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some day look upon her with affection as his face reflected feelings other than pain, hurt, and
hatred.
Munching on the fresh vegetables and crusty bread, her eyes caught sight of the well-
endowed brunette making her way to the raised dais. She meticulously stepped up onto the
platform as she balanced the platter of food that she carried. Her eyes glared at Bridgett, and
then she purposefully leaned over Wraith s right shoulder, pressing her lips against his ear. Her
voluptuous bosom nearly fell out of the revealing dress as she leaned her generous breasts
against his upper arm, all the while whispering something very seductively into his ear. A curt
shake of his head signified his complete avoidance to acknowledge her presence. Bridgett could
not be certain what had been exchanged but tried to remain calm at the implications of the lustful
scene.
Time passed and diners began to retreat to their sleeping quarters for sleep, Bridgett
implored Judith to remain at her side until Wraith had retired to his own bedchamber, alone. She
could not be certain, but she had a feeling that Margarete had propositioned the virile leader to
share her body for the evening. The mere thought of Wraith making love to the sensual
Margarete set her teeth on edge. She did not want to envision the two of them wrapped in each
other s embrace while they kissed passionately.
As the legions of men thinned out and the head of the table rose to retire, a cunning
Margarete made her appearance at Wraith s side and hooked her arm around his forearm. Wraith
bade his men-at-arms a good sleep, and Margarete turned her head to give Bridgett a wicked and
victorious smile. Crushed by the enormity of the implications, Bridgett turned to hide her pain
and disgust.
Hurrying towards the rear of the dining hall, she turned to view the final insult as Wraith
and Margarete ascended the stairs together, arm in arm.
Humiliation and pain warred as Bridgett raced up the stairs towards her room. Hot tears
poured uncontrollably down her cheeks as she averted her face from passersby. Judith s
footsteps echoed close behind as she ran to keep up. Yet upon reaching her side, she must have
realized her distress. Bridgett wept silently and wished only to reach the solitude of her bedding.
Quietly, the two slipped between the sleeping females to reach their pallets. Bridgett fairly
collapsed as she lay sobbing quietly while muffling her anguish amidst the blankets. Her sorrow
remained as she silently cried herself to sleep.
Heartless Warrior Donna McAteer 26
Chapter Five
Even as Wraith and Margarete reached the heavy door leading to Wraith s bedchamber,
doubts began to plague his mind. Why he harbored any doubts was a wonder to Wraith, since all
his thoughts had centered on relieving his male yearnings on any willing female. Margarete had
oftentimes been his consenting bed partner, as she was to many of his men. His body was hard
and ready for release, and he could not fathom why he had any contradicting feelings. He would
simply strip off his clothing, have his pleasure, and command her to leave him to his blissful
sleep.
However, as she began to disrobe before him, his eyes conjured up the illusion of
Bridgett s luscious body emerging from the shimmering pond. His thoughts mysteriously
pictured Bridgett s full breasts, flat stomach, and aroused nipples as she exited the chilly waters.
His breathing quickened and his heart thundered in his chest as he shook his head in an effort to
clear his mind. Returning to the present, he noticed an advancing Margarete and his annoyance
surfaced, making him roar.
Leave me at once. His commanding voice left no room for misinterpretation.
But, milord, I thought you would share your bed with me after such a long abstinence?
She cried in frustration.
Leave he repeated. I have no further need of you. His tone was cold and insensitive.
Margarete snatched up her clothing by the armful, not even bothering to cover herself as she
rushed out of the door with a resounding bang.
Wraith was not even sure what had transpired. He only knew that Margarete s presence
in his room had caused him more discomfort than pleasure. Normally, when he returned from a
sojourn, he would find himself in need of immediate release with a desirous female. This time
had proven to be different for some strange reason, and he had been disinclined to commit too
much precious time mulling over the cause.
Margarete was a comely wench with an attractive body that would please any man. She
was slightly taller than most of the castle women, making her a good match for his considerable
size. Her long, brown hair and pretty, blue eyes were a great attraction for the greedy and
oversexed males of the castle. However, for some unexplainable reason, she had lost her appeal
to him and he avoided the one, painfully obvious reason. No matter how he endeavored to
reason it out, it always returned to the one curvaceous female who had dominated his brain since
he first laid eyes upon her.
Maybe if he forced himself on her and satisfied his lust, the fascination would end. This
impulsive reaction sickened him, and he dismissed the notion with quick expediency. He would
let no harm befall Bridgett, either by his hands or anyone else s. He had never had to force
himself on any female, for he was a competent lover, albeit cold in the aftermath. Women
enjoyed his lovemaking because he had a ravenous appetite for the female body, making him
savor his time with each one. He never displayed rough coupling despite his superior size.
Therefore, the females braved his cold countenance, scarred face, and quick dismissal, for their
time in his bed. His honed body seemed only to add to his already inexhaustible virility and
seemingly never-ending arousal. Yet he seemed to desire only one woman at this time, Bridgett.
Heartless Warrior Donna McAteer 27
He was confused, for since his arrival back at Exeter, his disinterest in every voluptuous
beauty he encountered had given him cause for worry. Perhaps Lothar s beating had a more
devastating effect on him than he previously thought. Maybe he was just getting old and tired,
although the notion made him livid, because at twenty and nine he was still in the prime of his
life.
Stripping out of his clothing, he turned towards his comfortably large bed and lay on his
back with his arms folded, supporting his head. He needed to sort through his feelings and
reason this situation out until a logical answer surfaced. What was it about this female that had
him experiencing such different feelings?
Wraith had never shown any real emotions to anyone. He never wanted to experience
emotions at all. Therefore, he had no real basis for comparison in this situation. The closest he
had come to true feelings was the filial affection he felt for Sir Richard de Marten, the man who
had taken him under his wing after the abandonment by his natural father. He had shown no
interest in his own son s progress and had never returned to visit Wraith during his years of
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