A Knight of Honor (19 page)

A look of comprehension cleared his face of doubt.
 
He released the reins of her horse, nodding as if he had finally figured her out.

Taylor waited until he moved past her, spurring his horse down the road.
 
Yes, she thought.
 
We were paid well.
 
With a palm reading, the only payment the poor gypsy woman could afford.
 
And that had been just fine.
 
It was enough just to get a child out of Hugh’s horrendous clutches.
 
But Slane didn’t need to know that.

***

Slane dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to a stable boy.
 
The boy beamed him a smile and led the horses away.
 
Slane turned his gaze to Taylor, who stood in the doorway of the stables, her gaze pinned on something across the street.
 
She had refused to even look at him after galloping into town ahead of him.
 
But he hadn’t refused to look at her.
 
No, far from it.

She stood straight and proud, her long black hair hanging in a thick braid down her back.
 
He had watched her that morning when they were still at the inn, trailing her fingers through it, twisting it and entwining it with the same easy grace of the ladies of the castle plaiting their hair.

He shook his head and tore his gaze from her.
 
He would never understand how she could be a mercenary.
 
To take money for saving a little girl from the likes of Hugh!
 
He felt a twinge of disappointment and wasn’t exactly sure why.
 
He had no reason to expect anything more from her.

Slane moved out of the stables to stand at her side.
 
For a moment, just a moment, he felt a strange quickening of his pulse as his gaze trailed over her smooth cheekbone to the curve of her full lips.
 
Then she turned to look at him.

Everything stopped in that instant.
 
Those green eyes peered into his soul, searching the very depths of his being.
 
They reached deep and pulled forth something warm and tender that he didn’t know dwelled within him.
 
The feeling surrounded him like the heat from a gently flaming hearth.

He quickly shifted his gaze away.
 
He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until he let it all out in a quiet rush.
 
He blinked for a moment, unsure of what had just happened.
 
Uneasy, he handed her the robe he had bought from a merchant in Sudbury.
 
“Put this on,” he instructed and headed toward the heart of town.

In a moment, she was at his side, and when he glanced down, he was happy to see that the hem of the brown robe swished around her booted feet.
 
It was a little too big on her, but it would do for now as a disguise.
 
Corydon knew who she was.
 
With her face concealed by the robe’s hood, she would at least have a chance to hide from probing eyes.

She hadn’t even questioned him, Slane realized with a smile.
 
Was there an understanding forming between them?
 
He felt a moment of jubilation...
 
until he saw a large garrison of soldiers heading in their direction.
 
Slane recognized them immediately and faltered.
 
Their black tunics announced their allegiance: Corydon’s men.

He took a step backward and turned, only to see another, smaller group of black-clad knights heading down the street.

Taylor jerked forward, but Slane caught her wrist and pulled her into the shadows of a nearby doorway.

Slane glanced furtively up and down the street and was dismayed to see that the street was suddenly devoid of the usual assortment of peasants and other marketplace patrons.
 
If they stepped out into the street now, they would surely be seen.

He heard the handle of the door behind them rattle and glanced down to see Taylor’s hand on it.
 
But it wouldn’t budge even under her insistent shaking.

Slane glanced down the street.
 
The soldiers were coming closer.
 
There were so many of them.
 
If they fought now, it would only mean Slane’s death and Taylor’s capture.

“Stand here,” Taylor instructed, pulling him in front of her like a shield.

At least that would protect her, Slane thought.

But suddenly, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
 
Slane would have tumbled backward, had he not braced himself by splaying his hands on the sides of the doorway.
 
He opened his mouth to reprimand her, but she quickly pressed her lips, and her body, against his.

Stunned into immobility, Slane gaped as she slid her lips across his, as she pressed her tiny body to his quickly hardening one.
 
He jerked and tried to pull away, but her embrace held him tightly to her chest.

Slane managed to slide his lips off of hers and exclaim, “What in God’s blood are you doing, woman?
 
Have you lost your senses?”

“Unless you want to lose more than your senses, you’ll return my affection and make it good,” she warned in a whisper, nibbling his ear.

Jolts of pleasure shot through Slane’s body.
 
His mind told him to resist her, but his body was already succumbing to her seduction.
 
Then his quickly fogging mind focused enough to realize what she was doing.
 
A desperate disguise: a harlot and her customer.

She slid her mouth across his jaw and pressed her lips against his again, running her hands through his hair, clinging to him as if his lips were the only thing that could save her.
 
Slane wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, wanting to reassure her.
 
He knew it had to look convincing or they were done for.

He ran his tongue lightly across her lips, coaxing her to open to him.
 
He felt her quiver beneath him as she parted her lips.
 
She was either a very talented actress or...

Distantly, Slane heard footsteps march closer in the street, and he pulled her tighter against him.
 
He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth.
 
A soft groan escaped her parted lips.
 
A groan that sent his world tumbling end over end.

The curves of her body fit snugly against the ridges in his; her full breasts pressed heavily against the battle-hewn muscles in his chest.
 
Tingles followed the trail her fingers left along his skin; prickles of heat inflamed his soul.
 
The essence of her seemed to take on solid form, enclosing him in a swirling cloak of passion.
 
He no longer heard the footsteps in the streets, no longer cared if they were caught; he only wanted this moment to go on forever.

Then a man cleared his throat behind Slane.
 
Even as Taylor’s kiss warmed his body, the threat of danger pierced the moment like a dagger.
 
He almost reached for his sword.

Taylor’s hands moved over his waist and down to his buttocks.
 
He battled with control as she gently squeezed, running her hands over the firm rounded portion.

He pulled back slightly to gaze deeply into the green pools of her eyes.
 
What did she want of him?
 
Did she truly do this for disguise?
 
Or did she dare to challenge him so blatantly?
 
He ran his fingers through the long locks of her glorious hair, loosening it from that accursed braid.
 
He almost growled with the passion she had aroused within him.
 
Then he claimed her lips again with a fierce painful lashing.
 
If she were toying with him, he would teach her what it was like to enrage his lust so powerfully.

She matched his kiss, his intense need with a longing of her own.
 
He felt her tremble beneath the onslaught of his kiss.
 
He wanted her as he had never wanted anything in his life.
 
He wanted to see what her body looked like beneath the leather armor she wore.
 
He wanted to kiss her breasts and her stomach and...

Suddenly, she tore away from him.
 
Slane stared at her for a long moment, trying desperately to regain control of his heated body.
 
She stood before him like a vanquishing hero, her chin raised, her eyes glittering with --

With what?
 
Was that passion in her eyes?
 
Or was it mockery?

Slane felt a chill seep through his clothes to his heated skin as the cold reality of what had just happened set in.
 
What had he been doing?
 
What had he been thinking?

“You made it good,” she said.
 
“Damn good.
 
Very convincing.
 
Even to me.
 
But the soldiers are gone.”

And indeed, they were gone.
 
Long gone.
 
The streets were empty.

He stood stoically for a long moment.
 
Could she really have been acting?
 
Could that kiss have meant nothing to her when it had enflamed him so?
 
“Yes, they are,” he said awkwardly.
 
He stepped away from her into the street.
 
He had been wrong to kiss her so passionately, to want her like that.
 
He was betrothed, for the love of God!

“Don’t worry, Slane,” Taylor said, patting his back.
 
“I won’t tell anyone you liked it.”

Slane whirled on her, a fierce rage consuming him.
 
“We will not speak of this again!” he shouted.
 
“I did what I had to do, but that’s all there was to it.”

For a moment, Taylor stood with her mouth open, her eyes wide.
 
Then she brushed past him, but tripped over the long hem of her robe.
 
Angrily, she bent, grabbed the hem, and slid the robe up and over her head, taking it off.
 
She carefully folded it and held it out to him.
 
When he reached for it, she dropped it in the dirt and dust of the street at his feet.

Taylor turned her back on him and walked quickly down the road.

Slowly, Slane bent down and picked up the robe.
 
The lavender smell of her seemed to permeate the fabric.
 
He brought the robe to his face and filled his lungs with the essence of Taylor Sullivan.

***

Taylor couldn’t even look at Slane.
 
Her anger and hurt were too fresh.
 
She couldn’t bury them that easily.

Because of Corydon’s soldiers in Edinbrook, Slane had decided it would be safer if they slept in the woods.
 
She had slept restlessly on the hard, cold ground of the forest.

But it wasn’t because of the natural elements, the rocks jabbing at her back, the shrill wind, the unsettling cries of strange animals, and Taylor knew it.
 
His fierce reaction to her feeble attempt at communication after the kiss had wounded her deeply.
 
She hadn’t expected the passion that had ignited her body at his touch, his kiss.
 
And before she even had a chance to understand it he had rejected her, humiliating her.

She still burned to tell him about the payment she and Jared had received for helping the gypsy girl, but she refused to give Slane what he claimed to want.
 
The truth.
 
Let him think of me as he will, she thought.
 
There was something morbidly satisfying about keeping the truth to herself.
 
She’d be damned if she’d seek his approval.