The next day dawned cold and crisp. A light snow had fallen during the night, and several inches of powdery white flakes adorned the landscape around the lodge. The sun shone brightly in the clear, cloudless sky, and the bright rays caused the snow to sparkle like diamonds.
Rafe stoked the fire and added several logs to chase the chill from the room. Then, he engaged in a playful morning romp with Eleta that involved much tickling and laughing. The humor eventually gave way to heated kisses and steamy caresses. By the time they had finished cavorting, they were both so content, they were reluctant to leave the haven of their rumpled bed. They eventually did stir themselves to rise, and they shared a leisurely breakfast as they surveyed the glorious view from the bedroom window.
After washing and dressing in warm clothes, they decided to go for a walk in the woods around the lodge. They bundled into their cloaks, boots and gloves and trudged through the snow. There was no sound except the squeaking snow beneath their feet and their companionable chatter. They viewed the world as a magical fairyland, as young lovers are wont to do. They made small figures out of snow, some animal, some more human in shape. They laughed at the antics of a pair of squirrels in a nearby clearing. They took turns calling out to hear their voices echoing from the nearby mountains. As the sun made its daily trip across the sky, they made a large circle through the forest, exploring and laughing.
They came upon an area where the snow had fallen into deep drifts, and it was difficult to walk. Rafe took the lead in order to forge an easier path for Eleta. After taking several steps, he turned to see how she was faring. Eleta lobbed a large snowball, and it hit him square in the face. Rafe stood frozen in stunned surprise for a brief moment before he lunged at her. She scampered away and laughed gaily.
"You little weasel!" he cried. "I'll get you for that!"
He reached down to grab some snow, and she quickly pelted him with another ball on the side of his face. Some of the snow slipped down his neck, and he gave a howl of discomfort. He fixed her with a threatening scowl, and started toward her.
Eleta squealed with glee and threw yet another snowball. Once again, her aim was true as it hit him soundly in the face. Rafe didn't even pause as he charged toward her. Her eyes widened in feigned panic, and she turned to run. Her shorter strides were no match for his, and he grabbed her from behind. He had to brush snow from his face before he could see her, and even so, snow still clung to his brows and lashes. She howled with mirth at the sight of him looking like old man winter.
"So that's how it's going to be, hmmm?" he growled with a grin. "I try to be chivalrous by helping you through the snow, and you pelt me with snowballs until I'm half frozen."
He held her captive in his arms, and she struggled half-heartedly as she continued to laugh.
"I was just trying to cool your ardor," she gasped between giggles. "You were complaining this morning that I was exhausting you, so I thought to cool your lust in the interest of your continued good health."
She looked up at him from over her shoulder with an impish grin. It was obvious that cooling his lust was the furthest thing from her mind. Her eyes were sparkling, and her cheeks were a delightful shade of pink. Their lips were mere inches apart, and she thought for a moment that he intended to kiss her. Instead, his eyes took on a wicked gleam as he easily held her and reached down to grab a handful of snow.
"Maybe you are the one who needs cooling," Rafe growled. "I think a handful of snow down your bodice might just do the trick."
Her eyes opened wide. "Don't!" she squealed, renewing her struggles.
They wrestled playfully, and neither of them was working very hard to win. It was much more fun just wiggling against one another. Finally, she began to tire, and she turned a coquettish pout up to him and fluttered her eyelashes beguilingly.
"Please, Rafe. It would hardly be gentlemanly behavior to put snow down a lady's dress. Most especially when the lady in question happens to be your queen."
Rafe shook his head with a grin. "Ah, so now you want me to treat you as my queen, and not as my lover, hmmm?" His grin deepened. "Alright, your Majesty. Your wish is my command. Upon my honor as a gentleman, I will not put any snow down your dress."
She watched as he removed his right glove with his teeth . He kept his other arm around her waist so she couldn't get away, and he picked up another scoop of snow in his bare hand. He held it for a few moments, and grinned at her as she watched with a puzzled frown. When he eventually dropped the snow, she guessed his intent, and her eyes widened.
"No, Rafe! Don't you dare," she gasped.
He merely gave a naughty chuckle and held up his hand, red from the cold. "Just as I promised, your Majesty. No snow."
He reached inside the neckline of her bodice to cup her naked breast in his icy palm. She let out a screech that echoed off the surrounding hills and struggled for all she was worth.
"Rafe, you beast!" Eleta cried. "You are no gentleman!"
Rafe squeezed her tighter in his arms, and continued to fondle her breast. As she cried out from the shock of his cold fingers against her flesh, he nuzzled her neck with heated breath, spreading hot kisses beneath her ear and nibbling her earlobe.
"Do you really want me to be a gentleman, Eleta?" he asked with a husky growl.
Eleta was beginning to become accustomed to the chill, and she rather liked what he was doing. She leaned back against him and thrust her breast more fully into his palm. They were both grinning as their eyes met and held.
"No, Rafe. I love that you are a beast!"
He chuckled wickedly and gave her nipple one final tweak. Then, he released her and gave her bottom a swat as she stepped out of his arms. The flirtatious glance she shot him made him laugh even more.
By the time they returned to the lodge, it was early evening. They shared a hot bath to chase away the chill. It was only natural to linger in the tub, and one thing very naturally led to another. Soft sighs and masculine groans filled the air along with lazy tendrils of steam. They reluctantly left the bath only when the water began to chill, having thoroughly made use of the facilities.
They dressed once more and went in search of food to satisfy a different sort of hunger. They found a savory venison stew and heated it in the kitchen. Then they carried steaming bowls of it, along with a small loaf of bread and a bottle of wine up to their bedroom. Once again, Rafe stoked the fire, and they ate on the plush rug before the hearth.
When their appetites had been sated, Rafe stretched out and propped his head on one elbow as he studied her. The fire cast a golden glow in her black hair, and he thought she looked almost angelic as she sat staring into the flickering flames. He couldn't resist the urge to stroke his fingers through the long, silken tresses. They flowed like rippling waves through his hands, and he felt himself becoming more and more aroused.
He took in the rest of her appearance, and his eyes began to smolder with passion. She had donned a peasant style dress after their bath. The bodice was tightly fitted black velvet, laced up the front and tied beneath her breasts. There was a blouse underneath of white silk that covered her bosom, and that too was tied with a ribbon. The blouse had a low, scooped neckline that barely came up over her breasts, and the sleeves were designed to hang off the shoulders. Only the tightly laced bodice kept the dress from slipping off entirely, and her breasts appeared as if they were being pressed upward and presented on a platter for his viewing pleasure. The silk of her blouse was not entirely sheer, but it was thin enough that even though she also wore a chemise underneath, he could clearly see the outline of her pert nipples.
God, he wanted her again! This feeling of constant yearning was unsettling. He couldn't seem to think about anything other than making love with her. And yet, he wanted more than just a physical bond with her. He wanted to know her as a whole person. He had already realized that he was falling in love with her, and he longed to know more about her. He cleared his throat and forced his thoughts onto a more platonic path.
"You are very confident as queen, especially for your age. How old were you when you assumed the throne?" he asked quietly.
Eleta grimaced briefly, but he saw the fleeting expression. "I was twelve."
"I didn't realize you were that young," he murmured in surprise.
Eleta merely nodded, her far away gaze fixed on the leaping flames. "My mother contracted a fever and died suddenly. My father, the king, had the same illness. He lived only four more days. I think, sometimes, that he died of a broken heart. He loved my mother very much, and I think he simply lost his will to live once she was gone."
Rafe had to swallow hard before answering. That kind of love was what he had always yearned for. "I'm sorry, Eleta. It must have been very hard for you."
Eleta didn't answer immediately, and he knew she was lost in thought. She remembered how forlorn she had felt, losing both parents within days of one another. She didn't even have a chance to grieve properly. She had immediately had to assume her responsibilities as queen. It had only been a few weeks after their deaths when her training had begun. Her childhood had essentially ended with the death of her parents. Having lost them, she had channeled all her love toward her country and her people. That was why it was so important for her to succeed in fulfilling the prophecy, even though she now knew that success would bring her agonizing heart break.
Rafe watched as a variety of emotions showed on Eleta's face. Once again, he thought that she could never be a very good liar. Her features were simply too expressive. The overriding emotion at the moment was sadness, and he regretted bringing up the topic.
"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to make you revisit sad memories."
Eleta gave him a wistful smile. She didn't want to think about the future or the past. She simply wanted to be in the moment with the man she loved. She forced an even brighter smile and met his eye.
"It's alright, Rafe. It was a long time ago." She stroked his arm and sighed.
"What is the hardest part of being the queen?" he asked.
"Hmmm," she mused. She couldn't tell him the truth, so she searched for something else. "I suppose the hardest thing is knowing that the welfare of so many is dependent on my actions. It weighs on me sometimes. I often wish I were just like any other woman, free to live my life and not have others constantly looking to me for guidance or approval."
She stretched out on her stomach and propped on her elbows to face him. She wasn't consciously trying to seduce him. However, the position almost made her breasts spill free from the low cut blouse. It was all Rafe could do to keep from staring at the mouth watering view.
"What about you, Rafe? You've been the Duke of Argyle for over ten years now. What is the hardest thing about holding the title?"
For once, Rafe appeared momentarily uncomfortable, and his eyes shifted to the fire. He was silent for so long that she thought he might not answer. Finally he released a long sigh and met her gaze once more.
"The hardest thing is never knowing how people really feel about me. Because of my title and the wealth and power that go along with it, there are many who try to ingratiate themselves with me. I have found it hard to trust anyone."
