Knights Of The Ruby Order: Lock Part 23

"You've been using up all his time." Sparrow cast her old nanny a look from the corner of her eye. "When he's not on the farm, he's with you. I'm beginning to wonder which one of us he should marry."

"You didn't wonder that last night." Lock grinned.

"I'm too old for him," Shea-Ann teased. "Maybe if I was a decade or so younger, you'd have compet.i.tion from me."

"The skills she teaches will come in handy at sea," Lock said.

"I hope I like the sea." Sparrow adjusted the silk on Lock's shoulders.

"So do I." He took a step backward and shook out his sleeves. "What do you think?"

"You look like a G.o.d." Sparrow's eyes swept his tall frame draped in black and blue silk. The fabric covered his face except for his eyes that seemed even more brilliant next to the silk. Sparrow's belly tightened at the thought of what the robe hid. The leather loincloth scarcely concealed Lock's male attributes. Strips of leather had been sewn to the belt and dangled to his knees, made to flow as he moved. Sparrow had seen how little the leather left to the imagination.

"The compet.i.tion is tomorrow afternoon, so we'd better leave early," Sparrow said. "You can dress there. Monique said the baths in the Empress's harem will be at your disposal, and I can help you with the body paint."

"I wish I could see the compet.i.tion!" Shea-Ann pouted. "But I can't go. A couple of the women in the village are about to deliver any time now."

"You've already seen him dance," Sparrow said.

"Still, I'd like to be there when he wins."

"I hope he wins."

"I don't see how he can lose."

"I just want it to be over." Sparrow slid her arms around Lock's waist and rested her cheek against his silk-covered chest.

"Well, take off that costume and we'll get you packed for tomorrow." Shea-Ann reached for a leather bag.

Sparrow took the clothes from Lock as he undressed and tugged on his trousers, s.h.i.+rt, and boots.

"I'm riding to the lake for a swim. Anyone want to come?"

"I will," Sparrow said and glanced at Shea-Ann.

"You two go ahead. And don't wear him out too much Sparrow. He has to compete tomorrow."

Sparrow slid her hand into Lock's as they left the house. She smiled at him, l.u.s.t in her eyes. "I'll make sure he gets a good night's sleep."

His hand slipped down her back and pinched her b.u.t.tocks. She uttered a short yelp and, laughing, sprinted toward the stable.

They rode Sea Storm bareback to the lake where they turned him loose in the field. Lock removed all his clothes while Sparrow undressed to her s.h.i.+ft. She took a step toward the water, but he grasped her wrist and dragged her to his chest.

She tilted her face up to his. "You know, I just realized I never thanked you."

"For what?"

"For stopping me from attacking Miska two weeks ago. It was stupid of me. I just felt so furious when I saw him. I felt Thea's death all over again."

Lock's mouth brushed hers with a comforting kiss. It was pleasant and loving, but she wanted to forget about Miska. If anyone could make her forget, it was Lock. She slid her arms around his neck and traced his mouth with her tongue. His lips parted. He devoured her, sweeping her into his arms and walking to the lake.

Giggling, she s.h.i.+vered as the cool water touched her skin.

"Cold?" He nipped her ear. "This water is perfect."

"Honestly, Lock, sometimes I think you were born in the water, you love it so much."

"There's nothing like it. Soft, strong, soothing, and rough. The essence of beauty. Just like you."

Sparrow smiled. Sometimes her rugged pirate said the sweetest things.

Suddenly he disappeared beneath the surface. She searched for him in the moonlit lake, then shrieked and giggled as a hand grasped her ankle and tugged. Suddenly she was in his arms again. This time when he kissed her, he left no opportunity for words or wandering thoughts. She could only feel the sensation of his lips against hers, the rough, wet touch of his hands on her arms and back as he slipped the sleeves of her s.h.i.+ft down her shoulders and bared her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his hungry mouth.

She gasped, his tongue warm on her nipple compared to the chilly night water. She wove her fingers through his thick, wet hair and closed her eyes, leaning into the cus.h.i.+on of water.

He kissed her again, his hands molding her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his fingertips slipping over her ribs and across her hips. He stroked her inner thighs and cupped her s.e.x until she clung to him, using one hand to guide his c.o.c.k into her p.u.s.s.y.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he grasped her b.u.t.tocks, her hands and hips moving in a sensual rhythm.

"I love you," she whispered, her lips roaming over his neck, licking away droplets of cool water. She used her tongue to trace the shape of his ear. A groan of desire rumbled in his chest, and he took several steps toward the sh.o.r.e. He pushed her onto her back in the shallow water, his mouth covering hers in a fierce kiss. She grasped the back of his head, never wanting his lips to leave hers. Bracing a hand on each side of her head, he clutched the mud and smooth rocks beneath the water as his hips thrust frantically. Sparrow squeezed her eyes shut. Her nipples, hard peaks from the touch of water combined with rising pa.s.sion, sc.r.a.ped Lock's chest. Her body arched upward, meeting his, joining his rhythm, until they both burst into a shattering climax.

Sparrow lay beneath him, feeling their pounding hearts slow. Only when she'd regained her breath and opened her eyes did she realize fat drops of cold rain pelted them, mingling with the river water.

He wrinkled his nose. "It's raining."

"So that's what they call those big drops pouring from the sky."

"Mockery doesn't sound good from you." He playfully nipped her nose before he stood, grasping her hands and tugging her to her feet.

"I forgot. It's reserved only for you and Shea-Ann."

"Oh no." He waved his hand, smiling as they stepped out of the lake and reached for their clothes. "Don't try to say I'm like the witch."

"She's starting to think of you as an a.s.sistant, and you seem to be learning a lot from her. Come on, Lock, admit it. You like Shea-Ann."

He tilted his face skyward, squinting against the raindrops. "Maybe a little. But don't let her know that."

"Race you home."

He laughed. "You with those short little legs."

"You weren't complaining about my legs when they were around your waist a few minutes ago."

"I didn't say they weren't nice and strong."

"Lock!" She shoved him and bolted toward the house, glancing once over her shoulder. He followed at a slow jog, waving to her and smiling.

Brat! He's such a brat! Sparrow thought, torn between irritation and good humor. She quickened her pace, planning to lock him out when she reached the house, but seconds later she shrieked as he lifted her and half-tossed her in the air. Lock ran to the house, Sparrow snug in his arms.

"Sometimes I really hate you!" She giggled against his lips as he kissed her, placing her on her feet. She leaned against the door, her arms around his neck.

Suddenly the door opened and they both stumbled in, catching themselves before they fell on the rug.

"Would you look at the both of you!" Shea-Ann snapped. "Acting like that in front of the house! At least have the decency to go in the barn!"

"Where are you going?" Sparrow glanced at the leather bag slung over her friend's shoulder.

"I'm spending the night in the village. With a couple of those women ready to deliver at any time, I'm better off sleeping there than having to ride off in the middle of the night."

"Do you need help?" Lock asked.

"No. You've been up almost every night helping me, but tonight get a good rest so you'll win tomorrow. Good luck, yak."

"Thank you, hag."

"Sparrow," Shea-Ann hugged her, "everything will be fine."

"I know it will."

"Come on," Lock said to Shea-Ann. "I'll saddle your horse for you."

Shea-Ann's eyebrow lifted and she watched Lock walk across the gra.s.s. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the pirate's taken a liking to me."

"I think you like him a bit yourself."

Shea-Ann winked at Sparrow and said, "But don't let him know about it. See you when you get back. And don't worry. You'll be married before you know."

Sparrow drew a deep breath and released it as her friend joined Lock in the barn. Shea-Ann was right. The Empress was already attracted to Lock, and with his seductive performance, he was certain to win. When he did, he'd ask for his freedom and they could truly get on with their lives.

The s.h.i.+p lurched in violent water. Waves drenched the deck, stinging Lock's eyes as he bellowed for Sparrow.

He heard her shriek and pushed his way past sailors who did their best to keep their footing on the slippery deck. An enormous wave washed over the s.h.i.+p. Lock grasped the wooden rail, managing to keep his footing while others tumbled overboard and disappeared into the dark, churning water.

"Sparrow!" he hollered, his throat aching.

Behind a fallen mast, he saw her pinned beneath a hulking male body. Her hand grasped a loose slab of wood, and she struck it across her attacker's face. He dropped to one side, but as she crawled across the slippery deck he caught her ankle and hauled her roughly into his embrace.

Lock dove, catching the mast as the s.h.i.+p tilted, and leapt at the dark figure, pain flaring across his ribs...

"Lock!" Sparrow's hands shook him, and he leapt awake, his heart pounding so violently his chest ached.

His vision cleared. The farmhouse. There was no s.h.i.+p. Not yet. Nor would there be.

"G.o.ds," he murmured, wiping sweat from his eyes.

"Must have been a horrible nightmare. Are you all right?" She rubbed his back.

"Nightmare." More like a vision. By now he knew the difference. He lay back down, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest. He uttered a shaky laugh. "You don't get sea sick, do you, girl?"

"I don't know. I told you I've never been to sea. I suppose we'll find out when you take me."

"I changed my mind about that."

"Why?"

"It's no place for you. You'd hate it."

"But you told me I'd love it."

"I've been away from it for a time, so I've glorified it. Unless you're used to it, the rocking of the s.h.i.+p makes most people vomit. And it reeks. Stinks like salt and fish."

"Lock!" She giggled sleepily. "You love the sea."

"Did I ever tell you what happens when you run aground? Sometimes you get stuck on an island with cannibals."

"Cannibals?"

"Happened to me once. They d.a.m.n near skewered my b.a.l.l.s."

"Not much of a meal."

"Hey!" He lifted his head, staring at her.

"Just teasing, but at least it got you back to reality." She giggled and kissed him. "Go back to sleep, Lock. It was just a bad dream."

He hoped she was right, but his stomach tightened. He already knew his dreams were cursed.

Chapter Seventeen.

Lock broke the surface of the warm pool and hoisted himself to the edge, wiping rivulets of water from his eyes. He glanced around the bathing chamber in the lower levels of the palace of Begonia. Slaves washed in the snake-shaped pool filled by a natural hot spring. Others slept on the smooth rock floor scattered with soft rope carpets. Most prepared for the contest, each hoping to win his freedom. Many of the slaves belonged to the Empress, but a few-like Lock-had been given permission from other mistresses to enter. Sparrow was the only mistress-and the only female-in the chamber. Lock glanced over his shoulder to where she stood by a stone table preparing body paint and smoothing creases from his costume.

He approached, and she looked at him, her face tense.

He smiled as he stepped into the tight loincloth sewn with long strips of leather that hung to his knees and exposed almost every inch of him when he moved. "By the look on your face, you'd think you were the one competing."

"Aren't you nervous at all?"

"What for?"