave her as he had before, and she was glad. She fell asleep, and he picked Andrew up when he began to fuss and laid him between them. Mara awoke, and he watched as his son nursed hungrily at her breast, feeling a great love for his wife and the tiny infant.

When Andrew fell asleep, Tajarez moved him to the other side of Mara and pulled her into his arms. Words of love tumbled to his lips. He did not voice them, but his hands became intimate, and Mara clung to him.

They made love again, and this time when she fell asleep, he left her quietly.

Now he came to her nightly. They would make love, and when she fell asleep, he would leave her. Mara knew he was being thoughtful by leaving, wanting to spare her any embarrassment she might feel if the others knew he spent his nights with her.

She no longer tried to resist him. When he came to her tent she would run into his arms in a way that delighted him. He waited for her to say she loved him, but she did not.

One night, after they had made love, she lay quietly in his arms, and he wanted to know what she was thinking.

"Why are you so quiet?"

"I was wondering about the woman who is your queen."

"Are you asking me to tell you about her?"

"Yes, what is she like?"

He hid a smile against her golden hair. "She is the loveliest of women. Her hair is indescribably beautiful. Her eyes are haunting, and show her feelings. I can read her thoughts through her eyes; they speak if she is happy, sad, or angry."

Mara closed her eyes, not really wanting to hear any more, but curious all the same. "You love her very much?"

"I adore her."

"Then why do you come to me each night?" she asked, not really wanting him to tell her it was purely physical.

"You are a very lovely, desirable woman. I cannot seem to stay away."

Pain knifed through her heart at his words. He had told her what she already knew, he loved his queen, but he desired her. "Do you know who is the father of my baby?"

"Does it matter so much?"

"Not to you, but I would hate it if one of the Lagonda warriors who ride beside me each day was Andrew's father and I was not aware of it."

"He is not one of my warriors."

"I have come not to like myself very much lately. At times I feel remorse for allowing another woman's husband to make love to me, and at other times I try not to think of it at all."

"You are saying that your mind is ruled by your body?"

"Yes. I wonder what my brother would say if he knew about you and me?"

His hand slipped underneath her chin, and he stared down at her. "Mara, is it just that I hold your body, or is it possible that I hold your heart?" he said, changing the subject.

Mara considered telling him that she loved him deeply, but saying the words out loud would make it too real. Once they reached his home they could no longer meet like this, and if he knew of her love, it would only arouse his pity. The words he had spoken about his wife had been beautiful. There was no doubt that he loved her. Some sixth sense told her that men did not like clinging females, especially when they had a wife they loved.

"I doubt that I know what true love is, Tajarez. If you want love, you should seek your wife."

His hand tangled in her hair and he jerked her forward painfully. In a strange way he felt as if he was his own rival, competing with himself for her love.

"And if I do not seek love, I can always come to you," he said savagely as his mouth ground into hers with a punishing force. He was hurting her and he knew it, but he was angry with her and she did not know why. Pitiful whimpers were escaping her throat as she fought against him. She twisted and turned in his arms, trying to get away from him. She could hardly breathe, and his hands were cruel as they untangled from her hair and ran roughly over her body.

"If lust is all you want, I will give you lust," he growled. He took her brutally. Her fists pounded at his chest with no more effect than a leaf blowing in a strong wind.