the other hand, she was still a thorn in his flesh and had to be handled somehow. The way he'd most like to handle her was not yet blessed, and so he did his best to avoid her for the remaining week.
It wasn't easy when he was heated by the mere sight of her, and maddened by the brush of her arm against his at dinner, or the trace of her subtle perfume in the air.
Perhaps she had no idea of the effect she was having, or the power of lust in a young, healthy male. If she had, surely she wouldn't keep teasing him.
He tried to stay out of her way, but she became diabolically good at turning up wherever he was. He grew clever at evading her touch, but she seemed to be always trying to touch him. Then she found ways to dress and move that made him not want to evade her at all.
But by prayer and will he held out.
Until he awoke one morning two days before the wedding to find her sitting cross-legged on his bed.
"Hell's flames, Jehanne. What are you doing here?"
"You've been avoiding me, Galeran." Her hair hung loose, and she wore only a light kirtle in a bewitching shade of pink.
Galeran fought the need to drag her beneath the sheets. "That means I don't want to see you. Go away."
"No."
"Then I'll leave."
As he pushed back the covers, she said, "I've thrown all your clothes out the window."
"What? " He saw his chest standing open and empty, and laughed at her.
"Do you think I'm shy, you silly girl?" He leaped out of bed and faced her naked.
Then froze.
What in the name of the Savior did he think he was doing? Now she'd shriek and they'd have the whole castle down on them.
He should have known better. She showed no alarm, but looked him over, eyes a little wide, cheeks as pink as her kirtle, but otherwise composed.
"Not bad. You're growing."
And he was stuck there, exposed to her scrutiny. He couldn't lose face by dashing back beneath the covers, but he had no clothes to put on. So he did the only thing he could and looked her over in turn. "I suppose you're growing too, but it's hard to tell when you're covered."
Her eyes widened a little more, then she began to pull up her skirt.
He lunged forward and grabbed her hand. "No!"
"No? You dared me."
"I did not."
"It sounded like a dare to me. I won't refuse a dare."
"Then, by the Cross, I dare you to jump out of the window after my clothes!"
She met his eyes. "Only if you do too. Hand in hand into eternity, Galeran .
. ."
And he'd known, terrifyingly, that she would do it.
He was still gripping her, and she turned his hand in hers, shifting it so he brushed her breast, her small, high breast, with the nipple clearly felt through the fine cloth. "You see. I am growing." Then she looked down and smiled. "And so are you."
He knew he was. For the first time, lust was hitting him hard and with immediate purpose. He'd lusted before, but never with a woman - a special woman - so close, so available, so hot beneath his hand.
He began to tremble. "We can't. . ."
"Of course we can't. But we can kiss. You owe me a kiss."
"Jehanne, no. I can't. . ." He couldn't find the words to explain the danger, the danger that he would lose control of this ravening beast.
But perhaps she understood. She sucked in a breath and slid swiftly away.
"If you can't, you can't," she said, as if nothing had happened. "I'll send your clothes up." She slipped out of the room, leaving only a trace of perfume and a raging erection to torment him.
Though she didn't tease him again, her presence was enough to stretch him to the limit. By their wedding day, he was ready to ignite like a dead tree at the first touch of flame, and the long hours of ceremony and feasting were endless torment.
When they were finally left alone in the marriage bed, however, Galeran found himself frozen - frozen a little by fear that she knew more of this than he and would laugh, but frozen mainly by the terror of unleashing the force that raged through him - a force he neither understood nor con- trolled - and hurting her.
After a while, she touched his chest. "Galeran . . . ?"