The Shattered Rose Page 0,149

I'd best witness it myself. We don't want more uncertain marriages in the family, do we, Sir William?"

Hugo and Mary looked as if they would faint with excitement, and the crowd was like a swarm of buzzing bees, but Aline could think only that the king's presence might slow things down.

The ceremony went off smoothly, however, and soon they were returning to Corser Street in a much more magnificent procession.

"Is the king coming back?" she whispered to Raoul.

"Looks like it." He gave her a rueful smile. "Many hours before we can be alone, love. Remember, self-denial is good for the soul."

"My soul's so healthy, it glows!"

"Ah, is that the light in your eyes?"

And she laughed up into his shining eyes, deciding it didn't matter if the king was here. She was married to Raoul. She could wait.

Showing sensitivity, Henry didn't stay at Hugo's house longer than it took to toast the couple, speak to the most important people, and place a large order for wine. Then he rode away, leaving family and friends to relax and celebrate. Hugo, however, was still in a daze and planning to rename the gate into his yard King's Gate.

They still couldn't, with decency, rush off to be alone, though. Aline tried to talk coherently as she sipped wine and nibbled cakes, but all she really wanted to do was eat her husband. He, however, didn't seem impatient at all. He even found an instrument and entertained. He did sing the song about almond blossoms, though, smiling into her eyes.

Most of the women were dabbing their eyes when he'd finished.

When the vesper bells sounded evening, Aline could at last hurry to the corner room that would be theirs alone tonight. Laughing women followed to help her prepare. Their jokes were as suggestive as the men's, and Aline was pink with blushes when she was ready, gowned only in her hair.

Raoul came in then, clad only in a cloak, which he discarded.

Certainly his short hair provided no cover, but then, who'd want to obscure his magnificent physique?

He smiled at her, unselfconscious even though he was already coming erect and both men and women were making scandalous jokes and appreciative comments all around them. For the second time in her life, she stared at his private parts, knowing she was turning a deeper and deeper red, but not caring a jot.

"Go away," he said to their companions, drawing her into the protection of his arms.

She was dimly aware of laughter and a closing door, then only of silence.

Silence, and Raoul, and her own growing lust.

"Nervous?" he asked.

She looked up at his darkened eyes. "Not at all. I warned you I was unnaturally stimulated by men's naked bodies."

He laughed. "I don't see anything unnatural about it, love. But it's perhaps as well that you're about to surrender to a suzerain able to satisfy your needs."

"I'm holding you to that promise." Her hands were already wandering over him hungrily.

"And I'm suddenly terrified. . . ." And perhaps it was true. She noted with delight that his hands trembled as they slid around her neck to lift her hair high, then let it drift down again around her. "You do remind me of a juicy grape."

"Plump?"

"I adore plump. And sweet. And juicy. Touch me more, love. I hunger for your touch."

She pressed closer, hot skin to hot skin, soft curves to hard muscle, exploring his chest, his flanks, his back, with her greedy hands and lips.

As his hands and lips wandered her in turn, smoothing, squeezing, exploring, and raising her desire to even higher heat.

His erection pressed hard against her, and he was surely desperate, so she moved back a little to touch it. "Isn't it time for the conquering warrior to enter the captured citadel?"

Despite the need she could sense in him, he gently moved her hand.

"Impatient to surrender, are you? Tush-tush. There is a proper procedure for these things, you know." He swung her into his arms. "For example, I need to be cautious. How can I be sure you have truly surrendered? That you don't have an ambush planned?"

"Ambush? I'm completely weaponless!"

He laughed at that, swinging her around. "Your armory is astonishing, love.

Your hair, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips, your breasts . . . Ah," he said, looking lovingly at her breasts, "indeed, those could bring a strong man to his knees." And he lowered his head to suck at each nipple in turn, making her clutch at him.

"It seems to me," she gasped, "that they