Fate's Kiss Chapter Three

Fate's Kiss

Chapter three

By Cathy Brockman

After seeing to my daily duties, I go inside and wash using  my best smelling soap, my brother’s wife had  gotten me form a street vendor. I want smell and look my best for my love, not smell like a horse stable. I readied my mare Delilah and have her waiting for my ride.

 I ride deep into the woods; the rich earthy scent relaxing me. As I near our usual meeting place, fear and disappointment grip me. Where is she?

I ride a little further to the nearby stream so I can let my horse drink. I sat on a nearby rock and watch Delilah; pondering why she hasn’t shown up. She is always awaiting me. Has she changed her mind about me? Found someone else? Has her clan left?

“Nee-co-li! The man than steals my dreams,” Her rich voice sings through the air sending shivers straight to my soul.   

I spin at the deep sultry drawl of my name. How I love the way my name rolls over her tongue so slow and sensuous. Just the sound of her voice does things to my body, making me ashamed for her to see me. I fold my hands over my lap to hide my arousal wishing it to fade, but knowing as long as she is near it will do nothing but grow stronger and harder.

Turning to face her, my heart falters at the mere sight of her. Long, raven hair cascades in waves over her olive brown shoulders that peek from under the white blouse that shows off her womanly figure. Big brown eyes glitter in the sliver of sunlight that filters through the trees.

 The way she looks at me, as if I am the only man she has ever seen, makes me feel on top of the world. Right now, for the next couple hours it is as if only the two of us exist here in our private little kingdom.

“Do you truly dream of me, Illia?” My voice comes out thick and faltered, betraying me, as does my body.

“Would you like me to show you what I dream of my love?” She glides forward gracefully like a wild-cat stalking its prey.

As much as I want her, even though I hear rumors that her people don’t hold sacred the values and morals as do we, I will wait for her. I will show her that to me she is more Lady than any in the town, Hell the entire world, to me. I can wait.

“Come sit with me love. Tell me about your day. When we are apart I feel as if part of me is gone.” I wrap my arm around her as she sits next to me leaning her head on my shoulders.

 I gently stroke the silky tress and soft skin on her shoulder. I try to ignore the pain that nags  me in my loins, but it gets more difficult every time we are close.

“You are such the gentlemen, Nicolai my love. So charming. I don’t want to waste precious time talking when I would much rather feel your lips on mine.” She slides her hand slowly up my knee heading into very dangerous territory. I long to feel her hands stroking my most private place, to feel her hands on my bare skin, but I know this is forbidden. If I ever give in to just such a small temptation, I will be doomed like our forefather Adam after he tasted the forbidden fruit. I can wait. I must wait.

All of a sudden she is in my lap. Her skirt pushed up high on her thighs so she can wrap her legs around my waist. She leans close her body pressed so tightly against mine only the fabric we wear separates us from being one. I can feel the warmth of her body against my groin even through our clothes. Her lips bind with mine, first softly then harsher, more eager. She wants me as much as I do her. God help me. Give me strength to resist this temptation. Give me patience, no not patience but will. Mother always told me to never pray for patience.

“Illia. Heavens woman you will be my undoing.” I pant breathlessly, my voice resembling the squeak of a mouse as I put my hands on her narrow hips and try fruitlessly to dislodge her from my lap. She is much stronger than she looks and very determined. And alas I am very weak. I find it hard to think, much less form words. I know we need to talk but my mouth would much rather be kissing her, tasting her.

Her lips press against mine again, the wet silk of her tongue caressing my upper lip seeking entrance. I surrender to her for a moment. I manage to find a pittance of strength and ease her back slowly.

“Love, we must talk. Father has chosen a wife for me. He is adamant on this and is having a dinner this weekend, for our families to meet and make arrangements.”

Anger flashes through her dark eyes. She grabs my shoulders tightly, fingers digging into my flesh. “No! You belong to me. I will cast a spell on her entire family!

“Illia you mustn’t say such things. The towns people fear your clan already, don’t let them hear you speaking of such untruths.” Fear tries to force it’s way over my desire.

“If you want me for your wife you must understand our kind. We can do things. Some of us are more powerful than others. Some of us can evoke the Dark Ones, most of us know better.” Her body still trembles lightly, though I am unsure if it is anger or need.

My hands tremble more now, partially from fear mixed with my earlier desires. I take her into my arms. Her deep brown eyes now stormy and darker than night. My lips still ache to kiss her. She pulls away.

“We are what we are Nicolai. Does that frighten you? Can you love a witch?” Her voice is now soft as a whisper of the wind through the leaves.

“Illia I love you. No matter what. Let’s not waste what little time we have on this.” I reach for her again and she melts into my arms like the butter on my flapjack this morning.

This is what I have longed for all day. All night. We stand folded into each other’s arms, it seems as even the wind has stilled.

“What will you do about your Father Nicolai? You can’t defy him. I can’t bear to see you hurt again.” Her lips graze the side of my face, her hands carries my back, fingers trailing over my muscles like tiny serpents sending my nerve endings into turmoil.

I try to get my body and mind into one accord. We need to talk, make a plan, but my thoughts are like mist. I pull her off me and take her hand leading her to a fallen tree that serves as a settee. I pull her onto my lap folding my arms around her relishing the feel of her body against mine. The more I have these moments the more I long for them.

“When have you seen me hurt?” I whisper into her silken hair.

“I have watched you for a long time. I see how your father treats you different from your brother. I have seen the scars on your back, the hurt in your eyes. Sometimes it is hard to not wish a curse on him. But I know you love him and would hate me if harm came to him through my people.”

“I could never hate you, love but please promise to not curse my family.” I pull back her hair lightly nipping at her neck, causing her to tremble and giggle.

She stands up and turns around facing me. Throwing back her had she chuckles.

“Even a witch doesn’t give a word she knows she cannot keep.” She holds her hands out to me as I stand she pulls her into her arms crushing me with her lips. Long slim fingers trace along my nose, my jaw, my lips, as her eyes search mine. I try to breathe.

“You are so handsome Nicolai. With your dark hair, dark skin and your name, you could easily pass as one of our clan.”

“Do you really think so, Illia?” An idea come to me.

“Of course my love, only you cannot see how attractive you are. All the women look at you, want you as I do. It makes me want to turn them into bugs and stomp them.”

I feel color rise into my cheeks.

“No, silly woman. I mean could I really pass as one of you? Would your clan accept me?” I brush the hair from her shoulder and kiss it lightly savoring the salting taste on my tongue.

“You would truly give up all this for me?” She waves her hands encompassing the land my father owns. The sky begins to darken I know it is getting closer to time for us to part. My heart weighs heavy.

“Illia I would give my life for you.”

If you missed the first episode you can find it here: 

The second here: 

 And come back next week to the shocking conclusion. I promise you won’t see this one coming.

Fate's Kiss Chapter Two

 Fate's kiss

 Chapter 2

By Cathy Brockman

“Brother you look troubled. Would you like to go to town tonight to ease your frustrations? Perhaps a drink or a lady? Or Both?” He waggles his thick brows, his deep, throaty, laugh rumbles through the room as he pushes the costly pewter coffee server that Mother loved so much, and a dish of sugar lumps towards me.

“No thank you, Jonathan. I am going to go for a ride before dinner, then I will read a little before turning in.” I pour myself a cup of the dark; rich brew and think of how much it looks like Illia’s soulful brown eyes. I let out an audible sigh.

“I can go with you if you like and we can talk. Man to man. It seems lately you are deeply troubled.” Jonathan pushes me a plate of fresh biscuits and butter.

“Master Nicolai, how do you want your eggs today?” Maybelle, our cook kisses me softly on the cheek. Jonathan moves his head back and she pinches his cheek instead.

I can’t help but chuckle. Jonathan acts all tough but he loves her as much as I do. She has practically raised us both since mother died of fever when we were but young lads. She is married to one of our ranch hands. Slaves no longer exist since the war, but a lot of the old slaves stayed on with their plantations. Most had nowhere else to go. Maybelle and Roper hired on with us for a small pittance and a place to live. He works with Dad on the ranch and she cooks and cleans our house.

Sometime I like to think she is the mother I no longer have. I can talk to her about anything. She doesn’t treat me like my Father does, like I am just another of his prize stallions. Instead of horses to sell, I am to produce him more grandsons to carry on his name and granddaughters to barter for prestige.

 Let Jonathan do that, he likes breeding. At least the act of it. He will use any excuse to go into town and visit the Parlor. I chuckle to myself. Father would go insane if Jonathan got any of those girls with child. But not half as mad as he would if he found out about Illia. He would rather our name be sullied by a common whore than a Gypsy.

Why does he have to dislike the Gypsy people so much? They are just people like us. They are not the heathens Father calls them. No heathen could be as beautiful, kind, or loving as Illia. He also calls Illia’s clan witches. I have asked her this and she said they do some magic but not all magic is evil. Some of their potions render healing, invoke peace and love, or protect them from evil. That’s a good thing, not evil. No different really from doctors.

I think we should not fear what we do not know. We should learn the ways of those we consider our foe. If we knew more of the other people and why they do the things they do instead of shunning and hunting them down to burn as evil, the world would be such a better place. But that won’t happen anytime soon, if ever. Especially for Father. He is dead set in his way of thinking. Only he is right, in his mind.

Cook brings my eggs and bacon and a plate of slapjack with warm maple syrup. I take in a deep breath, inhaling the sweet aroma of the syrup and the smoky aroma of the bacon. I savor each bite as the syrup and hot cakes slide over my tongue, teasing my taste-buds. A smile curves over my lips as I think of Illia. However good this tastes, she will taste so much sweeter. Her kisses taste like the nectar of the Gods.

“Maybelle, what did you put in Nicolai’s cakes that you didn’t in mine. He looks as if he has just seen heaven. You always have favored him more.” Jonathan drops his lips in a big boyish pout.

 He is much more handsome with his fairer skin and light hair like Father, and more outgoing than I am. I can see why the ladies flock about him wherever we go. Whether it’s a high society party, a church social, he can always have his pick.

 Why he throws away his savings on the women at the bordellos I will never understand. He can have any he desires for free. I look more like Mother with my dark hair and skin, the only exception being my blue eyes. I have no trouble attracting ladies by all means; some prefer the darker look though the more innocent seem to like the fairer ones.  Like hair color or skin tells anything of a person’s nature. I am the gentler of the two of us. None if it really matters since my heart has already been won.

 “Ah boy! You know I love you both as you are my own, but Nicolai has the disposition of his mother, sweet and gentle. You boy, are surely your Father’s son!” She set more slapjacks in front of Jonathan with a chuckle, a playful ruffle of his hair and leaves the room to start lunch, no doubt.

“When are you planning on going for your ride?” He takes another bite and sighs in pleasure. Maybelle does make the best slapjack in the state.

“As soon as I see to my chores.” I take a bite of eggs and pray that he changes his mind about tagging along.

Jonathan raises an eyebrow as he looks at me. I guess my face must have conveyed my unease of him wanting to go with me. I could never play poker; I tried once and lost what I brought along very quickly. I would rather spend my money on a book or a trinket for Illia.

“I have to go into town and get some feed and a few things. I would ask you to come along, but I think this ride into the woods is more than you are saying. Please; dear brother, tell me you are not meeting with the gypsy girl again?” The look on his face is mixed with concern and disgust.

I refrain from answering and seem absorbed in my breakfast though now my stomach is churning with dread.

“I take your silence as a yes. Dammit Nicolai, why do you insist on defying Father? If he gets wind of this he will strip your back of its entire hide!” He slams down his fork, nearly knocking over the chair as he rises angrily.

“My hide is none of your concern.” I try to keep my voice steady and calm though he is right, I’d be lucky to live if Father found out how strongly I felt about her.

“It is when I put my own flesh on the line for you! I do everything in my power to divert his attention from you and where you are and what you’re about! Do as I have. Marry the woman he has chosen. I have met Maryanne. Dad has chosen well for you. She is very pretty, sweet disposition, as well as a wealthy Father. You will get a ranch of your own as dowry, that’s what you dream of, take as its handed to you on a silver platter with a lovely dish of lady on the side. Marriage isn’t a noose on your neck. I have my cake at home and get my frosting in town when I need more.”

“I have been saving for my own ranch. I don’t need Father’s money or a dowry. All I need is Illia. I would live in the woods and sleep under the stars, as long as she is by my side. If you ever fell in love, Jonathan you would understand how I feel.” I look at him with a set determination.

“Heavens, Nicolai. Take the damn woman Father has chosen. You can still trip off to the woods and see this girl. Have you met her family? Do they accept you? What will you do Nicolai, if her family feels the same way as yours?” He rakes his long fingers though his dusty brown hair, before putting on his hat and slamming out the door.

He is right. Illia is going through the same thing. Her family frowns on me as much as mine does her. Neither family has met either of us. How can they judge without even knowing us? I just don’t understand this. Mother wasn’t like that. She believed as I do, there is good in us all. Although, sometimes I just don’t see any good at all in Father. He is devious and spiteful. He has no room to talk about Gypsy’s, since he is more evil than any of them I have met.

I refuse to let this conversation get me down. It is bad enough to have this meeting of Maryanne looming over my head. Illia and I must do something soon. I cover my face with my hands and try to clear this aching in my head that wants to spread to my heart. I lick my drying lips as I search for my hat. The lingering taste of sticky sweet syrup jolts my taste buds, reminding me something sweeter awaits me in the woods.

If you missed the first Episode you can find it here! http://storytimetrysts.blogspot.com/2013/05/fates-kiss-chapter-one.html

Fate's Kiss Chapter One

Fate’s Kiss

By

Cathy Brockman

Hello everyone and Welcome to our new May stories. This month I am featuring my first historical romance Fate’s Kiss.  This is the prequel to my Love bites series. If you’d like to see How Nicolai became a vampire and a sweet romance of first and fated love, Join me each Friday in May.

 

Enjoy!

The warmth of the sun softly kissing my closed eyelids gently awakens me. I bound from my bed eager to get my chores done so I can take a ride through the forest. As much as I love riding my mare and exploring the beauty of the forest, I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit the real reason for my eagerness.

Illia, will be there foraging for roots, berries, and whatever it is the Gypsies use for food and making the magic elixirs they sometimes sell in town. And looking for me I hope.

Her family is an odd lot, but she is the most beautiful, fun and interesting Lass I have ever met. She is nothing like these starchy, arrogant Ladies at the church socials, or daughters of my father’s wealthy friends, that he is hell-bent on me marrying. Some of these women are easy on the eyes, but none tug on my heart or touch my soul the way the lovely Gypsy girl does. Every time I see her or even think about her, my heart beats faster and I can’t help but smile. Everything I see makes me think of her beauty that nothing can compare to. Everything I hear makes me think of her laughter, her soft musical voice.  She is my breath, my sustenance, my life.

We have been meeting in the woods or at the river for many moons. I am sure she feels the same for me as I do her. Almost every day we end up seeing each other somewhere. It has to be more than a mere coincidence.

I know deep inside me that she is my one and only. She is my destiny or perhaps, my fate; my Soul-mate. It will definitely be my fate if Father ever finds out I am consorting with a peasant girl behind his back. A Gypsy at that.

She is my first thought of the day and my last at night. Even as I sleep her image pervades my dreams. Long Raven hair, deep, dark brown eyes, round angelic face, thick luscious lips, soft womanly curves, and sweet musical voice that makes my heart and body come alive. I cannot seem to get her out of my head. I do not even wish to try. There must be a way to get father to understand how I feel, though my brother seems to agree that feelings are not as important as the power and prestige that come with marrying the proper lady.

I awaken, my body aching to see her in the flesh and not just in my dreams. My heart begins to ache mere moments after we part. I know this is the love Mother spoke of in the tales she always told my brother and I at night before we went to bed. Ah, how I miss her. If she was still alive she would know what to do. She would deal with Father and tell him to let me make my own decision. She was so different from father. Alas, the angels took her from us when I was but a wee lad, so I will just have to figure this out and deal with Father on my own.

For now, I will just have to hurry and check on the livestock and make sure the hands are doing their duties for Father and relish the moments I will have later in the woods. I pull on my breeches and boots. Every nerve in my body burns with the thoughts of seeing her soon. I ache for the touch of her soft skin, gazing into her chocolate eyes, hearing the way she whispers my name and perhaps stealing tender kisses from her luscious, full lips.

I rush down the stairs to breakfast. The sooner I get my chores done, the sooner I get to look for her.