Once Upon A Dyke Part 13

I was speechless. I surrendered to sensation as her tongue dove into me, as it caressed me and made me shudder. I was so turned on, after doing her, after all I'd been through, and she was good, realizing I needed release.

"Snow . . . Like that, yes, oh G.o.d, like that!" My insides were churning as my legs clenched around her, securing her to me as I bucked against her lithe form ... I saw stars behind my eyes and might've blacked out for a moment...

We fell asleep on the forest floor, our naked bodies entwined. I wasn't sure if I could move. So I murmured, "I love you."

Snow burrowed further into my arms. "I love you, too."

Chapter 10.

"Cody? Cody! Wake up!"

I shook my head, struggling to sit up while trying to tell Sheila to stop slapping me. Finally, I trapped her hand in one of mine.

"We were so worried about you!" Sheila said, running her hand through my hair. I think she was looking for an injury. "You ran out, but we found your car, and you weren't in it. You must've knocked yourself out on a branch or hit your head on a rock or something."

I stared at her. A jumble of memories pounded through my head, and I tried to understand the why's. I knew I had left here, and gone elsewhere, but I couldn't tell anyone about that, or prove it.

"I'm fine. Really," I said, sitting up shakily. I was leaning heavily on Sheila, with Sal looking at us disapprovingly.

Someone moved on my other side and I found myself staring at a woman with hair as black as coal, skin as white as snow, and lips as red as pa.s.sion. Her fine black eyes snapped with intelligence and wit. I was a goner, all over again.

"Cody? Cody?" Sheila said, trying to get my attention again.

"I'm Selina White," Snow said to me, kneeling at my side.

"Selina's part of the crew on the film-the camerawoman," Sheila explained.

I took Selina's hand and just stared.

"Do we know each other?" she asked, with a mixture of humor and disbelief.

"Yes," I said firmly.

Her eyes sparkled and I could smell clover and the scent of her hair.

We seemed to have forgotten about everyone else.

I went to her.

I didn't have a choice.

After all.

Charlotte of Hessen Barbara Johnson

Chapter 1.

Long, long ago in a land far, far away there lived a young woman as beautiful as she was intelligent, and as kind as she was spirited. Left to run wild after her mother's untimely death, Charlotte von Hessen was as comfortable in her father's forests as she was in his sitting room. Life does not always stay the same, however, a lesson good for all to heed, and one that Charlotte was about to learn.

On a misty morning that seemed like any other, Charlotte crept into the forest just as the household was beginning to stir. Baron Heinrich von Hessen, her father, would be shocked to know that his only daughter, clad in the garb of a common peasant, ventured into the forest before dawn each day to search for animals caught in hunters' traps and snares. Like her mother before her, she could not bear to see creatures in pain.

On this day, those not too badly injured she set free, but a red fox had suffered a crushed foot. She scooped him into an old flour sack and carried him off to her secret place.

"You poor, little thing," she crooned to calm the frightened animal while she bound up its injured paw. "You'll be safe here now."

In this hidden part of the forest, she'd found the ruins of an ancient church. She guessed it was centuries old, but its crumbling facade provided just enough shelter for her collection of wooden cages. She'd found the place when she was nine, and in the five years since, no one had ever disturbed her. Deep in the forest as it was, surrounded by brambles and thorns and inhabited by all manner of creatures, including snakes, she figured most people found it intimidating and scary to venture so far into the woods. Most of her father's tenants were a simple people, given to superst.i.tion and fear.

She placed the fox gently in a wooden cage and covered it with a dark cloth. She'd powdered some valerian root and given it to him in water. The mild sedative would calm the creature and keep him quiet through the day.

"And how are you doing this fine morning?" she asked as she uncovered a red-tailed hawk. "Your broken wing seems to be healing nicely." The bird of prey stayed calm as she carefully stretched out the wing and ran her fingers along the delicate bones. "I think in a day or two I'll be able to set you free." She fed him some mice she'd caught in the barn.

One by one, she checked each animal; she had ten to care for this week. All were doing well, until she got to the last cage. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said as she lifted out the lifeless body of a spotted fawn. Caught in a leg-hold trap, its injuries had been too severe. She stroked the soft fur as tears welled up in her eyes. "When Papa comes home, I will ask that he ban the use of these traps on his lands."

Finished with taking care of the animals, Charlotte settled on a boulder to eat a breakfast of bread slathered with b.u.t.ter and quince jelly. She took a sip of honeyed tea, since grown cold. She sighed, deeply content.

She looked around her hideaway. The weathered grey stones of the church were covered with moss and lichen. On all sides of the overgrown clearing, pine trees grew dense and tall. Little light filtered through their branches, but in the afternoons the boulder upon which she sat would be bathed in suns.h.i.+ne. She inhaled deeply. There was nothing she liked better than the scent of a pine forest and rich, verdant soil. She rested back against the boulder, using her rucksack as a pillow. She could hear the distant gurgle of a stream. It made her thirsty, but she didn't want to sit up to take a drink. She closed her eyes. The animals around her, both caged and free, skittered through pine needles and underbrush. A languidness overcame her as the forest sounds faded.

"Well, what have we here?"

Charlotte woke with a start. In the shadowy sunlight, a form stood before her, hands on hips. She felt the pounding of her heart, and struggled to control her panic. She sat up and squinted at the intruder. She unconsciously grabbed her knife. "Move to where I can see you," she demanded, hoping she didn't sound as scared as she felt.

The figure moved out of the shadows, allowing the pale sunlight to illuminate his face. Dressed in the leather pants and tunic of a huntsman, he appeared rather young, possibly only two or three years older than Charlotte. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." The voice was surprisingly feminine.

Charlotte leapt from her rock and stood at her tallest. Still clutching her knife, she appraised the young man before her. His garb and demeanor both identified him as male, yet his voice and face were those of a woman, and an educated one at that. Confused, she could only say, "You are trespa.s.sing."

The youth laughed. "Ah, this old church belongs to you? And who might you be?"

Haughty now, Charlotte raised her chin. "I am Charlotte, daughter of the Baron Heinrich von Hessen. This forest is on his land. And you are?"

With a low bow, he replied, "I am Willi, son of my father and my mother."

Despite herself, Charlotte couldn't help but smile at his clever reply. An identification, and yet not. And she noted that he did not remove his hat. Very discourteous indeed. "From whence do you come?"

He indicated the boulder. "Do you mind if I sit down? I've had a long walk this morning." He sat without waiting for an answer. "Where I come from does not matter. Suffice it to say it is a great distance."

Charlotte sat next to him. "In all the years I have come here, no one has ever discovered my secret place."

"You are a rescuer of animals I see."

"I do not like the slow death from trapping. I prefer a quick and fair hunt."

"I find that admirable."

Charlotte felt herself blus.h.i.+ng under his intense gaze. She was suddenly self-consciously aware of her drab brown skirt and less-than-white peasant blouse, garments that she'd talked Elke into acquiring for her. She wore leather sandals, and she noticed her feet were filthy. She tucked them under her ragged hem while she tried to smooth her tangled hair into some semblance of order.

"Is Willi really your name?"

"Of course. Why do you think I would lie?"

Was it her imagination, or did his voice get noticeably lower? It was her turn to gaze intently upon him, noticing the smooth, delicate hands and the distinctly feminine mouth. What would she find if she s.n.a.t.c.hed away his hat? He seemed uncomfortable at her perusal.

Charlotte stood up. "I do not think you a boy at all."

"Of course I am!"

"Then prove it. Remove your hat."

"I... I cannot. I have a... a disfiguration."

Charlotte waved her hand around. "I have seen horrible disfiguration in the animals I rescue. I am not some weak female given to vapors. If you have nothing to hide, you'll remove your hat."

He took a deep breath. "Very well then." With a flourish, he removed his hat to reveal a ma.s.s of unruly reddish-brown curls that fell below his ears. The color reminded Charlotte of a newborn fawn. His brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and that amazingly feminine mouth curved to reveal bright, white teeth. "You expected something different?" he asked to Charlotte's silence.

"I feel so foolish. I was sure you were a girl."

"And you are not so sure now?" His smile got wider.

"I... You are confusing me!" She turned away, feeling her cheeks redden. "I think I must get back to the house. My servants will be wondering where I am."

Willi took hold of her arm. "Please don't go. I want to see all of your animals."

His touch on her arm was like a bolt of lightning. She stared at his fingers, long and unadorned, with short, buffed nails. Despite his garb, this was no peasant hunter. As he continued to hold her, she felt the stirrings of unknown feelings in the pit of her stomach. Elke had told her that one day she would meet a boy who would cause such feelings. She had scoffed at the idea. She'd been around boys her whole life, from her father's stable boys to the sons of visiting merchants. She'd found them all sorely lacking, nothing more than uncouth boors. And now here was a boy she'd barely met, and he made her feel all giddy inside.

She turned from his grasp and approached the first cage. With shaking fingers she removed the cover. "This is a red-tailed hawk. I found him caught in a snare intended for rabbits. His wing was broken."

Willi stood close to her. She felt the heat from his body and smelled the animal scent of warm leather. She wanted to touch his smooth cheek.

"What a magnificent bird." He turned and smiled at her. "And lucky that you found him."

She uncovered the next cage. "These rabbits were orphaned. I don't know what got their mother. I hid them in my room in the beginning. They needed food round-the-clock."

"How did you keep them from being discovered by your servants or parents?"

She laughed somewhat bitterly. "My father is never home. I hardly see him when he is. He blames me for my mother's death."

"I am so sorry."

She felt a rush of shame. "No, I am sorry. I know my father loves me, as I love him. I think I remind him of my mother, and the pain is just too great."

"You look like her, then? She must have been very lovely."

His words pleased her. "We have a painting of her in our formal dining hall. I see the resemblance, but she was much more delicate. Her hair was like moonlight."

Willi touched Charlotte's hair. "And yours... Yours is like an early morning sunrise. All red and gold."

Charlotte could feel the flush spread across her face. She knew she should move away, yet could not. This young man... The words he spoke ... They were much too intimate.

As if sensing her discomfort, Willi dropped his hand. "How old were you when your mother died? Do you remember her?"

She felt the p.r.i.c.kling of tears. It had been a long time since she'd cried for her mother. "I was seven. She was killed by a coach and horses." She had never wanted to relive that day, but something about Willi made her want to explain so he would know about the pain she carried from all too unwittingly being the cause of her mother's death. "She pushed me out of the way and was struck herself."

Willi gasped. "That must have been horrible."

"That day is a blur to me still. But for her I would have been trampled too. My memories of her also have faded. It makes me sad, but I know she is with me. It was she who taught me to love all G.o.d's creatures."

She continued down the row of cages, showing off the forest animals and birds that she cared for. She was proud of her skill as a healer, and it showed in her voice. At the last cage, she faced Willi. "You will probably think I am crazy to rescue this creature," she said as she pulled aside the cloth to reveal a p.r.i.c.kly porcupine. Willi backed away. "I'm not sure what attacked him, but he was clawed pretty badly." She moved the cage slightly so the animal was in the sunlight. "You can see the scars on his face. At first I thought he'd been blinded. I know I need to let him go, but I've grown quite attached to him." She could feel the sting of tears. "It's the hardest part of what I do here."

Willi seemed to sense her pain. "Why don't we release him together?"

Charlotte couldn't answer. The tears threatened again as her throat tightened up. Why was she so reluctant to release this animal? Then she felt Willi's hand on her arm. "Come," he said.

Charlotte turned toward him. She had to look up, though he was not too much taller. The sunlight touched on his hair, making it glow like burning embers. His brown eyes were gentle and understanding. She looked away. She felt an urge to kiss him, and she shook her head to rid herself of it. What was wrong with her? She'd never wanted to kiss a boy before. It seemed so... so unhealthy.

She smiled. "All right."

She went to lift the cage. "Let me do that," Willi said.

He picked up the cage, holding it away from him as the porcupine's quills began to stand up. Charlotte motioned for him to follow her and led him to a stream a short distance away. They knelt together beside the running water. Willi carefully untied the twine holding the cage door shut. Charlotte took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. It was so childish. Willi took her hand as the porcupine hesitantly crept out of the cage and sniffed the air. It then walked away from them, pausing briefly to turn and look back before it disappeared into the underbrush.

They stood up together. Willi raised her chin so she looked into his eyes again. He smiled and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, and then brushed his lips softly against hers. She felt as if her head could explode, the rush of blood was so intense. "Do you like me, sweet Charlotte?" he murmured, his breath warm on her neck.

She backed away. "I hardly know you. I don't know you. How can I like or dislike you?"

"But you feel something between us?"

Willi cupped her face with much tenderness. She s.h.i.+vered. She'd had her monthly cycle for about a year now, but it was only recently that she'd begun to feel strange sensations in her body, sensations that Elke had a.s.sured her were normal. There were even times when she pleasured herself, but here and now the mere touch of Willi's hand on her skin was unlike anything she'd felt before.

"I... I don't understand. What is happening to me?"

"I feel it too."

They stared into each other's eyes. Charlotte felt that something more could happen, but she wasn't sure what. He moved toward her, then paused. Charlotte thought she saw uncertainty in his eyes. He moved toward her again and then kissed her full on the mouth. Dizzy with an unnamed desire, Charlotte wrapped her hands around his neck. His tongue teased her. Her hands seemed to take on a life of their own as she brought them down over his shoulders and across his chest. She gasped and pulled away. She'd felt the unmistakable swell of b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"You are a girl!"

Willi caught her. "Does that bother you?"