The men nodded and began to reverse the process, removing the stones one at a time. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they uncovered the rug and cut the rope off before unwrapping it. The body rolled out, its limbs flopping as if boneless.
Shea knew even before they checked the pulse Cale had drawn his last breath.
“He’s dead, my lord.”
Fallon nodded. “Bury him in the rug. He is no longer Trateri and will not be released from this world in our way.”
The same two men gave him respectful nods and reached for the shovels lying next to the rugs.
One by one the onlookers drifted back down the hill, leaving only Fallon, his two friends and Shea behind to watch.
“Caden can give you a ride back to our tent,” Fallon told her.
Her arms tightened, and she didn’t hesitate. “I’ll remain.” The ‘with you’ was added silently.
Together they waited as the men completed their task, one shovel full of dirt at a time. Finally, the body was buried and Caden, Darius and the other two departed.
Fallon dismounted and approached the grave. He knelt and bent his head, touching the freshly turned dirt before him.
His goodbyes, if he said any, were silent. After a long moment he stood, grief etched in the way he held his body. Shea knew that had it been any but her there in that moment he would have kept even that hidden.
The sorrow made him seem more like a man, with a man’s emotions, instead of the lofty warlord that all held in high esteem.
Shea’s heart hurt for him even as she rejoiced that the danger Cale presented to the Highlands was ended. There were still the maps to consider, but the immediate threat had been eliminated. All that held her tied to the Trateri now were her own attachments.
Fallon mounted and they rode back to camp in silence. Once they reached Fallon’s tent, he helped her dismount before saying, “There should be a bath ready for you inside. I have a few things to take care of before I join you for the night.”
He was gone before Shea could respond. She was left addressing thin air as he walked away.
She shut her mouth with a click and glanced at the two men standing guard on either side of the entrance.
Back to reality.
Shea sighed and headed inside. The inevitable confrontation she knew was coming would be easier once she was clean and fed.
The warm water beckoned. Shea stripped.
She caught her breath as her arm twinged when she tried to raise it above her head, the skin pulling uncomfortably. It was painful getting her shirt off and the same with her pants.
Only when she was standing naked in front of the tub full of warm water, steam wafting off it, did she realize there was a problem. There was no way she could submerge her arm and leg. Not with the depth of the cuts. The one on her arm would probably be fine. It was shallow enough that it would sting like acid was being poured into it, but the wound on her leg was deep and would probably need stitches.
She settled for stepping inside and scooping the water up to let it slide down her skin. Grabbing a sponge lying next to the tub on a stool, she soaped it up and then lathered it on, wiping away the dirt and blood before rinsing it off.
Once clean, she grabbed one of the fluffy white towels that had been left on another stool and dried off before dressing again.
Fallon walked in just as she was sitting down to eat the food that had been laid out for them. She paused in the act of filling her plate.
He came directly to her, advancing into her space and leaning down. He cupped her head in one hand, threading his fingers in her hair, bending her face back and taking her lips in a kiss that set flame to her senses.
He poured all of the stress, heartache and fury of the past day into that kiss until it fairly singed her lips.
Her hands dropped what they were holding and came up to grab his shirt and pull him down hard, meeting his intensity with her own.
The kiss built and built until the firestorm of passion boiled over and they were clutching at each other. He picked her up and set her on the table, stepping forward and parting her legs with his hips. Almost feverishly he grasped her shirt and eased it over her head, being careful of her wound. She let him, before doing the same to his.
Her pants followed and suddenly his lips were trailing down her neck to pause and nip at the skin on her breasts. They continued their journey, pausing to explore the dip of her stomach until finding their destination at her center.
She cried out and arched as he settled down to play, licking and nipping with a single minded purpose.
“Fallon, please,” she begged.
He ignored her, sucking hard. Just as her body clenched preparing for the avalanche of a climax, he stood, taking away the sensation and leaving her panting with need.
“Damn it,” she swore.
He chuckled and pulled her up, sealing her lips with his. She could taste herself on him before he cupped her bottom and guided his cock to her entrance.
Slowly, unbearably slowly, he sank in. Shea dug her nails into his back and tried to urge him faster.
He grabbed her arms, being careful of her wound. “I set the pace. Not you.”
“You’re going to kill me,” she told him.
The change in pace from fast and urgent to slow and unhurried was driving her mad.
“What a sweet death it would be,” he teased.
She gave a small scream and struggled to move, trying to fuck herself on him. He pinned her, tilting her back and making it impossible to move without risking falling.
She stilled and looked up at him. He looked back, tenderly, fiercely, with just a hint of wicked playfulness behind it all.
He was enjoying this. He was enjoying sending her into a frothing fury of need. The bastard.
Only when he was sure she knew just who was master in this moment, did he begin to move. At first slow thrusts that had her gasping for air. After only a couple, he adjusted his angle until he began bumping a spot inside her that sent every muscle in her body clenching with need.
Her orgasm built quickly as he repeated the thrust, sending her higher and higher. The walls of her clamping down tight until finally, finally he shoved her off the cliff into a mind melding, dizzying climax.
She moaned as her body clenched around his and sparks of pleasure raced up and down her nerve endings. With a low groan he followed her.
When it was over and they were both panting, he released her hands and lowered her fully onto the table, coming down to kneel in front of her and resting his head on her stomach. Shea touched his hair, running her fingers through it as they caught their breath.
She stared up at the canvas, her mind lost in itself, thinking of nothing in particular.
“When Cale made his accusation against you, before my man gave me the maps, you thought I believed him,” Fallon finally broke the silence.
It was unexpected after what they just shared. Enough so that Shea stiffened and would have sat up if his arms hadn’t suddenly tightened around her waist.
She forced herself to relax.
“I thought it was a possibility,” she admitted. “He was your brother. It would have been natural to believe him over a woman you haven’t known for very long.”
He lifted his head, peering at her disbelievingly. “You will have to get over this habit of believing the worst of me and all those around you. It is insulting and unbecoming.”
“What?” she sputtered. “It’s happened before. People naturally side with their own.”