Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,53

that followed. However, Gavina had been unable to take her eyes off him. Unfortunately, the bedding that had ended the day destroyed her hopes for a happy marriage. In contrast, she’d dreaded lying with Draco. She’d expected the experience to be humiliating at best and traumatizing at worst.

Instead, this man had shown her what true passion was.

Eyes flickering open, Gavina stretched once more and rolled onto her side. She’d slept a while, for her senses still felt heavy as she awoke. It wasn’t dawn yet though, for there was no noise outside the walls and no tell-tale light filtering through the gaps in the shutters. The last embers of fire in the hearth a few yards away still glowed, casting a faint light over the bed.

Her gaze rested upon Draco then. He’d rolled over, with his back to her. They had slept apart.

Disappointment flickered to life within Gavina. He was sleeping at the farthest edge of the bed as if to deliberately avoid touching her. She imagined that most lovers curled up together after coupling. Obviously, David never had. Whenever he’d visited the bedchamber, he’d done the deed swiftly and coldly before rising, dressing, and leaving the room as quickly as he entered.

But after the passion she and Draco had shared, Gavina was surprised, and a little hurt, that he hadn’t reached for her all night.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Her gaze traveled from his broad shoulders, down the columns of muscle either side of his spine, to his tight buttocks.

Her breathing quickened.

He really was a beautiful man—and despite that he had lived so long, his body wasn’t a patchwork of scars either. There were one or two blemishes, silvered with age, but Gavina guessed these were old wounds from before his cursing. His body was that of the man he’d been on that fateful day. A moment forever frozen in time.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand and trailed her fingertips gently down his spine.

With a rumble deep in his chest, Draco stretched and slowly awoke.

A smile curved Gavina’s lips. A dragon indeed.

Draco rolled over onto his back and scrubbed at his eyes with his fists. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep.

“It’s still early,” she murmured. Her fingertips itched to reach for him again. She wanted to explore the carven muscles of his chest and belly. She wanted to take his shaft in her hands and explore that too. Yet she suddenly felt oddly shy. She wasn’t used to taking the initiative with men.

“I should get up,” Draco murmured. “I’ll be wanted on the walls.”

Disappointment arrowed through Gavina. Selfishly, she’d hoped he’d stay in bed with her just a little longer.

She craved his touch. But the moments drew out, and she didn’t voice her desire.

Draco rolled off the bed and padded naked through to the solar to retrieve his clothing. Lying upon the bed, Gavina heard him moving around, heard the jingle of his belt buckling as he dressed.

Presently, Draco appeared in the doorway. For a moment, he leaned against the door frame, just watching her. His expression was veiled.

Meeting his eye, Gavina screwed up the courage to speak. “Surely, we must have broken the curse by now?”

His mouth twisted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

The coldness in his voice made Gavina tense. She reached for a sheet and drew it around her, shrouding her nakedness. She suddenly felt used. His words were a sharp reminder that he’d only lain with her because he was desperate to break the curse.

Lust had addled her brains. She’d nearly forgotten.

“I have to go now,” he said when the silence between them lengthened. “I’d advise you to stay within the keep today, Gavina. Don’t come up to the walls.”

She stared back at him, treacherous tears stinging the back of her eyes, her throat too tight to speak. Silently, she nodded.

A heartbeat later, Draco turned and left.

XXII

AN UNLIKELY ALLY

“THE DEVIL CURSE this blasted land … how difficult can one castle be to take?” Edward of England’s rage was blistering, sweeping through the surrounding crowd of soldiers. “Are its walls unbreakable? Are its gates made of granite?”

Many of Edward’s men looked down at their feet in the face of his wrath, while Hugh De Burgh, his second-in-command stood stoically before him. Nonetheless, the big man’s face was pale and tense as he weathered his king’s anger. “Dunnottar’s never been an easy fortress to take, sire,” he ventured finally. “But we’ll get there in the end.”

“I don’t have the time

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