Medieval 01 - Untamed

out.”
    With deceptively lazy grace, Dominic picked up one of the sweets. He popped it in his mouth, rolled it around on his tongue, and then bent to Meg.
    â€œTaste me, small falcon.”
    A delicate network of fire shivered over Meg’s nerves as she looked at Dominic’s cleanly definedlips. They appeared hard, as though cut from stone, yet she knew them to be wonderfully warm and yielding.
    Dominic watched his bride, understanding her with the same ruthless clarity he did men, potential battle sites, and fortified towns. Each had its strengths, but it was the weaknesses that mattered to him. In weakness lay defeat.
    Meg’s weakness was her need to believe in love.
    Come to me, Glendruid witch. See in me what you want to see. Betray your living fortress to me. Lie open and undefended for my taking .
    Give me the son I must have .
    Slowly Meg pressed her mouth over Dominic’s. When he made no move, she touched the tip of his tongue with her own and quickly retreated to watch him with wide, wary eyes. He raised his eyebrow in silent question.
    â€œSweet, but not lemony,” Meg said in a low voice.
    â€œAh. We’ll have to try again, won’t we?”
    Dominic discarded the candy and selected another one. When the taste of the sweet filled his mouth, he looked expectantly at Meg. This time she came to him without hesitation, tasted him less warily, and withdrew with less speed.
    â€œBetter?” he asked.
    â€œYes…”
    â€œBut not what you sought?”
    Slowly Meg shook her head.
    â€œThen we’ll just have to keep trying,” he said.
    She nodded, smiling slightly.
    Dominic’s smile was a trifle wolfish, but Meg didn’t notice, for he had turned away to make his choice among the remaining sweets. In an increasingly taut silence, he selected another, offered it for her sampling, and felt the warm stirring of her tongue within his mouth.
    The suspicion Meg had that Dominic knew quite well which candy was lemon-flavored strengthened with each sweet tried and discarded, but she didn’t object. The honeyed kisses were addictive, and the sensual game was more delectable than any Turkish candy.
    Finally only one sweet remained. Meg watched with languid eyes as Dominic put the candy between lips that were shining from the heat of their shared kisses. He didn’t have to ask her to taste him. She lifted her face to him as eagerly as a falcon lifts her face to the sky.
    The piquant taste of lemon spread through Meg, drawing a sound of pleasure from the back of her throat. Dominic moved his head a fraction.
    â€œIs this the one?” Dominic asked against Meg’s lips.
    â€œAye.”
    â€œShare it with me.”
    As Dominic spoke, he lowered his head. This time the kiss didn’t stop until the last bit of sweet was melted and Meg didn’t know whether she was kissing him or he was kissing her, for their mouths were so deeply joined that she couldn’t have said where one ended and the other began.
    When Dominic finally lifted his head, Meg was breathing quickly, lost to the kiss, her body flushed from the delicate network of fire that had bloomed beneath her skin. She opened eyes that were hungry, languid, sensuous; and she saw herself being watched by eyes as cold as she was warm.
    â€œYou have tasted my mercy and found it sweet,” Dominic said distinctly. “But a wise man shows mercy only once to the same person.”
    Meg went still.
    â€œNever fight me again, small falcon. That is the favor I ask of you.”

16
    W ITH EACH PASSING DAY , M EG’S promise not to defy Dominic grew more difficult to honor.
    â€œBut my garden,” she protested as Dominic stepped out her door. “I must—”
    â€œOld Gwyn is tending it,” Dominic said across Meg’s words. As he spoke, he pulled the door to her room shut behind him. “I’ll be back before the noon bells ring.”
    â€œBut when will I be freed?” she cried to the sound of his retreating footsteps.
    â€œWhen there can be no doubt that any babe of yours is also mine. I’ll come back soon, small falcon. In the meantime, remember your promise to me.”
    Making a sound of frustration, Meg hit the door with her fist, setting her golden bells to jangling in distress.
    â€œâ€˜Remember your promise,’” she mimicked in disgust. “Pah! How can I forget it? I’ve had little else to think about these past three