Passion And Fury

4

Amber woke up with a start. The first thing she realised was that she wasn't in her bed. This, was more...soft. Bigger.

She sat up and inspected her environment. It was a room that had fussy scalloped bed draperies of pink damask. There were lavish bed hangings that soared above her, the silky warmth of the fur-lined covers blanketing her.

This was not her bed.

Then with an alarming start, she remembered.

Oh no!

Ohhh noo!

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed. As she tried to scramble off the bed, she turned and saw him.

She stopped, momentarily taken aback by his beautiful face. His eyes, which were laced with dark lashes, were shut in pure abandon and unconsciousness. She had been right. He was handsome. More than handsome. That was why it was hard to believe that she had spent the night with him.

She recalled the last night, recalled everything, and all that had happened on her twenty-fifth birth anniversary.

The mention of that snapped her out of her day dream. She shouldn't be here! She peeked out and saw it was barely dawn. She could still sneek out and go home.

Oh goodness what had she done? All in the name of excitement?

Careful not to rouse him, she got off the bed and dressed hastily. She held her shoes in her hands and started for the exit. But on second thought, she went back to the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Thank you." she whispered to him. Yes, she had made a grave mistake, but it had been one filled with passion and love. She had no idea if she would ever feel that way again, which was why she was grateful for the experience. She brushed her hands into his hair once more, and fled.

*

Warrick was in a foul mood when he woke up to discover she was gone. The hell! How could that have happened?

Ever since he woke up, he had been taking his anger out on his valet and his servants. Not even those he hadn't seen for the five years he was away were spared from this. Even his mother and his sisters. He yelled and swore at them.

After she had fallen asleep in his arms on the roof, he had carried her carefully to his solar, careful not to attract attention because they had both been unclad. In the privacy of his solar, he had been given unrestricted view of her face. Her face had been breathtaking and beautiful as expected. He had kept on staring at her face, his desire coming on, but he was going to wait for her to wake. He was going to do right by her, then in the morrow, he was going to propose to her.

He didn't care if she was married or engaged. No woman who was happy in her marriage would give herself to him as she had. She had given all of her. Even her virgin head.

Warrick swore with contempt as he stood in the fields, his sword in his hand. He had to let his anger out. And he was not sorry his poor knights were subject to that. He fought hard and had injured the lot of them.

His valet tired to pacify him, though the short man was reluctant to do so. He knew better than to get on Warrick's bad graces on a day like this.

"Sire, might I please remind you that this is a training and not the real —"

"Shut up, Kit. " he growled, and lunched his next hit which got his poor opponent groaning in pain.