Medieval 01 - Untamed

I will have my heirs.”
    â€œâ€™Tis a good thing the sultan’s harem nursed you back to health,” Simon said. “Your wife won’t have cause to complain of her treatment when it is time to make heirs. The harem girls were admirably trained.”
    For an instant, Dominic thought of getting Meg in his bedchamber, of fanning her hair like soft fire across the pillows before he opened her thighs and sheathed himself in another kind of soft fire. His blood ignited like dry grass at the image.
    â€œThe trick is to get a girl into the bedchamber,” Dominic said irritably, trying to cool the heat in his blood.
    â€œI doubt there is a female in this keep who wouldn’t be delighted to take your staff in hand.”
    â€œThere’s one,” Dominic said dryly.
    â€œThe elusive Margaret.”
    Lady Margaret hadn’t been the woman Dominic had been thinking of at that moment, but he said nothing. Instead, he began drying himself vigorously.
    â€œThe lady will come to heel soon enough,” Simon said after a moment. “She is noble born. She may not like her duty, but she will do it. As for the rest, there are always the wenches around the keep. Or the gifted Marie.”
    â€œA pretty whore, but a whore nonetheless. Ibrought her and her like for my knights, not for myself. I don’t want trouble with my vassals over their daughters.”
    â€œI know. I’m the only one who believes it, however.”
    Dominic grunted and continued rubbing himself dry rather forcefully. The thought of one of his knights catching the maid from the mews alone made cold rage uncoil in Dominic’s gut.
    â€œI had better warm my knights once again,” he said flatly. “They will neither harry nor harrow unwilling girls. Particularly none with hair the color of fire, skin like fine cream, and eyes to equal a sultan’s most prized emeralds.”
    Simon lifted his eyebrows in silent surprise. “I thought you didn’t care for ‘whey-faced wenches.’”
    â€œThere is a difference between cream and whey,” Dominic retorted.
    â€œYou sound quite taken with the wench. That is unlike you.”
    Dominic shrugged. “She is an unusual maid. Cleaner by far than the average country lass, graceful of limb, and with delicate hands.”
    â€œYou always preferred the ripe and willing type, a rose full-blown and eager for the bee’s sweet sting.”
    â€œAye.”
    â€œIs she willing?”
    The smile Dominic gave his brother made Simon laugh.
    â€œShe will be,” Dominic said. “She was taken with me, though she was nervous of it. Ah, what a joy she will be to seduce. She was made for spring, the season of desire. There will be no winter for the man who sleeps within her warm sheath. She will—”
    Abruptly Dominic stopped speaking and turned toward the sound of hurrying footsteps.
    â€œLord Dominic,” called the squire from beyond the drapery.
    â€œWhat is it?” Dominic asked impatiently. “Have you found her?”
    â€œLady Margaret’s handmaiden wishes to speak with you. Most urgent it is, lord.”
    â€œGod’s blood,” muttered Dominic.
    He wrapped the drying cloth around his hips, grabbed his cape, and whirled it around his shoulders to ward off the chilly drafts.
    â€œWhy is it the only women you can find are the ones you don’t wish to see at all?” he grumbled.
    Simon opened his mouth to speak, but Dominic wasn’t finished.
    â€œWhey-faced whelp of a temple whore…” he said beneath his breath. “God’s eyes, but she is a tiresome female.”
    â€œIs that a yea or a nay to Eadith’s request for an audience?” Simon asked.
    â€œSend the good widow in,” Dominic said in a normal tone.
    Eadith must have been listening closely. The drapery shifted and she walked in. When she realized how little Dominic was wearing, her eyes widened into a stare.
    â€œSpeak,” he said irritably. “Where is your mistress?”
    â€œLady Margaret begs your understanding. She is indisposed,” Eadith said hurriedly.
    Yet despite her unease, Simon noted that the widow’s pale blue eyes fairly ate every bit of the lord who stood unconcerned before her, fresh from his bath.
    Dominic glanced at the handmaiden’s pale features, flaxen hair, and thin lips, and wished himself once more back among the Saracen women. Their darkly golden skin