Forbidden Pleasures Page 6

  The stone was warm beneath Alyson’s feet. In each of the four corners, a small perpetual flame flickered on each of the stone shrines built for the goddess Minerva and though built by Romans, the Celtic people regarded the place as sacred, careful not to spurn the gods of the Underworld. A thick steam hovered over the bubbling, dark green waters and it took a moment for her to detect a movement at the far end of the pool. Alyson ducked behind a pillar, hiding herself from view. Her heart racing, she peeked around the column just in time to see the chiseled torso of a man rise up from the water and dive back into the water. She caught only a glimpse of his long dark hair slicked away from his face and sighed with relief. She knew the contours of his body, his strength, and the scars on his flesh.

  Alyson watched as he glided with lightning speed through the water. She remembered the hunger in his eyes when he looked at her, the way he touched her as though she was an exquisite gift from the gods. With a quick glance to be sure they were alone, she stepped from her hiding place, where she saw better his form beneath the waters, his broad shoulders rolling each time his arms pulled him forward, slicing through the water. Her mind had been on little else these days, thinking of his body joined to hers, his gentleness and desire to please her. She let her cloak slide to the stone floor, greeting the man as he emerged from the steps leading out of the pool. In the murky shadows his silhouette was breathtaking, water dripped from his body and heat pooled between Alyson’s thighs at the thought of his hands on her.

  “I am glad you came. I have been waiting for you.”

  He stepped toward her, and her gaze followed the light traveling upward from his feet to his thighs. Her knees grew weak, unable to get past the prize between his legs. The ethereal steam seemed to thicken, lulling her senses, her mind drifting into a sensual haze.

  “I can see you appreciate this form. I want to please you.”

  Alyson registered the voice, fixated on the man’s swagger, the shape of his muscular thighs. Ghostly hands touched the hem of her gown. Deft fingers caressed her calves, her thighs, shifting the gown over her hips. The heavy scent of perfumed oil and sulfur clogged the air, making it difficult to breathe. Held captive by a carnal lust, her body became aroused by his mesmerizing touch. His dark eyes stared into hers, a small gasp escaping her mouth as his fingers parted her womanly folds and stroked her.

  “You like that, my pet. I will show you much pleasure. I will take you places you have only dreamt of in your passion.” In her dreamlike state, he lifted her face to his and she saw Torin just before his mouth came down hard on hers. He pressed her back against the cool stone of the column, his fingers coaxing, sinking deeper into her moist heat. His tongue mated with hers, persistent, seeking, demanding. Too lost in her passion, Alyson could not hold on to the flashes of caution that this roughness was not like Torin. He had control of her, body and soul, and she was powerless to resist. Her fingers dug in to the sinewy flesh of his firm shoulders, his muscles bunching, flexing, as he pressed his body against her. “I feared you did not wish to see me again,” she managed to whisper through her parched throat. Alyson sighed, shutting her eyes as his mouth closed over one breast, his hand kneading the other.

  “I want you always like this,” he stated, sliding his hands over her hips, cupping her from behind as he nibbled between her thighs.

  The roughness of his beard scraped her sensitive flesh, need clawed at her, making her dizzy. “Milord,” she pleaded, grasping the soft hairs on his head. Alyson opened her eyes and blinked, seeing Tulia walking toward them. Perched on the edge of release, Alyson opened her mouth to speak, but the ministrations of her lover were far too insistent, far too intoxicating to stop.

  “Give in to him, little rabbit. Do not hold back the passion you deny yourself. Think of an eternity of such bliss.”

  Alyson shook her head, her gaze locked with Tulia. Something was wrong. She felt sick, her bones had turned liquid, she wanted him, wanted his cock buried deep inside her. Her flesh turned cold, her teeth began to chatter, even though her body was on fire with need.

  “Give yourself to him. Release your heart, your soul to him.” Tulia’s voice grew loud. She stood watching as Torin pleasured Alyson with his tongue, her gaze wild with delight, her grin making her appear like an evil gargoyle poised, ready to pounce.

  “What manner of blackness is this? What have you done, Tulia?”

  A stern voice came from far away in Alyson’s mind.

  Tulia straightened and faced the intruder. “See how your precious lover defies your trust? Did you think she is worthy of you? Look at her, nothing but a common whore!”

  Alyson jerked her head toward the male voice. Though muted, it sounded very much like Torin’s.

  But if that was Torin, then who…?

  She looked down and the dark magic that had veiled her sight lifted, revealing the true form of the creature that pleasured her. His scale-covered hands held her flesh, his serpentine tongue flicked between her thighs. She pushed against his serpentine-like head, screaming as she fought with all her might to free herself from the beast. In her blind fury, she felt a strong arm slip around her waist and she continued to fight, her arms and legs flailing. She was being dragged away from the creature, away from Tulia. Fully in control of her senses, she looked into the face of her rescuer. “Is it really you?”

  Torin’s dark eyes held hers. “It is me, Alyson. Stay here.” He turned and lifted his sword over his head and faced the creature. It snarled, angry to have had its prize taken from it, and rose to its knees. Its dark body wavered, shimmering in the firelight until its torso and legs became one long dragon’s tail. He balanced on his coiled tail, half-man, half-serpent, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp elongated teeth.

  Alyson stared at the beast and realized then that Tulia had summoned him from the Underworld to remove any competition for Torin, offering the beast Alyson’s soul in return for his trouble.

  Tulia’s face contorted with anger. She raised her fist, shouting at the creature. “We had an agreement. I summoned you to take her away. Now do as I bid, or return to your watery prison with nothing and I will finish this task where you have failed.”

  Her insolence toward the god placed her in grave danger, though her stubborn greed prevented her from realizing that. Alyson searched for a way to save Tulia, to get her a safe distance from the beast, but before she could move, the creature turned on Tulia, his jaws snapping, his voice thundering in the still night. “You promised me a human soul,” he growled menacingly.

  Torin’s blade came down on the serpent’s tail and the beast raised its head, emitting an unearthly screech. It leveled a look at Torin and he lifted his blade again, poised to strike. Alyson drew a breath and in one fluid movement, the creature grabbed Tulia around the waist and leapt into the water, slithering deep into the pool. She’d not even had time to scream.

  Torin ran to the edge of the pool, pausing when Alyson ran to his side, grabbing his arm.

  She watched with him, seeing the ripple of rings where the two had disappeared. Feeling ill, Alyson turned into his embrace and wept for Tulia. She was trembling from head to foot. Strong fingers lifted her chin, meeting the concern in his eyes. She buried her face in his cloak.

  “It is over. There is nothing more we can do.”

  “But Tulia…what will we tell her uncle?” An array of possible punishments crowded her mind.

  “We will tell him the truth. He will listen and make up his own mind. He is a fair man and just. He will have to believe us both. I will not leave your side.”

  There was enormous sadness in the general’s eyes. There was nothing that could be done to alleviate his pain. In truth, Tulia’s selfishness and pride had been her downfall and no one could have prevented that.

  Still, Torin needed to know that this tragedy would not fall back on Alyson or her family because of him, because of what he and Alyson shared. That, too, was another matter yet to be broached. “The creature moved too fast, m
ilord. There was nothing that anyone could have done.” Torin stayed on one knee, bowed before the general out of respect. He wondered how this might affect the general’s desire to help the people of Britannia.

  “Rise, Torin.” The general’s troubled gaze met his. “You could not know what trouble my niece devised. She saw a means to her problem, and tried to master it. The sad truth is that you cannot master the dark heart of jealousy. It will destroy you, even as it took Tulia.”

  Torin glanced at Alyson, still on her knees in homage to her master. Tulia had set her sights on Torin and, seeing his interest in another woman, was willing to tamper with evil, cursing herself instead. How could Torin leave this place without Alyson? There was so much yet to learn about her and his brief moments with her, the connection they had to one another, was greater than Torin understood. She had been brought into his life for a purpose. He knew that now. “Milord, I am deeply sorry that Tulia’s feelings for me were not returned.”

  “My son, how can you feel for one, when you have feelings for another? My niece was spoiled, that much is truth. She was good in many ways, but spiteful when she did not get her preference. She has…had…been that way even as a young child.”

  Grateful for the older man’s understanding, Torin searched his heart, debating the request he was about to make. If Alyson refused him, then he would have to accept it as part of his fate. “Milord, I have an unusual request, before I take my leave to return to my camp.”

  General Ambrosius lifted a weary gaze to Torin. “What is it, Commander?”

  “I would like permission to allow this servant and her family to accompany us back to our camp, milord. This woman’s skills have proven invaluable to me. She would act as my guide as we prepare for our day on the field of battle.”

  The old man looked from Alyson to Torin, a brief smile lifting on his lips. “Rise, woman and meet the man who shall be your new master, if you so choose. I give you the choice, but you must know also that I cannot allow your family to accompany you. Your father is one of my best men overseeing the workers. If you choose to go with him, you do this on your own, though I do believe the commander will prove to be a kind and just. What say you?”

  Alyson stared at her feet, and Torin knew well that she debated being thought of as his servant. “Milord, I would not regard her as my servant. She would be—” he looked at Alyson and smiled “—my equal, at my side.”

  The quirk of the general’s eyebrow prompted Alyson to speak.

  “Milord, you have been most kind to me and my family. I have been chosen by the gods as messenger to help this man to follow the path of his destiny. I do not know yet what that entails, but I know that when it is time, my part will be revealed.”

  Torin smiled at her and together they faced General Ambrosius.

  “If this is your decision, then I give her over to your care, Commander. See to it that you treat her well. I have to see her father every day.”

  Together they bowed. “You have my word, milord,” Torin replied.

  Alyson said her goodbyes, not knowing when she would see her family again. But her heart was full as she hurried back to the villa where Torin and Dryston awaited on horseback. She tossed her meager bag of belongings to Torin, who fastened it to his saddle and then reached down to help her up behind him.

  “The journey is long, are you sure you will be comfortable back there?” he asked, twisting to look at her.

  She snaked her arms around his midsection, not knowing what the future would bring. Would he feel the same about her if she had to force him to see the truth of his past? She glanced at his comrade, Dryston, and received an ornery grin.

  “The woman looks plenty comfortable, brother.”

  “You know, you have yet to read my palm,” he said over his shoulder as they started on across the valley to the mountains beyond.

  Alyson wondered why it was that with each attempt, she’d been distracted by the very man whose destiny she guarded. “It seems, milord, that you enjoy distracting me from my appointed duty.”

  “I admit that it true. Does the lady dislike my distractions?” he asked, grinning back at her.

  She smiled, her body tingling with the thought of his distraction methods. No, she decided, she could wait for some time for the gods to decide when she should offer him a reading. “Nay, milord, your distractions please me very much. But I am no more aware now than I was when the gods will choose to reveal your path.”

  They rode in silence for a few moments and she sensed him digesting what she’d said. She’d been told by one of Ambrosius’s servants that he’d been sent to gather information of the commander, to find out more about his past. But the information was still too vague. Whether this information was directly related to Torin’s destiny remained to be seen and the gods would only reveal it at the proper time.

  Be his guide. He will need you.

  Alyson raised her cheek from Torin’s back and listened. A warm summer breeze brushed over her face as she searched the green valley stretched before them. The change of seasons would one day be upon them and then she would be called upon to be at his side. For what purpose she did not know.

  “Are you well?” Torin asked. His hand reached down and covered hers protectively, squeezing it.

  “Aye, milord. All is well. So may it be.”

  About this Story

  The time of the Dark Ages is largely very difficult to research. What few records have been found are written by one or two monks of the day and from a very narrow point of view. The rest is largely speculation based on archeological finds, assumptions, theories and of course, legends.

  This story then is a prequel to my Dark Ages Spice novel, Tortured. With many readers asking to know what happened to my heroine’s younger brother in that book, this story—Torin’s story—was thus born. But, as, in the novel, any similarities of places, names, or events are used only for fictional purposes, not as historical documentation. Writers live by the words, “What if…” when they tell a story. This story is no different in that aspect.

  Enjoy!

  Amanda

  If you liked Forbidden Pleasures, pick up where the story left off in Tortured by Amanda McIntyre, available now from Spice wherever books and ebooks are sold.

  Ensnared in the war-torn, untamed Dark Ages of North England, Sierra understands all too well what it takes to survive: the ability to numb the soul. She has learned this lesson the hard way, watching her mother die at the hands of the king’s henchmen, her brother cast out into the cold to perish, and discovering the treacherous, leering king holds a crucial secret about her past.

  But when he grants Sierra her life, she discovers the pardon is perhaps worse than death. Sierra is made executioner’s apprentice, forced to witness unspeakable suffering while encouraged to explore her own sexual power.

  Brainwashed and exhausted, Sierra’s heart slowly grows cold—until Dryston of Hereford is brought to the dungeon as traitor and spy. Using her sexual allure to extract the warrior’s secrets, Sierra finds herself torn between duty and desire. Soon, Sierra is craving the only man who can help set her battered soul free and give her a chance for revenge….

  Plus, look for these other sexy reads by Amanda McIntyre, always available in ebook format:

  Spice

  The Diary of Cozette

  Winter’s Desire (with Charlotte Featherstone and Kristi Astor)

  Tortured

  The Master & The Muses

  Spice Briefs

  Mirror, Mirror

  Private Party

  For something a little longer, visit www.spice-books.com or stop by your local bookstore for stories that will ignite your senses!

  Think you’d like to write a Spice Brief? Submissions are always welcome at spicebriefs@harlequin.ca

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5154-4

  Forbidden Pleasures

  Copyright © 2010 by Pamela Johnson

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