Simple Missteps
Chapter Five
Lillian K. Rockmore

It was a time out of time -- their time, even with the prospect of Tiara's parents arriving to claim her soon. They were creating a special bond, not that of captive and captor, not even that of nightly lovers, but the union of friendship. Tiara had revealed all and told him the reason behind her appearance at his castle; of how she had run away from home to escape an unwanted betrothal, only to find herself kidnapped by hooded riders. Scott told her about his family's history, and how his brother had gambled away most of what their father had left for them. They talked to one another of wishes, of dreams, of childhood memories and hopes and fears that they would have told no other soul.

And yet, even with this new and comfortable closeness, neither spoke of love or of a future together. It seemed to be a forbidden subject for both parties. Tiara chose to forget that she was three weeks late in her monthlies, and Scott chose to dismiss the fact that one day, her parents would come knocking on his door and he would have to give her up. Both of them knew how fragile the ice of their time was and tried desperately not to step too hard and break it.

It was a balmy afternoon. They were sitting in the shade of a big old oak tree, Tiara cocooned in the cradle of Scott's legs. It had become a habit of theirs -- to sit in the shade and talk. They could've talked till sundown with none the wiser of the passing time.

But today, Tiara was feeling a little edgy. She had something to ask him, a penchant that she'd been keeping from him for the past few weeks. But whenever the words came to her mouth, he would say or do something to distract her and she would become deliciously distracted. Today, however, she was resolute in telling him what she wanted.

His fingers were threaded with hers, his sun-bronzed skin so dark against her own. She knew she had gotten an unbecoming tan from frolicking in the fields with Rufus, the stray grey hound that roamed the castle, but that didn't seem to matter to Scott, so that didn't matter to her either.

His breath tickled the small shell of her ear as he spoke – telling her of his time in the Army, she knew. She had always been fascinated by men who risked their lives for their country. And she always loved the tales that he told her about the different generals and lieutenants and their uncanny jokes.

Her back was against his chest, and she knew her bottom cuddled his flaccid length. She had seen him many times over the past month, aroused and disbelievingly thick. He was really a sight to behold when stirred, with his shaft jutting out like a stiff spear. Ah, she remembered the night before, when he