Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [53]
Merrik walked to the entrance of the chamber, pulled the skin aside and looked out. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully he was with Sarla. All was quiet, save for the snores from some of the men and the few moans and giggles from the men and women enjoying themselves before sleep came.
He cursed again, and once more left the chamber. Laren didn’t move, just stared at the bearskin that covered the entrance. When he came back there was a soapstone jar in his hand.
He said briefly, “The cream for your back and leg. Take off your clothes.”
She didn’t move. “Why did you kiss me?”
“For my brother’s benefit. To show him my possession of you.”
“But everyone was watching.”
He shrugged, and said matter-of-factly, “I know. It will keep Erik’s men away from you as well. Obey me now. I am tired and wish to sleep.”
She didn’t want to take off her clothes in front of him, didn’t want to repel him with her thinness. It hadn’t mattered to her before but it did now for the simple reason that now she cared what he thought. No, she didn’t want to have to obey that command. It was as if she didn’t matter, who she was and what she was—it was entirely unimportant to him. It was Taby he wanted, not her, Taby he cared about, not her. Erik was right about that. She said nothing to him, nothing at all. She tried to remember that if he hadn’t saved her from Thrasco, she would surely be dead now. But that wasn’t true. She had escaped from Thrasco on her own. She would have managed. She owed him only for saving Taby.
She didn’t know what to do.
She wanted very much for him to kiss her again, but of course he would never kiss her freely, never because he wanted to, never because of desire for her. Quite simply, there was no one for her, no one save a five-year-old child.
Suddenly the terror of the last two years, of the endless weeks that had flowed into months and beyond, that endless time of hopelessness, of rage and fury that had eaten at her deeply and more deeply still as time passed, it all welled up in her then and she felt herself crushed under the weight of it. It erupted and she couldn’t prevent it. She began to sob, deep ugly sobs that shook her whole body. She buried her face in her hands, hating the ugly sounds that showed him her weakness, but the wave upon wave of grinding pain wouldn’t cease. The helplessness, the fear, the bitterness, all were there, pulling at her, defeating her. She tried desperately to gain control, for she didn’t want him to see how pathetic she was, she didn’t want anyone to see it, but the sobs were deeper now, a part of her, and they wouldn’t stop.
Merrik stood by the bed simply staring down at her. His first thought was that Erik had terrified her. Then he knew that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t some gutless female. No, she was a survivor. Surely Erik’s lust would have no effect on her, at least not this effect. But she sounded as if her very world had ended.
He set the cream on the bed, sat down, and without a word, pulled her into his arms. He rubbed his large hands down her back, only to remember that her back must still be sore from the beating Thrasco had given her. He rubbed her scalp, just holding her with one arm loose around her back. He said things to her, words that had little meaning to him, to her, just words, but their tone was gentle and reassuring, and he supposed, vaguely, that was what was important. He realized he might be holding Taby, stroking him, telling him everything would be all right because he, Merrik, was here now and he would take care of him, he would protect him with his life.
She moved against him and then he felt her breasts.
She wasn’t a child and he felt like a fool. No, she wasn’t a child and he felt a surge of lust for her. It was unexpected and he didn’t like it. She was Taby’s sister. It was just that it had been a long time since