Bianca made her way to Galen’s tower room, her feet dragging with reluctance as she thought of the task that awaited her. She had gone in search of the elderly healer but had been unable to find him in the castle. Now she realized that she could wait no longer. Bianca hesitated at the door, stifling a nervous laugh when her gaze found the very large, very intimidating Lord Draco d’Ensoleille standing at the window, waiting patiently for her to return. He treated the blood that seeped from the deep gash in his shoulder with callous disregard, but the sight made her stomach roil with queasiness.
“Have you decided to stitch me back together, perchance? I promise not to scream out or faint dead away when the needle pricks my flesh.” The amusement in his voice angered her. He had no right to enjoy her obvious discomfort.
“I would hope a great warrior such as you would have more stamina than that, my lord. I would find it most disappointing if it proved otherwise.” Her sharp retort pulled a chuckle from him.
“I would hope that I could conduct myself with proper decorum in this situation. It would not set well for my reputation if it got out that I wept at a wound as trifle as a pin prick.” Coming away from the window, he moved to the worktable in the center of the room where he sat on a tall stool to await her pleasure.
Having no idea what was needed other than needle and thread and perhaps some hot water, Bianca opened Galen’s medicinal cupboard to view the kinds of herbs and extracts and distillations he had on hand.
There were all sorts of things that looked like they might work, but having really no idea, Bianca decided to add a few good possibilities to her hot water. A few drops from the blue bottle and then a touch of the crushed yellow flower, a splash or two and dash of other concoctions, and Bianca figured she had likely got at least one of the curatives Draco might need. And if he suddenly found himself lacking an ailment that had bothered him before, well then he had only her to thank for it.
The large knight gave an appraising look at the variety of items Bianca placed on a fresh towel at his side. “I see you have done this sort of thing before.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, no, I have not.” At his raised brow, she rushed on. “But I have watched Galen many times as he stirred up a potion or two for his patients.” Bianca’s hands trembled as she arranged and rearranged the items on the table, stalling for time. She glanced at the doorway, praying that Galen would make a sudden appearance. But finally, she had to admit that it was not to be.
“Do not worry so, Bianca. If you are unsure about how to go about it, I will instruct you. I have sewn up many cuts on the battlefield. Trust me, you will do fine.”
Bianca could do no more than nod her head even as she worried her lip with her teeth. He raised his hand and gripped her shoulder encouragingly and said through clenched teeth, “Just remember to keep the stitches small and even.” He then released her and caught the hem of his tunic and pulled it up and over his head.
All of her former doubts were forgotten as Bianca watched him remove his tunic, leaving his upper body bare. The sight of so much male flesh had her heart fluttering as she stared unabashed at the broad shoulders displayed before her. Several long scars crisscrossed the massive bronzed muscles of his shoulders, one running down the length of his arm. It was clear that he had not come away from battle unscathed. The thick sinew rippled beneath his darkened skin with his every movement. It was not until he turned to face her that she realized she had been holding her breath and she gasped for air. Her curious eyes moved over his broad chest. It was covered in a black pelt of hair that tapered to a narrow line, disappearing beneath the waistband of his breeches.
In the dim light of his chambers, she had caught only a small glimpse of his bare chest. But now in broad daylight, the sight left her yearning to run her hands over his large body, to explore the planes and angles of his hard-hewn form. It was disconcerting to find that his nakedness had such an effect on her.
“Are you ready to proceed, my lady?” A smile broke across his face and Bianca wondered what amused him. Her tongue flicked out as she licked her bottom lip. Bianca felt like a cat that had just found a bowl of cream and was getting ready to feast. She could not seem to pull her gaze from the broad expanse of skin before her. His eyes widened as she boldly stepped between his thighs and placed her hands on his shoulders to splay her fingers over his warm, smooth skin.
“You are so hard, so warm,” she murmured as she slowly moved her hands down his arms, her eyes riveted on the hard brown discs that peeked out from the mass of black hair on his chest. She had never seen anything so beautiful as this man’s body. Tentatively she traced his nipple with her fingertip.
A deep rumble started in his chest and a groan escaped his throat at the feel of her small, soft hands moving over his skin. The sound startled Bianca and she snatched her hand back as her gaze flew up to meet his. “I am so sorry, my lord. I did not mean to hurt you. Please forgive me.”
“No!” Draco caught her about the waist when she attempted to step back. He drew her soft body close and, lowering his head to her shoulder, he nuzzled her neck.
“Do not stop,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear as he took her hand and placed it back on his chest. “I want you to touch me.” Then he cupped her head and captured her parted lips with his hot, hungry mouth. The kiss he gave her turned into a passionate invasion of his tongue, thrusting in and out as he sought to show her just how much he wanted her.
With a small sound of surrender, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her soft, round breasts to his hard chest, returning his kiss eagerly, fervently. His hands moved to caress her back, and lower until he cupped and kneaded her soft, round buttocks, drawing her closer until she could feel the evidence of his desire for her.
Bianca was lost in a world of ardor and longing. Her body burned with need. She wanted to climb into him and absorb his very being.
She was unaware of the small whimpering sounds that she made as she returned kiss for kiss, caress for caress, but Draco was. Bianca was the most passionate woman he had ever encountered in his life.
And he knew that he could have her then and there. But he reluctantly told himself that he would not. She deserved better. After a moment of fighting with his conscious, Draco drew back and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose and then her forehead.
“I think that we had better stop now,” he whispered hoarsely against her soft hair. “It would be very uncomfortable for you if I took you on this table or the cold stone floor.” He smiled at her whimper of denial as he put her from him. “Make no mistake. I want you, Bianca, but I will wait.” His words came out in a hoarse plea for understanding. “For now, it would be best if you finished the task you set out to do.”
By the confused expression on her lovely face, he knew that she was still recovering from their kisses. He reached out and caressed her flush cheek with his knuckle. “I am bleeding, Bianca. You were about to take a needle and sew my flesh back together, remember?”
“Yea, my lord,” Bianca murmured as she struggled to pull her thoughts back together and ignore what had just happened between them. She picked up the needle and made an attempt to thread it. Her hands trembled slightly and it took two attempts to get the thread through the small eye of the needle. Bianca had been a master at stitchery for years and had never had such problems simply threading a needle. But then again, she had never had to apply a needle to human flesh.
How did he expect her to sew him up when her mind was otherwise distracted? Perhaps she should get a blanket and cover him up. But the thought left her mind as soon as it entered. He would think her a complete fool if she tried to do that. She would just have to concentrate on the task before her.
Convincing herself that this was no different than plying her needle on her tapestry, she placed a hand to Draco’s taut skin and gently pressed the two ragged edges of his torn flesh together. Her stomach nearly turned over and she had to fight back the bile that rose in the back of her throat. She took several deep breaths to calm her stomach. Then she took one more deep breath and stuck the point of the needle into his firm flesh for the first time. She stared down at the small metal spear as it lay buried in flesh and nearly lost the contents on her stomach. She gasped and tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She glanced up to see if he was in pain.
“It is fine, Bianca. You hurt me very little. I promised not to cry out, did I not?” he said to comfort her when he heard a small groan escape her lips and noticed her hands had stilled. “Please, continue. I am in little pain. Finish the task.”
“Yea, indeed, my lord.” Her words were so low, barely spoken aloud, but with trembling hands, she proceeded.
After the first stitch was complete and Bianca took a deep, refreshing breath, she glanced up to see how he took her prodding. Her gaze collided with his and for a breathtaking moment, neither one looked away. She could feel his pulse throbbing beneath her fingertips and soon, hers mirrored his.
Bianca was the first to look away, but still she could feel his dark eyes moving over her as if he were actually touching her. A rosy blush stole over her snowy cheeks, heating her blood as she thought of the time they spent together the night before and the embrace and kiss they shared just moments ago.
“There is no reason for concern, Bianca,” he admonished, as if he could read her very thoughts. “Nothing happened between us. We stopped before you were compromised.”
Being compromised was the last consideration on her mind. Her thoughts were on the secret pleasures they had shared the night before and what she had been willing to give only moments before and he was worried that she was upset and embarrassed by what happened. She wanted to curse him for his misguided impressions. Her blush deepened as she came to understand what he said and her cheeks turned so hot she feared that she had come down with a fever. How dare he turn what she considered a precious moment into a dirty little episode!
“Last night should have never happened. I blame myself for letting things go as far as they did. We were fortunate to have been interrupted when we were,” he murmured gruffly.
“Do not worry yourself, my lord. I am a grown woman and I accept full responsibility for my actions both of last night and for what happened just moments ago. I apologize if my forwardness has offended you. I seem to have this portentous ability to get myself into the most alarming situations. The fault was mine. I should never have come to your room.” She kept the tremor from her voice, but just barely. It had never occurred to her that he had not wanted her last night. That he had just been swept away by the baser male urges.
Most men made it abundantly obvious that they desired her the moment they set eyes upon her. She could have been married a dozen times over by now if she had but said the words. But now when she found the one man she truly loved and wanted to spend the rest of her life with, it was obvious that his sentiments were not the same as hers. It was apparent that she had grossly misinterpreted his intentions regarding her.
“It is in the past. Let us just leave it there,” he murmured softly, his voice without expression.
It would have hurt no less had he taken a sharp dagger and plunged it into her heart. With a jerky nod, Bianca agreed, although every instinct told her to scream in denial. Tears filled her eyes and she had to blink rapidly to clear them so that she could see what she did.
She did not want to leave what they had shared in the past, locked away like some dirty secret. She loved this man, but he was too mule-headed to see the truth. But for the life of her, she had no notion as to what she should do to get through to him. The fear of his ultimate rejection kept her from throwing herself in his arms and declaring her true feelings. He might laugh, and her pride would be crushed.
“Ouch! Bianca, having my cheek sliced open in battle hurt less. Take care.”
His sharp exclamation startled Bianca from her troubled thoughts. She gulped back the need to break down and weep. Anger came to her rescue and she took a shuddering breath and raised her head to glare at him.
“Then why do you not stitch yourself up!” she hissed at him, dropping the needle, leaving it to hang at the end of the thread, which was still connected to his shoulder. She hastily back away and then turned and fled toward the door.
“So, the fairest of them all has a temper, does she?” The dry rejoinder hit her in the back, stopping her neatly in her tracks.
Fire blazed in her heart as Bianca turned to face him. She was more than ready to do battle with the great dragon. But as soon as she saw the mocking gleam in his eyes, she realized that he teased her. He was being gallant enough to give her an out for her disappointment of his rejection. Why did he have to be so sensitive to her needs even when he refused to acknowledge his own?
Perhaps it was up to her to bring him around. He was very much attracted to her, how much more would it take to make him understand that he could not live without her? She could be just as stubborn or more so than he was, could she not? After all, she was a woman. Women were known for being clever and devious when it came to getting what they wanted. She had had the opportunity to learn from the best when it came to getting her man. Heloise de Neige.
“I apologize for hurting you, my lord. But I did warn you before I started that I had never done this sort of thing before. Galen has always taken on such tasks.” She gave him a slight smile as she made her way across the room to stand before him once again.
“A bit of advice, Bianca. You had better learn to do such tasks if you ever consider marrying a knight. Learning to place a few good stitches will come in handy from time to time.”
Her heartbeat did a little flip when he mentioned marriage to a knight, but then she realized that he was merely giving her advice, as was the duty of a matchmaker.
“I suppose you are right, my lord. One never knows when one might be called upon to sew a bit of flesh back together. This is turning out to be an invaluable experience. Thank you for being my first, my lord.”
She didn’t know if he understood her sarcasm, but if so, he chose to ignore it, adding to her vexation.
“Finish the task, Bianca. My shoulder begins to throb uncomfortably.” He picked up the dangling needle and held it out to her. “Try to be a little more tender this time.”
“Perhaps if you would choose your words a little more carefully, my lord, I might be able to concentrate better.” Her scurrilous tone drew a derisive snort from the large man.
Bianca diligently resumed the task of sewing the gash in Lord Draco’s shoulder, but she was far from being pleased about her present situation. As preoccupied as she was, when she reached for a cloth to wipe seeping blood from his shoulder, Bianca’s thigh came in contact with the obvious bulge that threatened to split the seam of Draco’s breeches causing him to inhale sharply. She stilled instantly not daring to even look up to see if he was annoyed with her.
“Bianca.” Her name was spoken in a mere whisper.
She looked up and found his eyes burning with black fire. His desire for her was there for her to see and she knew he wanted her. It gave her an immense feeling of power. Her earlier fears faded as she watched his desire in his eyes grow as his gaze dropped to her breasts. He raised one hand to reach for her and then in the next moment he blinked and his hand dropped back to his lap.
Her gaze dropped to his throat as he swallowed with difficulty. “Bianca.” There was a slight tremor to his deep voice as he spoke her name once again, breaking the silent tension that filled the room. He bent his head toward her.
“Yea, my lord.”
“I have most likely near bled to death this day, perhaps you should finish.” His words were barely discernible, but his mouth was so close to her ear it was impossible not to understand him. His lips were a breath away from her cheek and she would have only to turn her head and her lips would meet his. But she only nodded and washed the fresh blood away with her herbal infusion before she took up the needle once again and proceeded to make small, meticulous stitches until she had finished the task.
Her skin felt too tight for her body and her heart beat so loudly she was surprised that Draco did not comment on it. To distract her thoughts, she gently traced the line of stitches with her fingers as she smeared on the ointments she had found in Galen’s cupboard.
“I am sorry I was not gentler in sewing up your wound.” She found clean linen and bound the wound and then tied the ends gently before placing one light kiss on the bandage. “Peace, my lord.”
“Worry not, Bianca. Your very touch has been a salve to my tattered soul.”
But she had already fled from the room.
* * * * *
“I find myself too embarrassed to face him again after making such a fool of myself,” Bianca bemoaned to her reflection as she vigorously brushed her hair. Every stroke came near to tearing out a great chunk of hair from her head. If she were not more careful, she would soon be bald.
“However, there is no getting around it. I have to see him again. The great question in this matter is whether I will be able to make him understand how much I want him. I would give anything to make him mine.” The brush stilled in midair as she thought about all the implications that her words aroused.
“Anything?” The solemnity of the woman peering back at her from the mirror was enough to convince her to risk all or she would come to regret that she had not. If, in the end, he did indeed leave, his heart untouched by either word or deed of hers to live out his life in lonely solitude, she could honestly say that she had done her best to tempt him to stay with her.
Placing the brush resolutely on the dressing table, Bianca stood and struck a pose, giving her best come hither, I am yours for the taking look and declared, “Well, mirror, I am said to be the fairest in the land. All men find me beautiful and, no matter what Lord Draco professed, he is no more immune to my charms than the rest. It was time I took action.”
The door of her bedchamber opened and she quickly turned from her mirror to see who it was. But not in a thousand years would she have guessed who had come to visit her.
Heloise, Duchess de Neige, stood rigidly in the opened doorway, as if she were afraid to step any closer. Her hands clenched tightly together and her long fingernails dug into her tender flesh, she looked terribly upset. Bianca wondered what had gone so wrong today that it had ruffled her stepmother’s feathers in such a drastic way.
“Can I do something for you?”
Pasting a false smile on her painted face, her pale blue eyes as cold as ice, Heloise moved a few steps into the chamber. “Yes, stepdaughter, there is something that I would dearly love for you to do. But…” She shrugged her shoulders indifferently, “that is not what I have come here to discuss.”
Bianca was not in the mood to try to follow her stepmother’s enigmatic words. The woman wanted something and she was not one to dither around about asking. She was not a shy person by any means.
“I had to see with my own eyes, that you were unharmed in your latest escapade.”
“In the first place it was not an escapade, stepmother. I was kidnapped and nearly murdered. Lord Draco came close to being killed when he rescued me from those villains. Do not put less importance on it than it really is. And as you can very well see, I am fine. Thank you for your concern. You can leave my chambers now.”
“Please, Bianca. Do not be so catty. I heard about this disturbing business earlier today but I was unable to attend you until now. I wanted to verify to myself that you were not harmed or perhaps even killed.”
Never would Bianca have figured Heloise to be so concerned for her welfare. Perhaps she had greatly misjudged her stepmother. Perhaps she was not the cold-hearted witch that she appeared to be.
“I appreciate your kindness, Duchess. But as you can see I am uninjured.”
Bianca twirled about to show her stepmother that she had not even a scratch to show for the morning’s misadventure. “I cannot say as much of Draco. He was in need of several stitches in a ghastly cut he received for his efforts in my rescue. And Jabulani has yet to be found after the villains attacked us on the road. I fear for his life.”
“Draco? Should you be so informal with a lowly baron, my dear? He is a nobleman’s by-blow after all. He has made it plain that he is not here to court you. No matter what you think.”
Bianca’s cheeks paled at her stepmother’s words.
“It is just as well. Take my advice. Setting your sights on such a base-born knight can only bring you heartache. But then again, you are not from such high-class parentage either. Your father made the mistake of marrying beneath him and thus never was able to advance himself in the eyes of society. He was most fortunate to have met and married me. You should take a lesson from his mistakes. Look to make a grand catch.”
Her parting shot stunned Bianca so much so that she stood frozen in place, staring dumbly at the door for some time after Heloise left.
Her stepmother’s words went around and around in her head and a niggling doubt began to grow. Would Draco turn his back on her if he learned the truth about her mother? Most of her suitors would care little of her ancestry. Most were captured by her beauty and held by the knowledge that she was a great heiress. She had never worried about the shadow that colored her noble line. She tried to assure herself that Draco would not be so shallow as to turn from her if he found out that her mother had been a gypsy. He was not like that. He wouldn’t care about her past. Would he?
* * * * *
Heloise’s attention remained centered on the one item of Bianca’s story. She fought the fury that threatened to swamp her with black hatred. If not for the Black Dragon, her scheme would have removed this obstacle to her future plans for Neige. She had barely been able to hold back her angry words.
She slammed into her bedchamber and stalked to her own mirror. She stood, gazing at her countenance and hating what she saw. Her age was catching up with her and her looks faded with every passing day. Her anger spewed forth as she took in the fat, dowdy, middle-aged matron who gazed back at her.
“What a simple-minded little twit, she is. Imagine, talking to mirrors as if they would answer her. No wonder she thinks so highly of herself. Vanity is a sin and one of these days she will suffer for her transgression. Fairest of them all? Hah! In my youth, I would have outshone her as a diamond outshines a stone.” She spun around slowly; turning her head to watch her silk and lace gown swirl about her now plump figure. In her mind’s eye, she did not see a middle-aged matron, but a young maiden as she was twenty years earlier. A beauty of the first water, proud and coquettish, flirting with all the young men from behind her fan. Golden hair piled high, held in place by jeweled combs. Smooth white skin and rose-tinted cheeks, a long, slender neck and creamy white shoulders that set off a richly decorated satin gown. Yea, she was the crème de la crème of society, and every young nobleman set out to seduce her. They wanted her in their beds, but not as their wife. Alas, she was not a great heiress. She had finally had to settle for a minor nobleman and they had moved to his country manor to rusticate away from court and polite society. It had taken years for her to make her way back to the social swirl that she craved and then she had been fortunate to find the newly widowed Duke de Neige who suffered deep sorrow for his late wife. It had been a simple thing to give him her sympathy and then to move into his bed. He had asked her to marry him within months of their first meeting, he had been so lonely.
Yea, fortune had finally chosen to favor her with what she had wanted most, a rich, titled husband. The means to get back into polite society. She was still a magnificent-looking woman and she was not about to let that little chit steal one ounce of her glory.