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| Graphic overlay (c)2015 by Kim Headlee. |
To tide you over while waiting to find out whether or not Gawain gets to keep his head after this excerpt, I invite you to download a copy of Raging Sea: Reckonings, which is free with a Kindle Unlimited subscription or Amazon Prime membership.
Chapter 7: Sc 1 | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4 | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 9: Sc 1a | Sc 1b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 9: Sc 1a | Sc 1b |
Raging Sea Chapter 9, Scene 1c
©2015 by Kim Headlee
All rights reserved.
Morghe gave an exaggerated groan. “Please, my lords and ladies. This is a wedding, not a council chamber. My wedding, for those of you who seem to have forgotten that fact.” She stood, beckoned to the servant who was holding the platter bearing the victor’s haunch, and instructed him to deliver it to Lady Caitleen. While the man walked around the long table, Morghe leaned across it to give her own goblet to the Scotti woman, which the latter took with a nod of thanks.
“Brave warrior, accept this gift from my hand as but the smallest token of my esteem for your skills.” Lady Caitleen hefted the haunch from the platter and deposited it into Gawain’s outstretched hand.
The political sword-rattling had not dampened his appetite, and he tore off a generous mouthful. The salty skin crackled, and the flesh beneath was tender and juicy and hot, just as he preferred it. He closed his eyes for a moment of pure appreciation as he chewed and swallowed.
He inhaled Caitleen’s earthy-sweet scent as she sidled closer to him, and he opened his eyes. A soft smile adorned her lips. The boar’s haunch felt heavy in his fist, and he abandoned it on the table. Caitleen’s smile widened as she pressed the goblet into his hand. His fingers touched hers for a moment before she released her hold. He felt a lower part of him stir awake in response.
“May this victor’s cup refresh ye as nothing ever could,” she said.
God, she was so very beautiful… and so very married.
Gawain murmured his thanks. He prayed that the mead was potent enough to kill his lust and drained the goblet in one pull.
She moistened her lips. Her smile shaded from radiant to sultry. She glanced at Fergus, who returned her look with a smoldering one of his own. “And may this kiss remind me husband to perform better in your rematch.”
No stranger to a woman’s mouth, Gawain had never felt such an arousing kiss in his entire life. She nibbled his lower lip. The moment his mouth widened, she slid in her tongue to twine with his. She stepped closer, pressing her body to him and shifting her hips in a tantalizing rhythm.
His engorged senses reeled. Reason fled. He enveloped her in a crushing embrace and deepened the kiss, matching her rhythm and reveling in the mounting ache that would soon find release…
A woman’s scream startled him. Rough male hands dragged him back. Chest heaving and hair swirling about her head like a flame unbound, Caitleen was glaring at him while trying to hold closed her torn bodice.
Gawain blinked. Her appearance made no sense. What in hell did I do?
“Ye attacked me, monster!” she shrieked.
Did I speak those words aloud?
He shook his head, as much to clear it as to deny her claim. The room wouldn’t quit spinning. He wanted to bend over, but the Scotti warriors gripping his arms held him fast. Nausea clawed at his stomach. The entire feast hall had erupted into a cacophony of shouts and outcries, most of which were directed against him.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
Gawain’s protest was cut short by Fergus’s fist to his jaw. Gawain stumbled back against the warriors, who tightened their grips. His vision fractured into needles of light, and the hall spun even faster. He closed his eyes and would have sagged to his knees if his captors had let him.
“Chieftain Urien, you and all your guests be witness to this heinous assault upon me innocent lady wife,” Fergus stated. “I demand his head.”
***
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