The Long War 03 - The Red Prince Read Online Free Page B

his head. ‘Are we seriously considering this?’
    She gazed out to sea. ‘We have little else to do. The ship can sail without us.’
    They locked eyes. The young squire was taller than the Gorlan and his shoulders, broad and muscled from months of activity, made Ruth appear rather petite. She had a vulnerability in her eyes that disconcerted him, a low gaze from green pupils and dark irises.
    ‘We would enjoy each other,’ purred Ruth, causing him to shiver with involuntary arousal.
    ‘Stop it,’ he said.
    ‘No.’ She stepped closer to him until they were virtually touching.
    ‘Please,’ he murmured with little confidence.
    Ruth lowered her head and looked Randall up and down. Her eyes moved slowly, making him even more uncomfortable. She paused for a second, looking at his chest, before returning her gaze to his eyes. It was a deeply sensual look, loaded with hidden meanings. Randall understood his rapid breathing, his sudden arousal and his nervousness, but he didn’t understand seduction.
    She gently ran her fingertips along his forearm and lightly cradled his hand. ‘Do you still want me to stop?’ she asked, a gust of wind catching her hair.
    ‘I... I don’t know,’ he stuttered in reply.
    * * *
    It was a strange hour, spent largely naked and filled with constant apologizing from the virginal squire. Sex seemed to be a matter of not trapping your hair, skin, legs, hands and private parts in a manner that caused pain. When this was accomplished, the melding of flesh was a deeper and more fulfilling experience than Randall would have thought possible. He fell in love a little as Ruth, straddling him, rose in apparent ecstasy and caused her new lover to become utterly lost in sensation. He couldn’t see beyond her skin, the smooth and dusky flesh that swayed on top of him. He didn’t think about her true nature; it was further away than the gentle rippling of the water or the surge of the sails.
    The sex ended quickly, but the naked sprawling on the floor of the small cabin lasted nearly an hour. Ruth had pulled down two unused hammocks to act as a blanket and they had been quiet enough not to disturb the sailors. Utha, still seasick in the next cabin, had been silent, probably asleep, and the two naked, sweaty bodies that adorned the wooden floor were undisturbed.
    ‘You have much to give a lover, Randall of Darkwald,’ purred Ruth. Her dark hair was wild and wavy, spread across her naked back. Their bodies glistened.
    ‘Do you mean other than you?’ he replied, still breathing heavily.
    She leant on her hand and ran a finger down his chest. ‘It would seem selfish to keep your talents to myself.’
    She kissed him and Randall lost himself again. He felt naive, young, stupid and, for the first time in weeks, out of his depth. He had found it easier to deal with swords, blood and death than with a woman and sex. Even in the warm afterglow he was wide-eyed and light-headed, not fully trusting himself to speak without sounding like an idiot.
    Ruth craned herself over him, looking down into his eyes as he lay on the white linen hammock. ‘Even now you can’t relax,’ she said plainly.
    ‘Especially now,’ he replied.
    ‘We have nothing to do at this moment, no commitments or responsibilities. The Ghost is occupied, the sailors are sailing. We are alone.’
    She kissed him again. This time it lingered. Her lips parted gently and he closed his eyes, letting the sensation ripple through his body. They remained there for what seemed like days.
    * * *
    Utha the Ghost dreamt. When he wasn’t awake and vomiting, murmuring quiet insults to the waves, he was lost in his own mind. When Ruth had touched his mind in the Fell, she had awoken something within him. Now, his sleeping hours were filled with visions and dreams of obscure places and bizarre beings for which he didn’t have names. Creatures lived and died in worlds of imagination and realms of fantasy.
    He believed that he saw the halls beyond the