Sea of Fire by Carol Caldwell Page A

She had lied to him and the sooner he found out why, and where Adam was, the better.
    He reseated himself and rested his head against the back of the armchair. His gaze returned to Elizabeth. Why couldn’t she have a wart on her nose or be minus a few teeth? And, her damned reddish hair ... He closed his eyes and forced images of Mary Margaret’s sensual body to appear.
    “Much better,” he spoke aloud and next instant opened one eye to check if his voice had disturbed Elizabeth. It hadn’t. He closed his eye and returned to his visions.
    After a while, he decided this action only left him wanting and longing for Mary Margaret in his arms. A short nap was in order. He’d succumb to his sleepiness. He was a light sleeper, so he was certain he’d hear if Elizabeth awoke.
    * * * *
    The sound of the birds chirping outdoors a few moments earlier alerted Christian to dawn. Still, he opted to keep his eyes shut until a floorboard creaked. Instantly, his eyes popped open to glare across the room at Elizabeth ‘s own surprised look, before she charged for the door. In seconds, he was on his feet to block her escape.
    “Aren’t you forgetting something, Sister Friar?” he asked. He yanked her by the wrist to remove her hand from the door handle.
    She clawed at his grip to free herself. He grabbed her other wrist and dragged her back to his bed. Roughly, he pushed her until she fell down onto it. To keep her in place, he covered her body with his in a most intimate fashion.
    She yelped and stared up at him with terror in her eyes.
    “What are you doing? Get off me, you buffoon!”
    “Is this any way to treat your host? You were going to leave without one word of farewell. Not even a little thank-you.” He moved against her. The pleasurable feel of her hips against his own startled him even through the heavy wool of her robe.
    She squirmed beneath him and apparently understood her mistake, for she froze a mere seconds afterwards, yet her voice worked remarkably well.
    “You bug-licking ... beast! Get off me this instant.” She shoved at his shoulders.
    He leaned closer. His face was inches from hers. He smiled, and said, “Speaking of licking.” He let his gaze linger on her lips before he stared boldly into her eyes.
    “You wouldn’t?” she said, uncertainly.
    “Aye. I would. Unless you have some information to share about Adam.”
    His lips faintly brushed over hers. Amazingly, she only gazed up at him with eyes that no longer showed fear. Yet, she lay beneath him as still as a cold winter’s night. Christ, the woman appealed to him—the same woman Adam had planned to wed.
    He uttered a disgusted sigh and was about to rise from his position atop her when the bedchamber door slammed open. A woman’s shrill voice penetrated the air.
    “Chris, love, your manservant was gone so ...” Mary Margaret, his mistress, stopped in mid-sentence and in mid-stride into the room.
    “Holy Mother of God! What is going on in here?” the woman asked, clearly stunned by the scene before her.
    He jumped to his feet. Elizabeth followed suit to hide behind him while she hurriedly concealed her head in the hood of the robe.
    “ ‘Tis not what you think, Mary Margaret,” he said. “There’s a good explanation for all of this.”
    “Oh, there better be. I enter your bedchamber to find you coupling with a friar. Oh, there better be a good explanation. I’m no naive school lass. I’ve been around, and as you’re well aware of, I’m certainly willing to try new experiences, but really, Chris, a friar—a holy man? ‘Tis all so troubling.” She rubbed her forehead as someone extremely anguished would.
    “I told you. ‘Tis not what you think.”
    He glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth, cowering with her head down behind him.
    Mary Margaret started to move closer to them when he spoke up. “Nay. Stay back.” Damnation, what a time for Mary Margaret to make a surprise appearance.
    “I’ll do no such thing. You,” Mary