A medieval romance by
S.L. McKay
May 2004
CHAPTER FIVE
Synnove wrapped a large drying cloth around her body and a smaller one around her freshly washed hair. Humming softly, she padded her way to sit on a stool by the fire, removed the cloth from her head, and began comb drying her long locks. She had nearly finished when she felt a rush of cool air as the door to the bathing chamber opened.
"Ah, Audra, 'tis about time, I am starting to take a chill. Help me dress quickly." She stood up from the stool and dropped the drying cloth as she turned around.
Time stood still. Synnove was stunned by a magnetic force that paralyzed her body and mind. Eyes as dark as the depths of the North Sea held hers. North man eyes. Norman eyes. Eyes that went from looking into hers to slowly examining all of her attributes. She gasped, turned around, and bent quickly to retrieve the drying cloth, giving her visitor an unobstructed view of her shapely derriere.
Covering herself and recovering her wits, she spun back around. "How dare you, sir! How dare you sneak up on a maid, in the privacy of her bath no less! You Norman pig! Ooh!"
She picked up the comb she had been using before she was so rudely interrupted and threw it at the large target before her. His hand shot out and deftly caught the weapon.
Ranulf grinned, which infuriated her even more.
"Out! Out I say! This instant, get you gone from my sight!"
She gasped and clutched the drying cloth tighter as he sauntered toward her. Halting within inches of her, his shadow enveloped her. His heat carressed her as he slowly leaned over to put the fresh clothes he carried on the stool next to her. Her throat went dry. Her nostrils flared and registered his compelling scent. Her bodily involuntarily swayed toward him. He took a step back and bowed gallantly. Rising, he took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it before she snatched it away. Dangerous deep blue eyes twinkled into hers of blazing amber.
"If there is anything else you require, mon chere," he cooed, stepping to the door and opening it. "I will be just a heartbeat away."
"Ooh!" She reached for the closest thing to throw, which was a candlestick. It crashed against the door just as he closed it smoothly.
Synnove stared at the door. What had just happened? The Norman bastard had invaded her private refuge and gave no indication that he was one bit sorry for it. She reached down for her chemise and paused, staring at her garments. He had brought them to her, touched them without her permission. The swine! He had touched more than her clothes. He had seared her exposed body with his eyes -- smoky-blue, hypnotic. Then he had the audacity to physically touch her, to place a searing kiss upon her hand. Abruptly she lifted her hand before her eyes, expecting to see a blister forming but naught remained but the tingling memory of his warm lips.
Without being introduced she had known who he was the instant she saw his face. He was the man from her dreams. The dark storm that stirred her senses and conjured up emotions that she could not name. Yet Sombre le Tempete was neither a storm nor dream. He was real, dangerously real.
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