Marc watched Baron, who smiled when he reached out and touched his sister’s face with his chubby fingers. Although they’d both shared Christina’s bed at the time, there was no doubt in Marc’s mind that the boy was his. He felt it in his heart and soul but he could not claim him. Only Jarek, as Christina’s husband, could claim the children as his own. It was the way things were done in Javara, the way they had to be done but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Marc closed his eyes against the pain and emptiness that threatened to engulf him.
He knew that both Jarek and Christina were worried about him. He’d shared their bed in the early days of their marriage, claiming his one night a week, as was his right as Jarek’s brother. But in the past few years, those times had gotten farther and farther apart. It had been almost a year since he’d sought them out. They were so happy together that he always felt as if he were intruding.
Jarek and Christina had grown much closer since he’d stepped away from their relationship. Marc was happy for them, even as his loneliness increased with each passing season.
He wanted what they had.
He wanted a woman of his own. A woman he didn’t have to share. But given the laws and reality of their world, that wasn’t going to happen. Marc had resigned himself to a life alone as there was no way he could go back to sharing their bed once a week, as was custom.
Opening his eyes, he glanced around the great hall in Castle Garen. Many of their neighbors had come to celebrate the birth and naming ceremony of the new child. All four Bakra brothers were there with their wives. He watched them carefully, sensing no strife or unease amongst the couples. They all seemed happy in their lives, sharing one woman between two brothers.
In fact, all the people around him seemed happy. And he was happy too. This was a joyous occasion but, underlying it all, he felt as if something in his life was lacking.
Amidst the crowd of people, he felt utterly alone.
Shaking off the mood, he gripped the ale-filled chalice in his hand and rose. “To Jarek and Christina and their new girl child, Allina. May health and happiness be with them always.”
The crowd cheered and raised their glasses in a toast. Christina smiled at him before returning her attention to the baby. Jarek stared hard at him, as if sensing his unsettled thoughts.
Lowering his cup to the table, he turned and strode from the room, unable to stand the happy throng any longer. His long legs ate up the distance as he headed up the stone staircase that led to the family quarters. When he reached his room, he shoved open the door and strode inside, kicking it closed with his booted foot.
“What is wrong with me?” He raked his fingers though his hair as he paced back and forth. The fireplace was empty but he felt no need to strike a flint and light the waiting logs. No amount of heat could melt the icy numbness that filled him more each day.
The only time relief came was when he slept. He stopped at the window and peered out at the stars that were just beginning to wink into view as darkness claimed the land.
He’d been dreaming of a woman for the past two nights now. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist and tightened. In the dream, the woman was his. She was in danger and he was unable to protect her. To a warrior, that was unacceptable.
But there were other moments in his dreams. Hot, tender moments. He whirled away from the window and stalked to a large wooden chair which sat in front of the fireplace. Throwing himself into it, he tilted back his head and closed his eyes, trying to recapture the vision of this woman.
She was tall, with long, slender legs that seemed to go on forever. He grunted and adjusted his pants to relieve his growing erection. It didn’t help. Her hair was the color of fire and she seemed to favor keeping it confined at her nape. Marc longed to sift his fingers through her hair to see if was as soft as it appeared.
Her face was heart-shaped and her nose was slender and feminine. Her skin was flawless except for six freckles, which dotted her otherwise pale complexion—three on either side of her nose. Stubbornness showed in the slight upward tilt of her angular chin. She’d be a handful and then some.
Sighing, he clasped his hands over his stomach and willed sleep to come. Maybe she would come to him in his dreams again and fill the lonely places in his heart. His breathing deepened and his head lolled to one side…
He stood at the bottom of the bed and watched her sleep. Her hair was down but it was too dark for him to see more than the occasional glint of red. The light seeping in through the window was slight but it was enough. For now.
He sensed two others in the room and squinted to see into the darkness. The figures slid from the darkness to stand on either side of him, poised and ready to fight to protect her.
“She is mine.” His words were little more than a low growl. Every muscle in his body tensed and he forced himself to relax. He bent his knees slightly and fingered the sword at his waist. He was coiled, ready to fight for what was his.
He’d been drawn to Christina from the moment he’d laid eyes on her but this was different. It went deeper, all the way to his very soul. The woman on the bed had been made especially for him, belonged to him. Nothing would stand in the way of him claiming her.
Both men paused and watched him. He sensed they weren’t afraid to fight him but were rather trying to decide what to make of him. Finally, the one on his left gave a curt nod. “Kathryn is ours as well.” The voice was rough and Marc could hear the underlying challenge. So be it. He glanced over at the other man who inclined his head slightly.
A low moan came from the bed, pulling all their gazes to the woman who lay there.
The moonlight on her face revealed her frown. Tension seemed to fill the air around them. Her brow wrinkled and she held out her hands as if to ward them off. “No,” she gasped, batting her hands uselessly at the air.
Marc’s heart ached for her obvious pain. Unable to stop, he unsheathed his sword and put it aside, before crawling onto the bed beside her. “Hush,” he crooned as he cupped the side of her face with his hand.
Her eyelids fluttered and she blinked at him. “Who?” she gasped.
He didn’t give her time to object but gently laid his lips against hers. They were soft and warm and tasted sinfully sweet. He felt the mattress sink on either side and knew the other two men were moving in to stake their claim.
Ignoring them, he focused all his attention on the woman in the bed. Kathryn, they’d said her name was. “Open for me, Kathryn.” His tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing her to part them. Her name rolled easily from his mouth and he liked the sound of it.
Her hand clutched at his shoulder and she sighed. “Dreaming,” she muttered. Marc took advantage and slid his tongue into the moist cavern of her mouth. He slid his tongue over hers, inviting it to play with his. After a moment’s hesitation, she did just that. Marc’s pants were uncomfortably tight now, his erection pressing hard against the leather but he didn’t care. He could lie here all night long and just taste her mouth.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and he pulled free long enough to push aside his leather vest, letting it fall to the mattress behind him. “Touch me.” It was part demand, part plea and she answered it. Flattening her palms against his skin, she stroked over the hard planes of his chest. He swore under his breath when her fingers brushed his nipples. His cock was throbbing hard now and his balls ached.
“My turn.” The sound came from the other side of Kathryn. The dim light shone on the man watching them. His hair was dark, his body lean and determination was etched on every inch of his face. There was no doubt that this man wanted Kathryn.