A Dishonorable Knight(93)

Elena pretended to think hard on the subject which made the men laugh, but her response stunned them. "I'd say, English men have the more beautiful faces." Elena smothered a laugh, struggling valiantly not to smile as she said, "But what woman wants a face more beautiful than her own staring back at her over the covers? I'll take a manly Welshman any day!" A small sober part of her brain shrieked when she blatantly looked to Gareth, but she was having too much fun to pay any attention to it.

Much hooting and slamming of mugs against the table followed and the man sitting to her left pounded her encouragingly on the shoulder, nearly sending her out of her chair. This brought on more laughter, which continued over the next hour. When the mead was dispensed and nothing but crumbs remained of the feast, the men slowly and drunkenly made their way to their respective beds. Gareth disappeared outdoors and Elena wished her legs did not feel so wobbly so that she could follow him. She found walking was not as difficult as she had imagined and in fact, she felt better once she had made her way to the cool quiet of her room. A large drink of cool water further helped her regain some of her composure before she struggled out of her gown. She braided her hair and climbed into bed, forgetting to extinguish the candle once again before slipping into slumber.

***

Gareth breathed the cool, ocean-scented night air that smelled so differently from the mountain air of Eyri Keep. He had missed Elena sorely this day, finding it difficult to keep his mind on his father's words, so consumed was he with wondering where Elena was and what she must be doing. He smiled as he thought of her quip earlier about taking a Welshman but that smile faded with wonder as he thought of how she had looked straight at him. What had she meant by that look? Surely she would not have made such a bold statement had she not intended for him to derive some meaning from it. Surely it could not have been merely the mead speaking. Gareth allowed his mind to wander to their passionate night together. Never had he known such pleasure with a woman. And that pleasure had continued out of bed, he realized.

Adjusting his breeches, Gareth took another deep breath and entered the warm room. All the candles had been extinguished and he realized he must have been outside longer than he thought--everyone else seemed to have gone to bed. He forced himself to head for the stairs leading to the big room above but paused with his foot on the first step. Perhaps he should check on Elena and make sure the mead had not made her ill. As he quietly made his way down the narrow hall to her room, his conscience hollered that he was fooling himself if he thought he was just going to be able to say goodnight and leave her.

He knocked softly on her closed door and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked more loudly, hoping no one else would hear and come investigate the pounding. After an agonizing several moments, the door opened. Elena was standing in the doorway, her hair coming out of her braid, spilling over her shoulder. The candlelight behind her shone through her thin chemise, clearly outlining her ripe curves beneath.

"I just came to see if you were alright," Gareth whispered. Elena said nothing, her face hidden in shadows. He was feeling singularly embarrassed when she took a step closer to him, her breasts grazing his chest. Despite the several layers of cloth separating their skins, Gareth felt as if a hot brand had touched his chest. With aching slowness he bent his head. Elena raised hers and their lips came together in a slow, sensuous kiss unlike any of their past kisses. The spark, which was constantly present between them, steadily grew as their kiss deepened and Gareth slid his hands around her waist to clasp her tightly to him. Her hands tangled in his hair and she kept his mouth on hers when he would have ended the kiss.

Gareth groaned with disappointment when Elena pulled back and stepped away from him. Without a word, she took his hand and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him. Turning, she gazed at him steadily and Gareth caught his breath at her beauty in the soft glow of the candle. With shaking hands, he cupped her face, tracing the silkiness of her eyebrows, the smoothness of her skin, the fullness of her lips. Without warning, the words "I love you" sprang to his lips, but instead of uttering them, he pressed them onto her mouth, rubbed them into her neck, nibbled them into her earlobe. His heart pounded at the confession he had nearly made and he forced himself to focus on each inch of smooth skin before him rather than wonder at his thoughts.

In contrast to their first night together, their lovemaking that night was achingly slow and hypnotic in its tenderness. When they were sated, their limbs lay tangled together, Elena's face nestled under Gareth's chin, his arms holding her pressed tightly to his chest.