Conquering the Dark Axe Read online

  Oh! She punched the bed as anger surged through her. Then she stopped.

  The Norman would be back.

  A devilish grin lit her face as she climbed off the bed to pick up the key to her chains he had left lying on the table next to the bed.

  EIGHTEEN

  The tepid bath and fresh clothes had done nothing to quiet the upset raging through his blood and Rourke barked out orders to the guards standing outside his wife’s chamber to seek Goran. The men moved away and Rourke took a deep breath trying to calm and collect his thoughts. The hellion should be done with own her bath or so he hoped, for he was not so sure he would be able to bear seeing that naked body again. She had wanted to discuss some matters and he’d only his mind on other things that did not involve talking.

  Rourke, not trusting himself after the red-hot passion they’d shared last night, swore an oath under his breath. It had taken every ounce of strength in him to leave her side earlier. It had been harder than any battle he’d ever fought to get up and walk out when he’d wanted nothing more than to remain and lay comfortably at her side. To enjoy her heat and bask in those passion glazed wide amber eyes of thirst seeking his attention. Nay! What the hell was he thinking? He’d been the fool once, but never again.

  True the passion they shared was like none he’d ever known before, but ‘twas nothing more than good sex. Great sex. He had tried to quench the raging desires with Lina a few nights ago, but he’d only managed to get as far as the maid’s door before he’d stalked off and polished off the entire carafe of wine. Rourke heard voices coming up the hall and turned to meet the men headed in his direction.

  Alexa frowned at the chamber door over the loud sounds and thuds coming from the hall. What were they doing out there? Battle? Dressed in a fresh shift, she threw her damp heavy braid over her shoulder and whispered quietly to her maid. “What goes on out there?”

  Camm bent and picked up the soiled bed linens from the floor. “The new lord wants to make changes to his chamber, mistress.”

  “His chamber!?” The words exploded out of her. “That is my chamber.” Alexa fumed. “Changes? Like what?”

  “None for you to worry about. You are dismissed, Camm.”

  Alexa wheeled about at Rourke’s booming timbre. She had not even heard the door open. He was not alone, his man, Goran and two other men she’d never seen before stood in the doorway. Alexa felt warmth fill her cheeks. She was dressed only in a thin shift and the material was not thick. As if he thought the same, Rourke’s eyes darkened as they fastened on her and looked over her from head to toe. Camm skirted around the men and exited.

  Rourke crossed over to her in two long strides with his hand out.

  Alexa folded her arms and gave him a puzzled look. He tilted his head and she let out a curse. Why did the devil have to be so handsome? And why had she noticed?

  He jerked his hand in front of her face again. She told him, angrily, “You do have to speak to me if I am to know what it is that you seek, Norman.”

  His eyes turned icy. She did not care. His men were staring at her openly, taking their fill of her.

  Alexa continued hearing the arrogance in her tone. “Well, what is it that you want?”

  He spoke through clenched teeth. “The key.”

  Alexa sighed, her shoulders sagging. Damn him! “Why ask me. Think you I know where you keep that horrid thing?” She said and gave him her back only to be spun back around quickly by his hand on her arm.

  “Do not vex me so. If your aim is to seek further shame in front of my men, I will be happy to oblige. Otherwise, I suggest you hand over the key. Now.”

  His glittering green eyes blazed with fury and something else. Alexa wanted to argue, but saw in them she would not win this fight of power and with slow, deliberate and outright defiance, she lowered her arms from over her breasts and sauntered across the room past his men.

  Before she reached the chest holding Lisbeth’s jewelry, Rourke’s enraged roar to his men filled the chamber as he ordered them all out.

  Rourke slammed the door behind them. The walls of the chamber shook. He stared at his wife as she reached into the small box and withdrew the key. When she faced him, he saw the devilish glint in her eyes. She’d done it apurpose! God’s teeth!

  He could see the outline of her nipples and the curve of those lush hips. Her damp thick braid had wet the back of the shift and although the material was loose, her round buttocks were easily visible if one looked hard enough. And his men had.

  Rourke swelled with anger and a long forgotten tightness filled his chest. He recognized the emotion immediately.

  Jealousy! And he hated her in that moment for forcing him to feel it.

  “Get in the bed.” His words came out low and firm. She shocked him further when she walked over to it. She stood next to it, but did not get in.

  “Do you not wish for the key, Norman?”

  Rourke did not trust himself to speak over her mocking tone. He would not take the bait. His jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He walked to her and thrust out his hand once more. She did not put it in his palm.

  “What changes are you making to my- our chamber?” Alexa asked him.

  A confused expression crossed his angry face for a brief moment before he shook his head and replied gruffly. “I need more room and it is too…” he paused for a long moment. “It is not fit for a man.”

  “That’s because ‘tis my room!” Alexa shouted, shocked at her outburst. But he did not react as she had hoped.

  “Nay, this is your room now, hellion. Give me the key or do you wish for me to take it from you? Your choice.”

  The grin that curled up at the side of his mouth was not a friendly one. With a grunt of disgust, Alexa slapped the key into his open palm and crossed her arms over her chest. She was stunned when his fingers gripped her chin in a tight grip.

  “Perform like a whore in front of my men or anyone ever again and I will beat you.”

  Alexa was too stunned to respond and when she could have, he ducked his head and covered her mouth with his.

  The kiss was rough and possessive before he softened it. When he finally pulled back, Alexa was left panting, her chest heaving with her lips tingly. He glared at her. His own lips swollen.

  “Exercise this morning. I will be back this eve to have this discussion you so seek.”

  With that he left the chamber and Alexa, her thoughts jumbled, sat down hard on the edge of the bed.

  Rourke could feel Goran’s breath on his neck as he crested the hill and he did not turn to look at him, instead, he kept his gaze ahead, taking in the view before him.

  He watched the workers that had been instructed to start building his castle. He could not wait and the anticipation of the pending fortress made Rourke’s blood pound. His gaze swept down the large incline to the patrols he had set to watch the area. He was now a powerful overlord among a select few of this northern region. And once this final piece was built, no man would dare think challenge him. Except Claydon of Gravane and Darc, the Beast of Renald. But they would not. Both knights had fought alongside him in many a battle and now not only were they all friends, but each would easily stand behind the other.

  A formidable force indeed.

  Rourke closed his eyes for a silent moment and inhaled deeply to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he opened his eyes. The weather was on their side today. Dry and although the skies were cloudy and gray, the brightness of the day was a welcome sight.

  He felt Goran come to stand beside him. He was in no mood to engage in conversation with anyone.

  “My lady has a feisty spirit to match your own.”

  “'Tis a stormy marriage, Goran.” Rourke snapped and was surprised at his quick response. He let out a long painful breath. The hellion had his wits undone!

  “Aye, but just the sort you need.”

  “What do you know? Know you this way of marriage?” Rourke all but shouted at him.

  Goran raised his hands, pa
lms facing out and an expression akin to horror twisting his pleasant features. “Nay that my friend is for you, not me. No offense, but I like too many wenches to be tied to one. Your ire toward me tells me all that needs be said.”

  “Is that right? Just concentrate your thoughts on the matter at hand and less on what goes on between her and I. Think you can handle that, my friend?” Rourke said through clenched teeth and shot him a dark glower before turning away. Goran’s words were true and he’d no right to take it out on him.

  Aye, feisty she was indeed. Very much so almost too much so for her own good. He would tame her and enjoy every last bit of it. All he wanted from the hellion was a son.

  Uneasiness crept over him and Rourke started back down the grassy knoll toward the practice field. His angry strides lengthened with his whirling thoughts. She was his wife, but still his enemy all the same. She hated him and he would never let himself forget that.

  ‘Twas just after noon and Rourke had exhausted the last of his sparring partners. The other men on the practice field took Goran’s nod as salvation and sought shelter and relief in the knights quarters in a building next to the manor. The chill of the stormy day was setting in, but the fire stoked in and driving Rourke was not affected.

  He walked away from the fallen and exhausted body of the last soldier looking for another to take his place. When Rourke spotted the field empty, he turned his dark accusing gaze on Goran.

  His longtime friend shrugged, threw up his hands and said, “Pushing your men to the limits is not the answer.” Rourke took a step in his direction and Goran continued, hurriedly, “Time has come for telling. Were you to try and talk to your wife, perhaps –“

  His words were cut off when Rourke’s short blade whizzed past his head and embedded itself in one of the wooden quintain’s just to the left of him.

  “Do not speak her name.” Rourke was upon him in a few strides.

  Goran did not back down. “This aggression muddles your thoughts.” He said and ducked a near blow connecting with his face. Like a raging bull, Rourke stalked him. “I will not be your sparring partner nor will any of the men when you are in a mood like this. I must save you from yourself.”

  Rourke’s rich laughter filled the yard with a puff of cold air. “Save me from myself? Whose thoughts are muddled? Come here and let this be the telling you speak of.” He shook his large balled fist at his friend and added with a crooked smile. “That is an order.”

  Goran dared not laugh, but he took another step back all the same. “Nay,” he replied and suggested instead, “If you would but think a moment on it. Wooing is a place to start, then…”

  Rourke’s roar had Goran turn and run. He was as tall as Rourke, but lighter and what Rourke possessed in strength, Goran possessed in speed and always had. His long legs had a head start and by the time Rourke caught the back of his tunic, his lord was good and winded.

  Rourke turned Goran around with a jerk. They stared at one another a long moment. Then Rourke dropped him and stepped away with a grunt. He fisted his hands in the small of his back as he tried to calm his ragged breath.

  “Only you, Goran. Only you- test me.”

  Both men shared a hearty laugh. Rourke sucked in a breath and raked both hand through his golden tangled hair.

  Goran scoffed, not at all winded and said, “That’s cause only I dare.”

  “True. Still, I will never woo a Saxon wench.” Rourke said, the laughter gone from his tone.

  “I think you need think on this wooing, Rourke. Truly.”

  Rourke’s raised brow was a warning. Goran shrugged and his gaze was caught by a rider coming over the rise. Rourke’s eyes followed.

  ‘Twas just a sentry he’d sent out earlier on patrols. Rourke gave Goran a stern look before expelling a calming breath. “Come. Join me for a drink of wine and mayhap we can discuss this wooing business.”

  Goran said nothing, but a smile tilted the corner of his lips as he walked beside his lord back to the manor.

  Rourke’s thoughts returned to his wife. There was no doubt in his mind that the she enjoyed him bedding her. But was she capable of loving him? Nay. He grew angry over the direction of his thoughts and the recognition that he wanted her to love him. He yearned for it. Hadn’t he always yearned for his own love, secretly?

  Aye, Goran had been right. He’d let the salt of an old wound fester in him far too long by letting his bitterness and grief over Lady Jacqueline turn him into the brutal and viscous warrior he’d become. It had hardened him and he’d taken what he wanted from women and left nothing behind.

  Never had he a care to remain with any before he’d met Alexa. Not even Jacqueline’s heated kisses and caresses roused him to nigh madness in the way his wife did. Few far and between knew who he really was outside of Goran. His wife had yet to glimpse who he truly was. Mayhap this wooing business might ease some of the discord between them.

  NINETEEN

  Alexa had hoped after his actions last night that she would be allowed to remain free and unbound. But she had hoped wrong for Camm had come almost immediately after her bit of exercise had been completed with one of his men in tow and the irons were clamped around her wrists and feet. As she lay there, Alexa had fumed for what seemed like hours and at the first signs of dusk, she almost gave in to her disappointment and sorrow. He’d given his word that he would come to discuss things and when night fell and he still had not, she went to sleep to stop herself from giving into tears.

  Voices soon woke her and Alexa turned toward the sound to peer through her drowsy lids. Her husband’s back and his man Goran along with those same two men she’d not recognized earlier stood with the chamber door propped open. The great size of the men dwarfed all else in the small barely lit corridor. Rourke stood with his large frame leaned against the doorjamb.

  Alexa knew she’d not made a sound, but he turned her way and met her gaze. Those green eyes sent shivers down her spine. He said nothing and turned back and rejoined the conversation with the men.

  What were they doing gathered here with their whispers? She wondered. Something was afoot. Their body language confirmed it. Bits and pieces of their words reached Alexa’s ears and her body went rigid at what she heard.

  They were discussing the changes he’d made to her home. She learned he had begun to build a Norman castle opposite the family burial ground. Sadness seeped into her bones as she listened to the extensive plans the man had for her lands. Growth and more wealth would come, but at the expense of the English and to the likes of these Norman invaders. She understood now, why they were in the room.

  Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, he turned but this time he faced her with one arched brow. His expression, one of amusement caused a tremor to run through her and Alexa, her sadness too great, could not hide it from her gaze. Feeling utterly helpless she turned her head away and closed her eyes. She swore by the look in his eyes he’d hoped she’d heard and she had.

  Sickness filled her gut. He’d done it apurpose for surely he'd known the depth of pain his words would bring to her and Alexa cursed him silently. There was naught she could about it and he knew it. His cruel whims brought her deep grief. Tears stung the back of her lids and she tried to will the sound of all their voices away. She had asked for a discussion with him, not this. Damn his cruel Norman hide!

  She must have fallen asleep for when she woke again, he was gone along with the others. Darkness enveloped the room save for the couple of candles; Camm no doubt, had left lit on the candle table. She had need of the garderobe and prayed her maid would return soon.

  Seeing the top of the wooden chest empty, she realized she had not slept too late after all. Camm had yet to bring the evening meal and Alexa found her stomach churning at the thought. She cast the thought of food aside and took deep breaths when she realized she had been mistaken. She was not alone after all and that someone yet remained in the room. She could hear them breathing in the darkness.

  Panic seized her an
d too late, Alexa turned her head. Hands came down hard over her mouth and nose, crushing and cutting off her breath.

  A soft cloth with a strong stench clinging to it was shoved into her mouth. Alexa fought back the urge to retch, her eyes stinging from the strong smell. She lost the battle. Fear of death gripped her over her helpless position as the first spasms seized her throat.

  He would take his wife her tray tonight. Rourke told himself it was just to make sure that she ate, not that he wanted to see her or the sorrow gone from her eyes. The sorrow he’d put there earlier. His intent had been cruelty, but when he’d seen the pain in her eyes, something had torn inside him. Deep regret had set in. He’d tried to ignore it, explain it away with many different reasons, yet, naught sufficed. Bringing her tray was his first try in this madness of wooing that Goran so wished for him to try.

  He opened the door to her chamber and her chilling wheeze met his ears.

  Pure terror raced through him as he watched her body convulse on the bed as she gagged and choked nigh to death on the vomit spewing from her throat all over her.

  Rourke bellowed, “Nay!”

  The tray hit the floor with a loud crash and he was next to the bed fumbling for the key in the fold of his tunic, but not fast enough and so he flipped the mattress onto its side. His arms locked around her jerking body and grasping her head, he held it at a painful angle as she bucked and fought for air.

  Finally when he had cleared the vomit from her throat, she sobbed heavily as he quickly unlocked the chains. The fear that still gripped him caused him to pull her limp and sweaty form into his arms and onto his lap.

  Vomit covered his tunic and breeches but Rourke did not care as he held her whilst the hysterical choking sobs had their way with her. Alexa’s hands at first clutched at the collar of his tunic, and then she beat her fists against his neck.

  “You bastard! I almost died!”