Dragon Witch Series - Dragon Witch Part 11

"What do you have in mind, dear?" the raven-haired woman asked, leaning back in her chair, a small smile twitching the corners of her pretty mouth. "More violence, I suppose. Males are such violent creatures."

"Now who would think of our little game as violent?"

The man smiled sweetly as he reached across the chessboard.

THIRTEEN.

Adrian had been abed for days and was increasingly restless. He felt as though he were being tortured, and no visitor to his room had been spared his pleas for clemency.

"Please, Tempest," his lip quivered as he begged. "I cannot spend another moment in this bed. I shall go mad if I do. Can you not see what lying here has done to me? If I must be your prisoner, send me to your dungeon. At least there I could pace the floor and get some exercise. I will die if I have to spend another day in this wretched bed...Please?"

"That quivering lip is a nice touch, Adrian." Tempest laughed as she reached to fluff his pillows. "But I see no tears to convince me."

"Real men do not shed tears," Adrian growled as he grabbed her arms and pulled her onto the bed. "If I cannot get up, I shall hold you prisoner until I am released." He raised himself to his elbow, clasped her arms over her head and draped one long leg over her thighs to keep her from escaping.

"You will hurt yourself." Tempest looked up at him, amus.e.m.e.nt sparkling in her green eyes. "Besides, you have no clothes. Remember?"

"Clothes be d.a.m.ned," he growled. "I do not need clothes.

I need to get out of this bed."

"I think you need to let me go, Adrian." Tempest tried to move, but he held her fast. "If someone were to enter this room right now, we would certainly give the wrong impression.

Miriam told me I was not to be alone with you, you know. She wants me to stay a maiden until I am wed." She moved her hips, trying to get out from under his leg.

Adrian's blue eyes began to glaze over as his body

responded to her struggles. "Tempest," he whispered as he leaned over her. "Stay here with me, forever." His lips brushed hers in a gentle kiss.

She could not breathe. Her heart beat faster as she spiraled deeper into his soft caress. His kiss grew more demanding as she felt his tongue probing against her mouth. She parted her lips.

"Tempest!" Christiana's screech was like a bucket of ice cold water.

"Go away, woman," Adrian snarled as he glared at Tempest's mother. "She is mine!"

"Animals!" Christiana screamed as she raced toward the bed, fists raised. "I will kill you both!"

Adrian threw back the covers and leaped over Tempest to stand between her and the maddened Christiana.

"Nay!" he bellowed angrily. "You will not harm her. She is my little witch, and you shall not harm her."

"Your witch?" Christiana echoed, disbelief on her enraged face. "WITCH?" she screamed. "Aye, she is a witch, and a deceitful, shameless s.l.u.t! Wh.o.r.e!"

"Nay." Adrian's voice became quiet. Golden specks of light grew in his mist-blue eyes as he spoke. "You will not use such terms to describe my Tempest again, else your life be forfeit."

"Stop...both of you!" Tempest jumped from the bed to stand between the embattled pair. "I will have no more of this!

Mother...leave."

"Tempest..." It finally occurred to Christian that the blond giant her daughter was so intent upon protecting was completely without clothing. "That man is naked! You were in bed with a naked man!"

"Nay, Mother, the naked man was in bed...I was on the bed," Tempest explained patiently. "Now, will you please leave?

Adrian has been very ill and needs care."

"Humph," Christiana grumbled. "Is that what you call care?

I think..."

"I have no interest in what you think, Mother," Tempest interrupted. "I just want you to leave. What are you doing here anyway? You have never shown an interest in sick or injured

people before."

"Your father sent me to find you," Christiana answered shortly. Tempest's wounded man did not look so ill. In fact, he looked quite formidable, towering over her daughter. Christiana feared no man. But this one...

"Tempest?" Adrian questioned, putting his big hands around her tiny waist.

"Adrian, get into bed," she commanded without looking at him. "Cover yourself."

Adrian crawled meekly into bed and pulled the soft woolen blanket up to his chin. He was impressed with how quickly Tempest had a.s.sumed control, and did not want her angry with him. Besides, his legs were somewhat shaky from his recent exertions.

"What does Father want?" asked Tempest. "He knows how busy I am here."

"William has arrived. He heard about him," Christiana answered pointing at Adrian.

"Who is William?" asked Adrian. But neither woman replied, so he decided to ignore their conversation and just admire the view. Tempest, from behind, looked just as good as she did from the front, he observed. So round. So soft.

"Tell him I shall be there as soon as I can. I need to see to my patient first."

"Change your dress and fix your hair," said Christiana.

"You must look presentable for your intended," she added, looking pointedly at Adrian.

"Intended?" asked Adrian. "Tempest, what does she mean by 'intended'?"

Tempest was spared the need to answer as Miriam opened the door.

Miriam felt the tension as soon as she entered the room.

Once again, Christiana and Tempest were at odds, and Miriam knew exactly what had caused the argument: the wounded man.

His whitened fingers clutched the blanket as if it could afford him some small protection. He looked confused, and she felt sorry for him. She too had been unwittingly drawn into these confrontations and knew how he felt.

As soon as she had heard that Christiana was headed for Adrian's sick room Miriam knew there would be trouble. She hoped to forestall any serious strife, but saw she was too late.

Christiana was flushed and agitated, and Tempest was standing protectively near the bed, hands on her hips, eyes blazing.

"M'lady...Tempest," she said calmly. "I will take over the nursing ch.o.r.es now so you can see to your guests."

Christiana did not say a word as she took Tempest's hand and pulled her to the door.

"Miriam," Tempest balked. "I..."

"Go with your mother, child." She gave Tempest a warning look. "Your father has been very concerned for you. I will see to the young man."

"Tempest. Wait," Adrian protested. "I really want to know who this William is."

"Hush now, boy. She has guests that require attention,"

said Miriam as she walked toward the bed. "Besides, I need to check your wounds."

Christiana yanked Tempest from the room, slamming the door behind them.

"Now, shall we see how you are doing?" Miriam smiled brightly at Adrian, reaching for the cover.

"I am fine," Adrian snapped as he clutched the blanket tightly to his chest. "Tempest is my healer. She takes care of me. I do not need your help."

"All right." Miriam sat on the edge of the bed. "We can wait for a while. Would you just like to talk?"

"About what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, we can talk about you."

"Nay."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Tempest," he answered quickly.

"What about Tempest?" she asked.

"Was that horrible woman truly her mother?"

"Aye. That was Lady Christiana, Tempest's mother," she answered, then smiled. "You think she is horrible?"

"She is worse than horrible," he nodded. "She is mean.

Would she really beat my Tempest?"

"I am afraid she has done so in the past," Miriam admitted sadly.

"She cannot do that to my Tempest!" Adrian was growing angry again.

"Aye, she can, Adrian," said Miriam. "She is Tempest's mother. Did your mother not punish you when you were bad?"

"I do not remember," said Adrian with a catch in his husky voice. "I cannot remember my mother. Why can I not remember my mother, Miriam?"

"I know not," she answered, "but I am sure you will regain your memories with time."

Adrian was silent for a long time, trying to remember, trying to recall something familiar. Even his name. But Adrian sounded right. Why did 'Adrian' sound so right?

"What did that woman mean by Tempest's 'intended'?"

he finally asked when the effort to remember began to make his head hurt.

"Tempest is to wed in the spring," Miriam explained gently.

"Did not she tell you?"

"Nay," he answered shortly. "Tempest is mine. She will be my bride." He sensed the truth of his statement.

If only he could remember.

"Tempest is the betrothed of Lord William Mirabelle. She cannot be your bride. The dowry has been paid and the plans are set. She does not belong to you."

"But she does! She is my intended!" Desperation was creeping into Adrian's voice. If only he could remember.

Something...anything...

"Why do you say that, son?" Miriam queried gently. "You had never met her before your injuries, had you? Who told you that she is yours?"

"She is mine!" Adrian said stubbornly. "I know we are meant to be together. Her name is written on my heart, and I will not let another claim what is mine by right of the G.o.ds!"

"By right of the G.o.ds?"

"Aye," he looked deeply into the healer's eyes. "By right of the G.o.ds. This I know to be true."

Somehow Miriam felt the correctness of his statement as

the picture of a stormy night and a glittering golden dragon played out in her mind. But this was a young man lying in the bed, not a dragon.

"What are we to do, Adrian?" she whispered. "How can we make things right?"