Page 39 of Loving The Warrior

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“You most certainly will.” Kane said between breaths.

* * *

When they met in the study the next morning, it was almost as if nothing had happened a few hours prior. Heath settled into his studies, but there was a difference, a charge in the air. It didn’t escape his notice that Kane kept glancing his way with a predatory stare. Heath spent the morning with his erection straining against his trousers. There was little doubt that they both wanted more than what they had shared last night.

That aside, Heath had made significant strides in his studies. His reading and writing had greatly improved to the point he enjoyed reading, something he never thought possible. While they did a geography lesson, Heath told Kane about the places he had visited during his time in the military.

“Do you miss it?” Kane asked.

“Miss what?”

“The Navy.”

“Sometimes. I miss the camaraderie, being with my fellow soldiers, putting in a hard day's work. I do miss being on a ship.”

“The ocean isn’t that far away. Perhaps you could go sailing.”

Heath glanced at Kane. “Have you ever been sailing?”

“No.”

“Would you go with me?”

A cocky smile spread across Kane’s mouth. “Any time, but you’d have to show me what to do.”

“I’d be the teacher then.”

“I don’t profess to know everything.”

They chuckled, happy for the light banter. Being with Kane felt natural. The anxiety he normally had was gone. There was no need for pretense anymore. Kane knew his deepest secrets and fears, so there was nothing to hide. It was an exhilarating sensation.

Morning turned into afternoon. Clouds rolled in, and with them, the dull throbbing in Heath’s bad leg intensified. The confounded thing was a barometer, and an annoying one at that.

“I think it’s time for a break,” Kane declared. “Do you want to walk to the brewery and see how the repairs are coming along?”

While they’d awaited the return of Mr. Hayes from London with the new machinery, Heath had hired local craftsmen to begin general repairs on the brewery and outer buildings.

The thought of walking on his sore leg wasn’t Heath’s idea of an idyllic afternoon.

“I’m sorry, but my leg is not up for the trek.” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

“That’s fine,” Kane replied. “We can ride out, if you want.”

Something in Heath snapped, some pent up frustration. He cursed. “I’m not good for much with this excuse for a leg.” He limped over to the sideboard, his cane forgotten in his sudden anger. For some reason, it upset Heath that he couldn’t do something simple like go walking with Kane. He wanted to feel the sun on his face as they strolled through the fields, their fingers perhaps caressing as they shared an intimate moment. “I can’t walk properly, I can’t dance. What good am I?”

Kane came up to him, turning him, so they faced each other. “You are good for a great many things.” He wrapped his arms around Heath’s waist. Some of his anger dissipated with the tender gesture. “You can’t be so hard on yourself. Look on the bright side. If you hadn’t inherited this title, you would be far worse off trying to make a living as a farmer with that leg.”

That was true. It would have been near impossible to do all the labor required with his injury.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Kane put a finger under Heath’s chin, tilting his head up. “But, if memory serves me correctly, I recall a certain gentleman working the tiller the other day.”

Heath smiled at Kane’s sweet way of reminding him he wasn’t completely useless.

“And I must say, he looked quite handsome with those muscular arms holding the reins, sweat dripping down his body, looking like a Greek god.”

Now his cock was screaming for release.


Tags: Laura Shipley Historical