A Wanton's Thief (5 page)

He clamped his lower lip between his teeth in a lame attempt to stifle the explosive rumble of an amused laugh. “Ogre? You think an ogre could elicit even a smidgen of the passion I easily wrought from you not moments ago, Lady Salena?”

Oh, how she loathed the sound of her name upon his tongue, and yet…

“What do you want from me?” she hissed, digging her fingers into the wet dirt.

“Why, nothing but your safety. You see, I don’t wish you to break your bloody neck, my love.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the cloak billowing in the chilly breeze. With the mask and the arrogant stance, she thought of a knight at court guarding the king with one eye, while the other roved to plan his next victim of seduction.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? My love?”

“Yes, your love. I’m not that in the least, and
never
will be!”

She caught the glint of straight white teeth by a stray beam of moonlight. “We shall see.”

“I’ll ask you again,” she snarled. “What do you want from me?”

“And I’ll tell you again, siren.” He squatted down on his haunches and pushed back a stray lock of her damp hair. Tenderly, he tucked it behind her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, but she tore her gaze from his before he could enthrall her with his magic. “I seek naught but your safety and preservation of life,” he went on.

Damn her traitorous nerves, but the affectionate move nearly rendered her speechless. Nearly. “What, sir, are you babbling about?”

He reached for her, and though she stiffened, she had no choice but to allow him to draw her into his arms. Never mind the fact that she suddenly wanted to be there again. She was no fool. The ground was entirely too cold, wet and uncomfortable to remain as she was. Already, she shivered uncontrollably, though she suspected it was more due to this man than the dank weather.

He rose, her body tucked against his warm chest, and said matter-of-factly, “I
babble
about your life, madam. This very night, I was privy to a conversation within the walls of your own keep that left me no other choice but to rescue you from the sure demise of your impending death.”

“Death?” She croaked it out, that word being the last she’d hoped to hear.

He sauntered toward the stallion, glowing eerie and black as coal against the backdrop of dense woods. “Aye, death. I overheard your murder being plotted.” He helped her up to the bare back of the beast. The animal snorted in protest, throwing his head back so that she caught her first glimpse of a bright white star on its nose. At Falcon’s sharp reprimand, the Friesian calmed obediently. Falcon climbed up behind her, settled in by setting her before him once again and urged the horse onward.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “My murder? Sir, you are quite daft. There is no one within my hall who would see me dead. I am loved to distraction by serf, servant and family alike. You must be sorely mistaken—or rather, lying.”

He clicked his tongue and the war stallion burst into a gallop. Cold wind rushed up her skirts and blew her hair back against Falcon’s chest. “Nay. No mistake.” He reached up and placed the hood of her cloak over her head. The move struck another soft spot in her heart, but she forced herself to ignore it.

“True, you’re loved by all—all but one man. ‘Lady Salena must die’ were his exact words. I heard them clear and concise as I hid in the study.”

“And why were you hiding? Because you were caught in your act of thievery?”

Salena just didn’t—nay, couldn’t or wouldn’t—believe this man’s ridiculous tale. It just wasn’t feasible. Everyone loved her—she didn’t have a single enemy in all of England, in all of the world! Which led her to believe Mr. Montague plotted something very sinister. Why else would he conjure up such a horrid fable? To make her believe he hadn’t really kidnapped her, but in reality, had saved her life? Or perhaps it was to justify in his own sick mind, the illegal activities he’d performed, or to draw attention away from them.

But one question stayed uppermost in her mind… why would a complete stranger not of her castle’s territorial realm care if she lived or died? He couldn’t possibly be concerned with her well-being—could he?

Ha! She’d be a fool to fall into this diabolical trap of his. Already, he had her spun inside some web of seduction she had difficulty fighting her way out of. But that was only when he used his sorcery upon her—wasn’t it? No, she scolded herself. He gave you choices, he allowed you to say no. But she’d said yes. Lord help her, she’d taken leave of all her senses!

Salena settled into the folds of his warm cloak to plan her next attempt at escape and to ponder her most recent behavior. So, to summarize, she thought with self-disgust…she was a woman with hidden, wanton desires in the dangerous company of a lunatic, thieving warlock with deadly hands of magic!

He hefted his gunnysack up to aright its bulk upon his back. “Thief or vigilante. Take your pick, darling.”

Unable to help herself, she snorted. “Vigilante? How so?”

“Ah, how is it that I neglected to tell you…?”

The cryptic tone had her twisting about to look up into the shadows of his face. “Tell me what, bandit?”

“That you ride with the infamous outlaw.” He tipped his hat in gentlemanly fashion, and she caught the mocking wink as one eye glittered for the briefest moment in the moonlight.

“And who, pray tell, might that be?” she scoffed.

“Why, Robin Hood, of course.”

Chapter Three

What was he to do with her now? Falcon asked himself as he looked down into her horror-stricken face. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, had only been concerned with her protection, with saving her from the deadly demise those men had been plotting. He’d been a bloody fool to react without thinking ahead.

It suddenly struck him as quite peculiar how his
tazir
abilities had only been used strictly on his enemies until now. He’d never once had to force any woman into submission. Each and every one of them over the centuries—even feisty Maid Marion, rest her soul—had believed in his sincerity and obeyed him when he demanded his lover act in order to preserve her safety and life. Oh yes, it left his braies in a wad just having to admit that Lady Salena didn’t trust him. Nor did she believe that he acted in her best interest.

But then again, he’d never before had to abduct a woman from her chambers in the middle of the night. Still, it touched a chord of ire within him that she’d attempted to escape him. They’d been nothing more than mere court acquaintances until this night, true, but did she really think him such an ogre that he’d snatch her from behind the strong walls of her keep just to have his way with her?

He ground his teeth together, wincing as the motion of the horse caused her softness to abrade over his painful erection. But God help him, seeing her abandon and desire as he held her within his embrace had proven to be worth having to deal with her cynical mistrust of him. It was odd, but at the very same time her distrust rankled him, just knowing she despised him outside of the circle of his arms sent him to a whole new level of erotic pleasure he’d not seen before now! It meant his seductive skills as a man were more irresistible to a lady—most importantly, to
this
lady—than he’d even fathomed before now.

“Robin Hood?” Her voice came out on a high-pitched note of revulsion.

With a strange disappointment, he saw the flash of fear and hate in her eyes. But then, that was a common reaction to knowing one was in his infamous company against their will.

“Aye, Robin Hood. Outlaw, thief, supposed murderer.” He removed his hat and swirled it, bowing his head sardonically as he held her before him on the horse. “At your humble service.”

“You will rot in hell, you brigand! You will be thrown in prison for stealing from my noble and
law-abiding
family—who happens to be under the protection of the king. And you will most definitely hang for abducting a lady of the court!”

Falcon plopped his hat back onto his head. The rain began to spatter down upon them. It suddenly fell in a downpour of icy, fat droplets. She shivered and curled closer into his cloak, despite her obvious aversion to him. Apparently, the lady was no idiot. She’d use and abuse him to her own end, just like all spoiled princesses of her kind. Ah, but she felt warm and womanly against him! And she fit into the curve of his lap as if she’d been made by the heavens specifically for him. Her floral scent rose to tickle his senses, the unique aroma now wetted and stirred anew. He must get her to shelter, get her dry and warm…and he must get himself some sexual relief very soon.

“Ah, well, we shall see. But first things first, milady.” And he dug his heels in, spurring the horse onward toward the inn he knew to be just around the next bend.

And toward a certain buxom innkeeper to warm his bones and give him just what he required. That much-needed sexual release.

Lightning flickered in the distance and he heard the rumble of thunder move in. “Warrior, giddy-up!” The stallion burst into action, racing against the wind and rain. Familiar with the destination, he galloped through the intensifying storm, tossing up clods of mud in his wake.

“Hold tight. You shall be snug and dry shortly,” he said to her above the clatter of thunder. She stiffened when lightning crashed, striking a nearby tree. The crack of wood followed, along with the whoosh of its falling weight and the acrid scent of smoking wood. But Falcon was a skilled horseman. He maneuvered the steed on, dashing to the side to avoid the falling trunk. It crashed to the forest floor just out of reach of Warrior’s hind end.

“Let’s go!” The horse obeyed with a neigh, bolting and making an immediate sharp turn off the path.

The inn appeared to be busy this eve, Falcon noted as he passed by the front and rounded one side of the square, two-story, wooden structure. Soft, orange lighting glowed warm and welcoming through the frilly curtains abovestairs. Below, the saloon bustled with the activities of free-flowing spirits and rowdy fun. The sounds of laughter and drunken disagreements drifted out to mingle intermittently with the violent storm. But the inn’s apparent abundance of patrons would not stop him from acquiring shelter, this he knew. The innkeeper Molly Pierce never failed to accommodate his every need.

He guided his mount to the stables and let out a low, two-note whistle. Within seconds, a young lad emerged from the dark interior of the structure.

“Mister…Falcon? Is that you?” The boy struggled to keep his voice down, even as the storm seemed to swallow his every word.

Falcon urged Warrior toward the lad. “Aye, Lance. Let Miss Molly know that I am here and in need of shelter for the remainder of the night. And discreetly, as usual, you hear?”

He nodded vigorously. “Who’s that you got there, sir?”

“Ah, be gone with you! ‘Tis none of your bloody business.” He couldn’t help but add a chuckle. “Now, remember as always, I’ve a pretty coin for you if you do as you’re told and keep all your eyes and ears to yourself. And this time, it’s a gold one.”

Lance leapt up and down in the pouring rain, reminding Falcon of a baby buck pawing to bolt. He barely suppressed a squeal. “Truly, Falcon? Do you truly mean it? A
gold
coin?”

“Aye, and one for your hard-working mother, as well, lad. You go and use the coins wisely with your sweet ma in mind. But first, you must do as I ask you…”

“Right, right! I’m going.” He tore out toward the rear entrance to the tavern but suddenly stopped and whirled around. “Falcon?”

“Yes, Lance.”

“Thank you. You are a good man, not bad like they say you are.”

Falcon nodded. “Go, lad. Go and fetch your mistress.”

“Ha! You must have the child brainwashed,” Salena scoffed as he dismounted, pulling her with him. She shivered, her small body vibrating against his tightened muscles.

“Nay, not brainwashed. Lance is a smart young man and very dependable.” And he shot her a confident grin as he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the stable’s dark interior.

She gazed up into his eyes, rain spattering her lovely heart-shaped face. In that moment, Falcon could swear she
tazired
him by the glittery droplets that clung to the soot-colored lashes and framed those cat eyes. His body went rigid, his cock filling with a new rush of hot blood as he recalled her wild abandon of not an hour ago. At that very stormy moment, her sweet scent entered his nostrils and enticed him. In response, his mouth watered with the need to taste that hard little knot crowning her pussy.

“Aye, smart for want of a precious coin, I’ll give you that, thief. But is he truly
loyal
? When my brother Sheldon arrives offering ten times your bribe, do you really think the lad will remain mum?”

He stopped in his tracks and snarled, “Sheldon will not come near either you or the boy.”

“My brother
will
come near me! He will save me from the likes of my beastly kidnapper. Just you wait and see.”

“Falcon!”

At the voice, he whirled in the open door of the stable with Salena’s inert body tucked snug in his arms. Molly rushed across the muddy ground, a stack of linens and blankets clutched to her ample breasts. He watched as her fiery red hair flowed wet down her back and fluttered behind her in the intermittent light of the night storm. Her black skirts clung to her shapely legs, the fabric plastered against her body by the high winds. He’d had himself buried between those long legs on many an occasion. Oftentimes, he’d detour through these very woods just to get a taste of her, even while in dangerous pursuit by the enemy.

But now…now something was different. The petite body in his arms distracted him somehow. Molly’s hair did not appear as silky as before, nor did her tall, voluptuous body seem to draw his eye and make him hunger for her talented charms. Only moments ago on the ride here, he’d longed to slake his lust between her legs this night. But now, now he only desired to cater to the hissing feline pressed warm, small and vulnerable against his chest.

And something quite close to nausea swirled in his gut and made him long to toss the Frost Princess headlong into the turbulent winds and run for his immortal life.

“Falcon?” Molly slowed her steps as she neared and the gleeful smile on her lovely round face faded. “What ails you? And…” Her gaze shifted downward to the bundle in his arms. “Who is that you guard so…so closely?”

The note of jealousy didn’t go unnoticed. Something about it made him feel as if she’d just put a noose about his neck and kicked the platform out from beneath his feet.

“Molly.” He nodded his greeting. “‘Tis Lady Salena Tremayne.”

Molly gasped. “Lady Salena Tremayne? Why do you have the future Duchess of Oxford in your company? And holding her in such a…
familiar
manner?”

Her haughty indignation settled much like sour milk in his stomach. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business, Molly. Now, we need shelter—quickly and discreetly. The lady is drenched and we’re both famished.”

Molly stepped into the dim interior of the stable and leaned in toward Falcon. Her hot breath swirled out in white puffs of condensation to snare him along with the sharp edge of her tongue. Flashes of lightning lit her angry features and thunder rumbled in the distance, emphasizing her rising ire.

“You dimwit fool! Do you not realize the king will see you beheaded for this? For snatching one of his
prized
—” she sneered it out, “—ladies in waiting?”

“Woman, I’ll have you know, I do have a brain within my skull. Now, do you or do you not have shelter for the lady and I?”

Molly’s round jaw clamped shut with a clatter. Her nostrils flared while her auburn eyebrows drew together. She spared one more scathing look at Salena. And if looks were lethal, Lady Salena Tremayne would be as dead as the leaves upon the forest floor.

“I do,” she said tightly, and spun on her booted heel, her skirts swirling with her anger. He heard a rustle of activity and soon the interior of the large stable glowed by the candle she held in one hand.

“Come this way.” She passed through a narrow slat of stalls to a door at the far rear of the barn. Falcon followed her rigid form, the scent of straw and horse now acrid in the air. “The inn is full to capacity, but I do have the tack room available.”

She pushed open a rickety wooden door and entered a small room that appeared to be set within the slanted lean-to at the backside of the structure. The aromas of straw, oil and wax rushed into his lungs as he stepped into the low-ceilinged room behind Molly. He glanced about, noting the little stone hearth that filled one short wall, a few logs of firewood and kindling set nearby. Upon the ground across from the hearth, an undressed straw pallet covered the dirt floor. Adjacent to that, in one corner among the various saddles, grooming equipment and shelving, stood a lone chamber pot and close-stool, quite unusual items to be present in a tack room.

Molly tossed the linens and blankets atop the pallet and settled the candle within a round brass candleholder upon the mantel. “I use this room as overflow on rare occasion. Which is why you’re afforded some conveniences. But I said rare. Not many, save Lance, his mother and a handful of trusted guests, know of this room.” She turned and approached Falcon. The firelight silhouetted her voluptuous body while the shadows seemed to dance upon her face and make her hazel eyes glitter with antipathy. And again, she scrutinized Salena and curled her upper lip with antagonism.

Falcon spoke before she could spew her jealous wrath. “You will be rewarded handsomely, both for your hospitality and your silence.” He set Salena down and looked deep into her eyes. Salena glared at him as he ordered, “Remain quiet until after Molly leaves us. In the meantime, go and take the linens and ready the bed for our night’s rest.”

Falcon dismissed Salena when she stepped over to the mattress and dropped to her knees, immediately obeying him by the powers of his
tazir
spell. But not before he caught the murderous glare in the blue cat’s-eye-shaped orbs.

He ignored her and turned back to Molly, addressing her once again. “If you would, send Lance to me. I’ve something to give him. And please, have him bring along a bite to eat and some additional firewood.”

“That’s it? Just leave you here with her and send Lance along?”

Falcon sighed and cupped her plump cheek. She groaned with obvious abandonment and pleasure, turning her lips into his palm. His touch could always calm her like a dose of laudanum. He allowed her a moment to nuzzle his hand, surprised when it did nothing to stir him as it might have in the past.

“The lady is in danger, Molly. We must rest and move on by daybreak. I will return soon. I give you my word.”

Her eyes turned to limpid pools of relieved surrender. She smiled softly and he experienced a brief stab of regret when she inhaled, presenting him a most tempting, cavernous cleavage. “Ah, I’m pleased to hear you say that.” She threw her arms around him, pressing her round breasts into his chest. Out of reflex, he wrapped his arms around her curvy body and smacked her full on the lips.