“Cimastown is just over that hill.” Bronson pointed at the horizon.
Anna nodded as she walked beside him, her legs aching. She looked forward to sleeping inside tonight in a real bed rather than the hard forest floor. Her face heated and she cast a sideways glance at Bronson. He’d explained to her that they would exchange vows before a priest in a private ceremony soon after arriving in Cimastown. That meant she wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.
Nerves twisted her stomach and her heart fluttered, beating faster at the thought of sharing a bed with Bronson. As excited as these thoughts made her, she was still angry he wouldn’t allow her to leave the island. She was certain he was exaggerating about the dangers in an attempt to frighten her. When she’d tried to reason with him this morning and convince him to release her, he’d warned her that his decision was final and any further discussion on the matter would take place with her turned over his knee.
Her bottom tingled as she recalled the spanking he’d given her last night. It had been painful enough to bring her to tears, but the comfort she derived in his strong embrace afterward left her confounded. She’d practically melted into him, and she’d sighed with contentment as he stroked her hair and rocked her gently. She didn’t understand how she could feel so peaceful and strangely happy in the arms of a man who’d just given her a long, hard spanking.
Bronson took her hand as they neared the top of the hill. Once the village came into sight, he paused and drew her close, placing an arm around her shoulders.
“Look at me, Anna.”
She met his eyes. A lump lodged in her throat, and a moment later the flutters of warmth she was just beginning to understand quickened in her inner core. His commanding presence frightened and aroused her at the same time. Ever since he’d appeared at the inn last night, she’d been unsettled and conflicted. He stirred feelings within her that she didn’t quite understand, and he’d also managed to make her question her decision to leave the island. What if he wasn’t exaggerating and it really was as dangerous as he claimed? The blasted man had planted a seed of doubt.
“Anna,” he began, “a fight is raging in the city right now and being the daughter of King Mendel, let alone having any noble blood, is dangerous. I know you think this is sudden, but the plans were laid out months ago after I learned of the movement to overthrow your father’s regime. You were my first thought, my first concern, when I learned of those plans.”
Something inside her softened as she listened to his explanation, staring silently into his dark brown eyes as a gentle breeze swept over the hill and ruffled their clothing. She swallowed hard, her anxiety increasing. In a short time, she would become his wife, whether she liked it or not. “Is this a secret?” She glanced down at her feet. “I mean, are the townspeople to know who I really am?”
He smiled. “I would never have you pretend to be someone you are not, little dove. A few in the town already know of my plan to bring you back, including the priest you will meet shortly. Once we say our vows, I’m sure word will spread, but you have nothing to fear. You will be safe here.”
“The people will hate me.”
“No. They will love you for doing the right thing.” He clasped her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Come, let’s go meet the priest.”
Reluctance and a sense of doom weighed Anna’s feet down as she descended the hill, each step bringing her closer to the small town that would be her new home. A bird with a massive wingspan floated over the rooftops, and she stared at the creature with envy, wishing she could fly away from all her troubles. The bird dipped down and then swooped upward into the sky, before heading into the mist coming off the water. She squinted, trying to get a good look at the sea. The sun hadn’t yet burned the morning fog away, and she frowned at her surroundings, wondering where the docks rested.
As if reading her mind, Bronson squeezed her hand and spoke. “There’s only a small dock for fishing boats here. There’s a harbor several miles down the shore where trading ships used to dock, but it hasn’t been used in years. The town there has become a ghost town. I’ll take you there someday. There’s an old ship that was abandoned after an illness killed most of the crewmembers on board, and it’s been anchored in the middle of the harbor since before we were born. Sometimes you can spot a sea dragon sunning itself up on the deck.”
A sense of excitement filled Anna at his promised adventure, and her steps suddenly felt lighter. At least she wasn’t restricted to staying within the castle walls anymore. At least she could breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the breeze coming off the sea. She inhaled the scent of the water and gasped as the fog began to lift, more quickly than she’d imagined. She glanced to her left where the rising sun spilled bright rays of golden light across the hills and sandy beach further down. The houses and buildings in the town were mostly clustered close together, but she noticed a few smaller houses, cottages really, tucked into the hillside to her right as she kept pace beside Bronson. She wondered which house belonged to him, and her face heated as she imagined their first night alone as husband and wife. A second later though, her earlier anger and resentment at having this choice forced upon her made her halt in her tracks, and she wrenched her hand from his grasp.
“Anna,” he said in a warning tone, turning to face her with an eyebrow raised.
His stern features made him all the more handsome, the scar on his cheek making him look ruggedly so. He was nothing like the gentle princes who’d come to court her sisters, and yet he was nothing like the cruel Lord Edmund whose cold eyes had prompted her to hide behind her governess’s skirts as a child.
In another lifetime, perhaps she would’ve fallen for a man like Bronson, a strong man with good morals and a level head upon his shoulders. But in this lifetime she was a princess, the daughter of a corrupt king hated by the very people he was supposed to protect, and she couldn’t fathom how her marriage to Bronson might be a happy one. Surely he didn’t love her. The idea was ridiculous. They hadn’t seen each other in years.
“Why?” she asked, taking a step back. “Why are you doing this?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean? I thought I explained the situation adequately last night. You don’t have any other options, little dove.”
An exacerbated sigh left her. “We might have known each other when we were children, but we’re not children anymore. We’re strangers, Bronson. I’m not your concern. We’re nothing alike.” I don’t know why you care. I won’t make a good wife. She pressed her eyes shut for a moment, then met his gaze and hoped he didn’t notice the moisture she felt burning in her eyes.
To her surprise, his jaw tightened and his body tensed. “You’re about to become my wife, Anna. You are very much my concern. I’m sorry I’m not a prince with a kingdom of my own, or a wealthy noble with dozens of servants at my beck and call. I made a deal, the only deal I could possibly make, to secure your safety.” A bitter note had crept into his voice, and the hardness in his glare made her shudder.
She started to protest again, but he shushed her and reached for her hand, practically dragging her toward the town. His pace didn’t slow once they entered Cimastown, and she felt weary from their travels and wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a long nap. The townspeople scattered up and down the street gave them a wide birth, but their curious stares filled Anna with a sense of unease. Surely they would hate her and she’d never belong here.
Bronson dropped her hand and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close to the heat of his body. She stole sidelong glances at him and her heart plummeted to see the firm set of his jaw, and his eyes remained straight ahead. Not once did he turn in her direction or give her a smile of encouragement. She felt lost and hopeless as she walked beside him, and she regretted upsetting him on the hill, though he’d misunderstood her reluctance to wed him.
They rounded a corner and Anna peered up at a small church offset from the street. Peeling white paint decorated the outside, and a short stone walkway led to bright red double doors. Statues of various deities lined the walkway. Bronson finally turned to her, and her heart sank to see no kindness in his eyes.
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Do not make a fool of me in there, Anna, or you will sorely regret it.”
Anger chased away her good sense, and she straightened and glared at him with annoyance. “You don’t need any help being made into a fool.”
His eyes flashed and he leaned down as he grasped her chin between his fingers. Fear quickened her pulse, and blood pounded in her ears. “That comment, little dove, is going to cost you a very sore bottom on your wedding night.”
* * * * *
Bronson knew he was sulking over Anna’s comments on the hill, but her reluctance to marry him insulted him on every level. He was saving her from certain death, yet she resisted as if marriage to him was an insult to her noble heritage. In his imaginings of this moment—the moment they stood before the priest as they prepared to exchange wedding vows—he’d thought she would have recovered from any initial reluctance and instead look upon him as her savior. He’d risked everything to infiltrate the revolutionaries and convince them to spare her life. Had they refused, they’d likely have seen him as a threat that needed to be eliminated.
Was she seriously concerned about having to live as a commoner? He’d seen the wariness in her eyes as she surveyed the small town and the plain houses. But the sooner Anna accepted her new lot in life, the better. Hard work was the way of life in Cimastown. There were no elaborate feasts or fancy balls to attend. Everyone worked together to make the town a secure place to live. He hoped Anna found her place and would feel at home here soon, and he tried to push his annoyance over her reaction to the town away. After all, this was their wedding day.
He only half-listened as the priest read from the Iverson Book of Common Prayers, and he squeezed Anna’s hand to get her attention. She peered up at him, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. Clasping her other hand, he turned her to face him and gave her a tender look. She responded with the ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and swallowed hard just as the priest instructed them to commence repeating their vows.
Bronson went first, holding her gaze as he promised to love, honor, and cherish Anna until death parted them, and in his heart he vowed to protect her always. The priest paused and flipped a page in his prayer book, and Bronson waited with bated breath, hoping Anna obediently repeated every last word the elderly priest uttered. The moment came when the priest finished speaking the first line of her vows, and the old man stopped and stared at her with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk. He knew she wasn’t the most willing of brides.
Finally, with a trembling voice she acquiesced and said her vows, her voice growing steadier as she neared the end.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest finally said.
Relief filled Bronson, and the need to protect Anna surged through him. Moments later they signed the marriage documents, and Anna also signed a document renouncing her nobility. Officially, in the eyes of those who led the revolution against King Mendel and would one day install a new government, Anna was now simply Anna. A young bride. A commoner who posed no threat to them.
“Oh, I forgot!” the priest suddenly said, winking at them both. “You may kiss your lovely bride.”
Anna gasped and stared up at Bronson. Her lips parted, though he suspected it was due to her surprise. A pretty blush stained her cheeks and she fidgeted in place, her breath coming in quick puffs. Desire rushed through Bronson, his muscles tensing as he ached to draw his reluctant bride closer and taste her for the first time.
Cupping her face, he leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss. At first she was frozen and simply stood in place as his tongue delved into her mouth. Then slowly she softened and leaned against him, her hands coming to rest upon his chest. Her tongue met his and he became lost as lust spiraled through him. Bronson clutched her face and kissed her hard, momentarily forgetting about the priest and the fact that they were inside a church. A soft moan vibrated from Anna’s throat, and he forced himself to pull away before he became completely lost in her.
Clearly surprised by his kiss and her response to it, she stared at him with wide eyes and dropped her hands to her sides. Her chest heaved with gasping breaths. His gaze was drawn to the swell of her breasts. He brushed his thumb along her cheek and smiled.
“Come, Anna, and I will show you to our home.” He thanked the priest and escorted Anna outside into the early morning sun. With the fog now lifted, the sun’s rays reflected off her smooth brown locks, and his fingers itched to tangle in her long hair—perhaps to hold her in place as he kissed her thoroughly.
Bronson led her behind the church toward a path that led outside of town, farther up the hill that overlooked the shore. She remained silent, her brows creased as if she were deep in thought for the duration of their short walk to his cottage. They passed no one on the path, and Bronson was glad for it because he had no desire to introduce her to the townspeople yet. His only desire was to get her home and – then what?
He swallowed hard, wondering if he should consummate their marriage immediately or wait until she knew him better. The faded yellow door of his cottage came into sight and his heart beat faster. Anticipation swelled within him. She was his bride and they were about to be alone for the first time as husband and wife. Certainly he was within his rights to take her, to fully claim her as his bride. He gently tugged on her hand and led her onto the stone walkway, still unsure of what would happen once they were inside.
“This is your home?” Her tone betrayed no hint of disdain as he’d expected after their conversation on the hill. If anything she sounded in awe.
“Yes. I helped my father build it the summer after we escaped the city.”
She paused on the walkway and snatched her hand from his. He tensed and spun around, prepared to chase her down if need be, but Anna simply stood before him in front of the blooming purple flowers his mother had planted years ago that kept returning every season. She bent to smell one of the flowers and smiled, then rose up and took a hesitant step toward him.
“I like it here. It’s very peaceful. The view is breathtaking,” she said, indicating the town below and the sea beyond it. Sunlight sparkled on the waves, and the horizon was turning from pink to blue. A few clouds dotted the sky, and seagulls swept to and fro. Children ran through the streets of the town, some of them headed for the small dock where the fisherman worked to ready the boats.
Bronson turned from the scenic view and focused on Anna. “You haven’t seen the inside yet,” he said, half-joking as he opened the cottage door and gestured for her to enter.
She picked up her skirts and swept past him, and he held his breath, waiting for her reaction. He’d tidied the place up as best he could before departing for his meeting with King Mendel, but it had seen better days, especially when his parents had been alive. The curtains on all the windows were closed, but enough light shone through the thin fabric to provide an adequate view of the cottage. A sparse kitchen with a small table and three chairs. A bedroom with one bed, a tall water basin, a large bathtub, and a few odd pieces of furniture. The smallest room, which had been Bronson’s bedroom while his parents were living, now contained only two bookcases and a trunk.
Anna stood with her back to him, her head turning as she inspected the tiny three room cottage. He knew that her bedroom in the castle had been larger than his entire home. He removed his traveling sack, which also contained the small bag Anna had had with her at the inn, and placed it next to the door, keeping his eyes on her and waiting for her to speak.
“Bronson?”
“Yes?”
“There’s only one bed.”
He bit back a groan, took a deep breath, and stepped behind her to place his hands on her shoulders. Though she tensed initially, a shudder then ran through her, and her breathing increased. The temperature in the cottage seemed to rise, and he didn’t back down from the tense moment, instead deciding to work it to his advantage. He vaguely worried that if they didn’t consummate their marriage that she might somehow get it voided if she ran off and possibly boarded a ship on the other side of the island. Pain shot through his jaw as he clenched his teeth. He couldn’t let that happen. He was her husband by marriage, and he planned to become her husband in truth very soon.
“Anna,” he said, loving the way her name felt on his lips. “Anna, my wife, of course there’s only one bed. It’s a bed we will soon share.”
“But you married me to save me from the fate the nobles are suffering during the revolution. I thought”—she gulped—“I wasn’t sure if you planned to…” Her words trailed off and she shivered as he lifted her hair from her neck and brushed it to the side, exposing her creamy white flesh.
Trailing kisses from the tip of her ear and downward along the slope of her neck, he pressed his body against hers, delighting in the small gasps issuing from her throat. He recalled their spat earlier before they entered the church, when he’d threatened to spank her if she made a fool of him during the ceremony. The retort she’d supplied had driven him over the edge, and he had promised her a sore bottom on her wedding night. Well, it wasn’t night yet, but perhaps it was time to get it over with. He wanted her now, wanted her squirming and naked beneath him on the bed while he parted her thighs and discovered the sweetness within.
“Where did you sleep when your parents were alive?” Anna suddenly asked. “Surely I can sleep there.”
He grinned at her attempt to stall the inevitable, and as he leaned to speak into her ear, his hard cock pressed into her bottom. “I used to have a cot in that room right there,” he said, pointing to the room with the bookcases.
“Well, where’s the cot now?” she persisted, trying to break out of his grasp. He wrapped his arms around her center and trailed more kisses along her neck before returning to nibble on her delicate earlobe. A soft moan was his reward.
“I gave it to a neighbor. Now stop stalling, little dove. You have nothing to be afraid of. Well, except for a sore little bottom.”
“About that,” she began. “I’m sorry I insulted you earlier.”
“I appreciate your apology, Anna, however I think it will help you settle into your new life here if you have a firm understanding of my expectations. I will not allow you to have such a loose tongue. I know you are used to getting your way most of the time, but I will expect you to mind me and be an obedient wife. No more wild temper tantrums.”
She snorted and tried to twist out of his hold, but her attempt only turned her around in his arms, and a spark of indignation lit in her eyes as their gazes collided. “You make it sound as if I need taming.”
He smiled and lowered his voice. “Do you need taming?”