Porthleven, England

Summer 1064 A.D.

The Passion

          The carriage came to a halt on the side of the dirt road. Lady Brynna Dumont peeked her head out of the small, curtained window to see why her troupe had stopped. Her hand, holding back the velvet curtain, was delicate. Her skin was smooth and white against the bright red of the lush fabric.

          “Derrick, why have we stopped?”

          “There’s a fallen tree up ahead, m’lady. We must move it before we can continue. It will be a while, I’m afraid.”

          Frowning at the delay, but willing to make the most of such a magnificent day, Brynna flung open the carriage door, eager to explore her surroundings. Layers of blue linen cascaded over a dainty slipper before she stepped out onto the forest floor. Her eyes, as green as the leaves that sang in the soft breeze, scanned the surrounding woods dense with summer growth. She breathed in the fresh scent of morning dew just as Sir Nathan rode past her on his snorting black destrier. 

          “Get back inside the carriage,” he commanded, swinging his mount around to face her. “It could be dangerous out here.”

          Brynna narrowed her eyes on the permanently furious face of her uncle Robert’s most trusted guard. Sir Nathan sat tall and menacing in the saddle, the glint in his hard gaze attesting to the fact that he ached to take her over his knee and whip her into dutiful submission. She huffed at him just thinking of it. Never.

          “I will be fine, Sir Nathan.” She offered him a cheeky smile. “Just see to the tree. I’m anxious to return home to my father.” 

          She felt his smoldering eyes on her back as she walked away, but she ignored him and tilted her face to the canopy of leaves above her. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Lovely, she thought as a slight breeze kissed her cheeks and sent a silky wisp of copper hair across her face. She swept the lock back with one long, elegant finger and cast a quick glance over her shoulder at Nathan. He was busy barking orders to his men. Brynna’s feet were light, and no one watched her as she slipped through the trees.

          Brynna strolled through the forest, ducking around the ancient branches and pushing at vines that clung to her gown.  Somewhere behind her, she could hear Sir Nathan still bellowing orders on the proper way to hoist a fallen tree from the road. Happy to be out of his sight, she began to hum. The cantankerous knight had been in her uncle Robert’s service since God spoke the first words of creation. Sir Nathan was highly respected, even by her father, but that hadn’t stopped Brynna from arguing with him at every opportunity. Of course, she wasn’t the one who picked the fights. Nathan was a crusty old soldier who didn’t believe ladies should ride horses, wear boots, or speak until spoken to. She was still undecided if the summer spent arguing with her uncle’s commander had been ghastly, or exhilarating. The daughter of Lord Richard Dumont, mightiest warrior in England, loved a good fight, same as her father.

          None of it mattered now. She was finally going back home to her father and she couldn’t wait. Well, she corrected herself, she could wait a little while longer just to enjoy this splendid day.

          Nathan’s harsh voice pursued Brynna through the trees and into a small glen, where it finally blended with the call of blue jays overhead. Carpeted with yellow jasmine and blue linseed, the splendor of the meadow washed over her.  Brynna smiled and lifted her skirts to run through the luxuriant field.  She dropped to her knees beneath the shade of an old willow tree and then lay down in the tall grass, delighting in the delicate yellow and blue petals that tickled her cheeks.

          An odd sound captured her attention. At first she thought she was dreaming. She sat up and looked around. She was alone in the glen. The beguiling laughter drifted across the fragrant air and, like a siren’s song, drew her toward a large cluster of currant bushes. The man’s laughter was so wonderfully inviting. It was most definitely a man’s voice, for the tones were husky and rich. But unlike the gravelly pitch of the men’s voices in her uncle Robert’s garrison, this voice was not rough to her ears.

          Kneeling before the dense bushes with bated breath, Brynna parted the branches.

          It was definitely a man. He floated on his back, just a few feet away, in a lagoon painted with sunshine and discarded dogwood blossoms. The sight of his naked body made Brynna’s cheeks burn and her lips part. Golden columns of light glistened off the corded muscles that sculpted his chest and upper arms. Dipping his head backward, he gathered a mouthful of water, then shot it from his lips like a fountain.

          Brynna sighed looking at the scene before her. All around the small pool pink and white dogwood trees, which shed their dainty blossoms at the slightest breeze, grew. Like snowflakes in summer, hundreds of tiny petals drifted through the air, many coming to rest upon the water, covering its surface. And there, in the middle of paradise, was the most breathtaking man Brynna had ever seen. Though he swam alone in the lagoon, he played as though others were enjoying the day with him. He dived deep into the crystal blue ripples, entering a world known only to him. Down he went like a sun-kissed fish, deeper and deeper into his private world.

          Moments stretched as Brynna watched the sun-dappled surface for any sign of him. Alarmed, she stood up, surrendering her hiding place amid the foliage. She wanted to jump in, but hesitated, since she didn’t know how to swim. He suddenly burst through the surface with a thunderous splash of jet-black curls and diamond-crystal droplets. He rocketed out of the water until Brynna saw his whipcord tight belly... and beyond.  With a swift turn of his body, he vanished again, only to come back up.

          Brynna felt that she was watching a merman. Mayhap, beneath the water snaked a great, scaled tail, powerful and iridescent.

     Indeed, he looked happier in his aqua playground than any human had the right to be. Joy filled his face; his smile was ecstatic, heating Brynna’s skin, her muscles, her blood.  Never had she seen such erotic, intoxicating pleasure in a man’s face. The water was his lover, kissing every part of his body at once; he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the sheer delight that consumed him. When he opened them again, he lifted his face to the sun.

          Heart stilled, Brynna gaped at the color of his eyes gazing into the heavens.  Eyes that absorbed the rich blues of the sky while reflecting the depthless green of the sea. She wanted to stay there forever and watch him caught in his private fantasy.

          The sound of a horse approaching from the opposite end of the lagoon startled Brynna out of her delicious reverie. She snapped her head in the direction of the intruder.

          A woman seated atop a white gelding appeared out of the trees, a dream coming to life. Pale blond hair fell in silky splendor down her back, reaching her saddle. Her face was beautiful, her form as delicate as the sprouts freshly sprung from the grass that grew around the lagoon.

          When he saw her, the man in the water smiled. “Colette, you’re late,” he called out.

          “I’m surprised you noticed.” The beauty threw him a teasing smile that did not reach her eyes before she dismounted and tied her horse to a nearby tree.

          Brynna gasped when the woman slipped her cotton gown off her shoulders. The dress tumbled to the earth as if an angel had shed its wings. And all the while the swimmer watched her, gliding toward her so effortlessly not a single ripple wavered around him.

          Oh, Lord, what should I do?  Brynna beseeched. She could tell by the raw hunger in the man’s voice that the couple was not just going to swim together. How could she escape now without being discovered? Would she have to watch? Oddly enough, the thought both intrigued and troubled her. She wanted to dream that she had discovered this merman, that he was hers alone. She could swim with him, travel to his world below the surface, and share the ecstasy that impassioned him.

          “Is it cold?”

          “I’ll warm you,” the merman promised silkily. His voice was the softest breeze on a sweltering day, lulling in its gentleness, calming Brynna’s anxious heart. 

           The girl stepped over her clothes with grace that made Brynna feel like a towering oaf, and made her way, naked, to the edge of the lake.

           He swam toward her. And then to Brynna’s shock and mortified delight, he stepped out of the lake. Water cascaded down his glistening back, over hard, round buttocks, down muscular thighs and strong calves. He wasn’t a merman after all, Brynna thought, biting her lower lip. Taking his lover’s hands, he walked backward into the water, gently pulling her along. She protested, gasping when the cold water licked her feet, but he laughed merrily and pulled her in deeper. When the water reached his waist, he let himself go, falling backward into his liquid lover’s embrace while holding the woman in his arms, keeping her barely afloat on top of him.

          Brynna wanted to turn away, to run, but she couldn’t. She had fallen under a spell, enchanted by the sound of his laughter, the hungry way his fingers stroked the wet body resting on his chest.

         He disappeared beneath the surface, releasing his lover. She followed, and Brynna waited, counting seconds in her mind.  It was too long. They should have come up. Brynna waited, anxious to see his face again.

         An instant passed, and then another, drawing on Brynna’s nerves until she could barely stand it, and then the surface broke and the couple exploded upward like a geyser. The man held his lover’s waist, bringing her up first. The woman’s mouth was open, sucking in a life-giving breath, as though it were her last. Held closely in the masculine strength of his arms, she smiled as she slipped down his body.

        Brynna could see the passion in his face. Oh, she could see it, so intense it vibrated and rippled outward like the water around them. His lips curled into a wide, hungry grin that reached his eyes as he drank in the woman’s face.

        “I love you.” 

        The words were clear to read upon his lips, to see in his eyes. Brynna groaned softly, wishing they were being said to her.

        He kissed his lover’s neck, blazing a fiery trail to her breasts.

        Brynna stopped breathing.

        He disappeared again under the water and the maiden threw her head back as her lover had done before, alone in the water, in euphoric ecstasy.

       Biting her lip, Brynna tried to imagine what he was doing to the beauty under the surface that caused her to gasp and groan, and then cry out.

       He surfaced again, this time behind his flaxen-haired lady. He wrapped his arms around her chest and whispered into her ear—words that made her smile as radiantly as the sun itself. Then he lifted her slightly onto him and lowered her again.

       Thankfully, Brynna caught the groan before it could escape her lips. But the fire he had ignited in her couldn’t be quenched, and she knew she would never forget it.