Embroidered Fantasies

Chapter Four

The shape of a huge man loomed over her. Roxanne scrambled away even as she opened her mouth and screamed. Michael had found her and he was trying to kill her.

She blinked as she scuttled away. She was lying on a hard, scratchy surface.

Something was wrong. She didn’t recognize her surroundings. Had Michael knocked her out and taken her somewhere?

Her body broke out in a cold sweat and her heart pounded so hard it hurt her chest.

Roxanne couldn’t breathe. She tried to scream again but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Terror filled her even as her fingers closed into fists. She would fight back. She was a victim no longer.

He moved into a shaft of light coming from a high window. Roxanne frowned. It wasn’t Michael. Her heart skipped a beat. He was huge, maybe even bigger than her ex-husband. His expression was fierce. His golden-brown eyes reminded her of those of an eagle, sharp and predatory. His jaw was square, his lips firm. He had a bump in the center of his rather large nose and a wicked scar on his right cheekbone just below his eye.

His dark brown hair fell all the way to his waist. She swallowed hard when she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His massive chest was bare, covered only in a light sheen of sweat. Oh god. Was he one of Michael’s friends? The one from prison Michael had mentioned. He didn’t have any tattoos. But that didn’t mean anything. It was naïve to think everyone who went to prison had them.

He held out his hand. “There is no need to be afraid. You are safe.” She frowned. She’d heard those words before. His voice was familiar too. The fog cleared from her mind and she tried to remember what had happened. She’d hit her head on the edge of the table. Michael had caught her when she’d made a run for the kitchen, dragging her back to the living room and tossing her onto the davenport. She’d landed on top of the tapestry.

She stilled, staring at the stranger who’d made no move toward her. She noted a few things she hadn’t before. He was wearing thick bronze bands around his biceps and his wrists. Leather pants molded the heavy muscles in his thighs. Brown leather boots covered his feet, rising almost all the way to his knees. But it was the huge sword strapped to his waist that caught her attention. How she’d missed it before now, she had no idea. The thing had to be at least four feet long.

“You’re the mystery man from my dream,” she blurted.

He frowned, his dark brows drawing together. He took a step toward her and she shifted back until her back struck something hard. She was in a stone room of some kind, sitting on several bales of straw or hay. Impossible.

“Dream?” He lowered himself slowly until he was sitting next to her. She was effectively caged in with nowhere to go. He lifted his hand toward her and she flinched in spite of her resolve to be brave. He hesitated but didn’t stop until his fingers cupped her jaw. “What dream?”

His voice was deep and compelling. Before she knew what she was doing, she was spilling the details. “You saved me from my ex-husband and then took me to a castle, and then…” She could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks and knew she was blushing at the memory of what had happened, even though it had only been a dream. “This must be a dream too. Maybe I’m unconscious somewhere.” She grabbed a piece of skin on her arm and pinched. Hard. “Ouch.”

He sat back and his fingers drifted away from her face. “Why did you do that?” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

“Because I’m dreaming,” she explained. “Michael was attacking me and I fell.” She frowned. “Maybe I have a concussion or something,” she muttered. She sensed her dream man’s growing impatience and hurried on. “You saved me from him the first time, so I guess my subconscious conjured you again. I blame it on the tapestry.” She sensed the change in him immediately. His entire body tensed, every muscle coiled and ready to react. Expectation filled the air around them. “What tapestry?” She heard the urgency in his voice and responded. “The one I bought from the white-haired lady at the flea market. It was pretty dirty, but it cleaned up nice. It had a picture of two warriors standing in front of a castle so it’s no wonder I conjured you out of my imagination.”

And why she was babbling about an old tapestry when she was probably in grave danger, she had no idea. Had to be nerves. But if she was dreaming, why was she nervous? Roxanne was confused and her head was pounding. She raised her hand to her left temple and touched it gingerly, moaning when it increased the throbbing in her brain.

“You’re hurt?” He leaned forward and tilted her face toward the light.

“It’s nothing,” she lied. “It’s just where I hit my head when Michael tossed me over the side of the davenport.”

A low growl came from her dream man, yet she was no longer afraid. She sensed he was angry on her behalf. He’d protected her before in her dream, so it was natural for her to trust him. And she couldn’t keep calling him dream man. “Who are you?” His brown eyes captured her with their piercing gaze. “I am Radnor of the House of Craddock. You are at Craddock Keep.”

The name was strong and suited him. Unlike her ex who was a golden boy, this man looked dark and dangerous. Not the sort you wanted to meet in a back alley. He exuded danger.

He gently fingered a lock of her hair. “Who are you?” She swallowed hard, ignoring the way her heart tripped when he touched her. It wasn’t from fear, but arousal, which wasn’t at all appropriate given the circumstances.

He was waiting patiently for her to respond to his question, so she answered. “Roxanne Sykes.”

“Roxanne.” He said her name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue in a way that made her skin go hot, then cold.

She shivered and nodded.

“And you say the tapestry brought you here?” he continued.

She frowned. That wasn’t what she’d said. “No. I said you reminded me of the tapestry I bought at the flea market. I’m here because I’m unconscious.” Her frown deepened. “Or maybe I’m dead and this is heaven. But if it was heaven, would my head still hurt?” She shrugged away her question. “Anyway, I was fighting my ex-husband off and then there was a flash of light. I think the tapestry was underneath me.”

“Ex-husband?” Roxanne could hear the menacing threat in his voice.

She didn’t want to talk about Michael. “He found me after he got out of prison.

We’re divorced, but he still came after me.” She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled.

Radnor’s scowl deepened. “I do not understand the word divorce. He is not your husband?”

“No. He hurt me and I left him.” She hated talking about that. It brought back all the old feelings of inadequacy. Made her feel somehow less because she’d stayed with Michael for so long before getting the courage to leave. A man like Radnor couldn’t understand what it felt like to be under someone else’s cruel rule, unable to defend oneself, unable to leave. He was strong. A warrior. She was a woman. A woman very alone in the world.

But, she reminded herself, she’d gotten the courage to leave even though it had cost her dearly. She was brave. She had remade her life and no one was going to make her feel ashamed again. She tilted her chin upward, daring him to make some comment about her staying with a man who abused her.

Radnor growled. “He hurt you.”

Roxanne nodded, buffeted by the waves of fury rolling off the man seated beside her. Yet she wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t feel threatened. Of course, this wasn’t real.

“Where is he?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Not that it matters. This is just a dream anyway, brought on by the tapestry I purchased. Obviously, I got more than I bargained for when I spent my ten bucks. I didn’t know it came complete with erotic fantasies.” Radnor’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. Masculine satisfaction emanated from every pore of his body. He straightened his shoulders and stared down at her. “The tapestry brought you to Craddock Keep. You belong to us now.”

Roxanne’s eyes widened at his audacious statement. She didn’t belong to anyone but herself. Before she could tell him so, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Her eyelids drifted shut.

Radnor couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman from his dreams was here. She’d appeared out of nowhere, brought by the magical tapestry of Javara lore. It should have been impossible. The tapestry usually only came once a generation. On the rare occasion it came twice. It had already been here three times in his lifetime, bringing tapestry brides to a world starved for women.

But the last time had been different. The woman it had brought had been an ancestor to the sorceress who’d created the tapestry. His sister, Genita, had told him all about the happenings at Castle Garen a year ago. The woman, Kathryn Piedmont, had been able to summon the tapestry at will. Perhaps the rules had changed.

Whatever the reason, Radnor wasn’t about to question his good fortune. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Roxanne’s. Her name suited her. It sounded strong and exotic, much like the woman herself.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat as he kissed her but she didn’t pull away. He kept the kiss light, when what he really wanted to do was strip her naked and claim her as his own. His cock throbbed in agreement, but his brain reminded him that he was not an animal like his older brothers had been.

Roxanne had been hurt. She was frightened, although she tried to hide it. He wanted her to feel safe with him.

He traced the full curve of her bottom lip with his tongue. She tasted sweet. She sucked in a breath, parting her lips, and he dipped inside. A brief touch. Light.

Undemanding.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The muscles in his arms ached he was clenching them so tight to keep from tugging her into his arms. She made another small sound of desire and the pressure of her mouth increased as she shifted closer to him.

Radnor wanted to roar in triumph. He parted his lips, inviting her to explore his mouth. Like a skittish foal, she hesitated before dipping her tongue inside. He touched his tongue to hers and she withdrew. Radnor kept the kiss gentle and seconds later, she was back, this time going deeper.

Unable to resist, he raised one hand and cupped the back of her head. Again, he kept the pressure light. Simply touching her. Demanding nothing. Her hair was soft. He longed to bury his fingers in it and deepen the kiss.

He felt the lightest pressure on his chest. He caught his breath but didn’t move. Her fingertips played over the hard muscles of his chest before trailing over his biceps.

Roxanne examined his armbands briefly before drifting upward to stroke his neck.

His cock was as hard as stone. His balls were heavy, aching for release. There was no way to hide the bulge pressing at the front placket of his pants and he didn’t even try. She needed to know he wanted her, needed to become accustomed to his body, his touch.

He leaned back and their lips parted. She opened her eyes and blinked, looking as shocked as he felt. The sexual connection between them was undeniable. Radnor wanted Roxanne with a depth of need that shook him to his core. Never in his life had he allowed himself to want something as much as he wanted her.

It was disconcerting. But there was no denying it. The tapestry had brought her here and it was up to him, and Sednar, to find a way to keep her here. That meant convincing her to stay. From all he’d learned about the tapestry, the woman had the final choice if she stayed or went back to wherever she came from. The man could do nothing to stop her. That was the magic of the tapestry.

She cleared her throat. “That was…” She raised her fingers to her mouth and touched her lips. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“You liked it.” He would not let her deny her pleasure or the connection that existed between them.

She frowned at him, creating little lines on her brow. “That’s beside the point.” Radnor touched the spot between her eyes and smoothed away the creases. He shook his head at her stubborn refusal to admit to the sexual spark that flared between them. “That is the point. You are here now and I will protect you.”

“Don’t you understand?” She spoke slowly, as if to a child. “This isn’t real.” He grinned in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “If it’s only a dream, you won’t mind if I do this.” Taking advantage of the moment, he leaned forward and captured her mouth, kissing her the way he longed to. His tongue surged between her lips, exploring the moist cavern of her mouth. He used his hand on the back of her head, tilting it so he had a better angle of penetration.

Roxanne moaned, her tongue tangling with his. Pleasure shot through him as she returned his caress. She was so sweet, like nothing he’d ever tasted in his life. Better than the finest wine, sweeter than the juiciest fruit.

Her unique scent surrounded him, a combination of flowers and warm, willing woman. She smelled like a dream long buried, like hope. Her pussy would taste even sweeter, with a hint of spice. He’d sampled her cream in his dream and knew the reality of it would be even better.

He placed his hand on her ankle. Her leg jerked slightly but she didn’t object.

Radnor kept kissing her as he ran his hand over her calf and knee. He slipped his hand beneath the strange-colored tunic she wore. Her skin was smooth and inviting. She shifted restlessly beside him.

He paused, not going any higher. She froze beneath his hand, quivering with indecision. He could almost hear her thoughts as she debated letting him go further or pushing him away.

She tore her lips from his. “I don’t understand any of this.” The confusion in her voice went straight to his soul and he sought to reassure her.

“All you have to do is enjoy the pleasure I want to give you.” He rubbed her leg, moving no more than an inch upward before moving back down, settling her like he would a skittish mare. He didn’t want to spook her any more than she already was.

“I want to touch every inch of your body. I want to uncover your breasts and tease your nipples into hard buds. I want to bury my face between your thighs and feast on your sweet flesh until you scream with pleasure.” Radnor stared into her smoky gray eyes, willing her to agree. “All you have to do is say yes.” He wanted to stake his claim now before Sednar met her. He knew without a doubt that Sednar would put up a fierce fight for her affections. How could he not?

By rights, he should scoop Roxanne into his arms and take her into the keep. She had a bump and a slight gash on her temple. Not life-threatening, but it needed tending.

If he were a decent man, he’d be more concerned with making her comfortable and seeing to her needs instead of wanting to fuck her.

But he’d never claimed to be a decent man. He was a hard man with rough ways.

He’d learned to fight for what he wanted and he wanted Roxanne with a fierce longing that threatened to choke him.

His pulse pounded in his temple as he watched her. She was a miracle and his first inclination was to snatch her away and lock her in the tower room, pleasuring her until she couldn’t even think of leaving him.

He dragged a hand though his hair and huffed out a deep breath. If he did that, he’d be no better than his older brothers had been. He’d be an animal. Old hurts rose to the fore as he remembered his sister and his mother. He’d been unable to protect them as much as he’d wanted. But he could protect Roxanne from anyone who dared to try to hurt her. He could also protect her from himself.

Slowly, he removed his hand from her leg and sat back to give her some space.

Roxanne’s mouth was open and he could see the shock in her eyes. And no wonder.

He’d barely met her and he’d told her in very graphic details what he wanted to do to her. What woman wouldn’t be afraid? Especially one who was already on the run from a man.

He almost growled at the thought of her ex-husband hurting her. Radnor wanted to meet the man who would do such a thing and make him pay for his crimes. Roxanne didn’t know him, didn’t understand that he’d never hurt her. The problem was he had only three days to make her understand, to get her to want to stay.

He stood abruptly and held out his hand. “Come. I will take you inside. You can bathe and have your head injury tended to. Then you will eat and rest before you meet my brother.”

“Brother.” Her word was little more than a whisper. Her eyes grew larger as her face got paler. “Is he about your size with brown hair and two skinny braids framing either side of his face?”

Radnor nodded.

“I really am dreaming.” She sounded more bemused than afraid, for which he was grateful. He hated to do anything to make her fearful, but he couldn’t allow her to go on lying to herself.

“No. You’re not dreaming, Roxanne. The tapestry is magic. It has brought you to the land of Javara. You are not the first woman it has brought to our world. It has been going on for generations. Here, woman are scarce and are treasured. Brothers compete to win the right to marry a woman. Only one brother can marry her and claim her children as his own. The other brothers get one night a week in her bed and vow to take care of her if her husband dies. There are no more than three brothers to a woman.

There is only Sednar and myself. And he will want you as much as I do.”