An Honorable Rogue (35 page)

'Rose, I do love you." His voice was husky, his expression intent. 'I will
never
abandon you.'

He was thinking about her mother, she realised, remembering how he had found her abandoned by the wayside. He was reassuring her because he knew that deep down she had always felt insecure. 'So this cottage--' she pulled herself out of his arms '--is truly ours.'

'Indeed.'

Joy bursting out of her, Rozenn evaded his hands and danced towards the door. 'Our house.
Our
house.' Reaching for the latch, she grinned. 'Let me fetch my things, I won't be a moment.'

'No, you don't.' He came swiftly towards her and squashed her to the door with his body. His head came clown and he touched his lips to her neck, breathing into her ear. 'Later, little flower, fetch your things later.'

'But...' Under Ben's gentle but determined onslaught Rose's thought processes were muddled. Her insides were melting, but there was something she must tell him. it will only take a moment--I was ready to leave Fulford so everything is packed.'

'Packed?' His eyes were as dark with passion as she knew hers must be. 'You were ready to leave?'

She twined her fingers in dark hair that was soft as silk and nodded. 'Certainly I was, at a moment's notice.'

Now it was he who was drawing back, holding her above the elbows. There was hunger in his eyes, definite hunger. 'Rose?'

'You know why,' she mumbled, flushing. Suddenly shy, she would have looked away, but he caught her by the chin.

'Rose? Why were you packed and ready to leave?"

She could not wait till they were married to tell him-- he needed to know at once, the intensity of his gaze made that quite clear. 'Didn't want to get left behind when you left.'

His mouth fell open. It was the first time in her life she had seen Ben do anything as inelegant. 'You...
You
were ready to come with me? To abandon hearth and home? To be my woman?'

She shrugged. 'To share your life, if that was what you wanted.' Her eyes met his and she grinned. 'I did hope that you might marry me, but thought perhaps that I might have to be the one to ask, as Cecily did with Adam."

'What happened to your desire for a knight?"

She reached up on her toes and kissed his cheek, smiling as his arms snaked round to hold her snug against him. 'Oh, that? Nothing but a young girl's dream. It was the Duke's lute-player I really wanted.' Half-heartedly, she struggled to free herself. 'But do let me fetch my pack. If this cottage is going to be ours, I would like my things brought over from the hall."

'Not a chance. You can fetch your things later, we have waited long enough.' Ben's grip shifted and, holding her one-handedly. he flipped the shullers closed and shot the bolts home. Before Rose could blink she was being picked up, warm lips were pressed to hers and the hot blood surged in her veins. He set her down by the bed. fingers busy at the lacings of her gown. Abruptly, his fingers stilled. 'But first, you have something to say to me, I think."

Rose reached for the buckle on his gambeson. As it fell away, she opened her eyes wide. 'And what might that be?'

'Don't you flash those dimples at me, you know very well what I mean. Say it, Rose, for pity's sake.'

Placing her hands on his chest. Rose held his eyes with hers, 'I love you, Benedict Silvester. Please marry me and...and never ever leave me.'

Face transfigured, he caught her to him and they tumbled, limbs tangling and fingers caressing, on to the fine white linen.

'Rose.' Ben's voice was choked. He had stopped kissing her and was running his hand over her breast, and a fiery longing such as Rose had never felt in her life shot from her breast to her core. 'Squire for me?" His other hand was tugging at the hem of her gown.

'No, my love. I'll never do that." Rose said, even as she was lifting her hips to help him ease her gown up to her waist. 'Never again.'

Ben drew back and his eyes, dark with need and cloudy with confusion, met hers. 'Little flower?'

Smiling, she took the opportunity to pull his tunic and shirt over his head. Placing her hands on his chest, she ran them up and over the muscles of his shoulders. Lifting her head, she pressed a kiss in the centre of his chest. 'Beautiful,' she murmured. 'Beautiful Benedict.' His shudder went through her, as did his half-suppressed groan. Briefly she wondered if his insides felt molten, as hers did. 'I will not squire you because that game belongs in the past. I am marrying a lute-player and lute-players-- even the Duke's own lute-player--do not have squires.'

'I am still the Duke's man." Ben muttered, pressing kisses on her neck. 'He needs eyes and ears in Wessex. There's Winchester and..."

Rose yanked at the ties of his hose and pushed them impatiently down over his buttocks. And then there were no more words for Ben's mouth came down on hers, confident, possessive. His tongue slipped between her lips, in imitation of that last, final intimacy that they had never shared.

All thought, all reason fled. His fingers slid over her belly, down farther, found her ready. Both of them groaned, both were breathing fast.

Now, Rose thought, as he positioned himself over her.
Now.

He gave a single thrust and then he was inside her. For an instant, he froze. Rose felt no soreness, only a delightful sensation of fullness. But, of course, this was Ben, he would feel right inside her.

'No pain?" he managed.

'No.' She ran her fingers over his cheekbone. 'I... I'm not too small?"

A startled laugh. 'Never. You..." withdrawing a fraction, he pushed a shade deeper '...are...' quivering, he repeated the movement '...perfect.' And then he was driving into her hard and fast, and she was helping him, holding him to her, gripping his buttocks with her nails, panting his name over and over.

Faster and faster. There was only this--Ben's body over hers; Ben, inside her; Ben and a magical tension that wound tighter and tighter with his every thrust. She wanted nothing but this. He shifted on to his elbows. He was watching her, and that dark, beloved face was taut with passion. Hands holding her head, hands she was astonished to feel were trembling, he buried his face in her neck, thrusting deeper, more frantically with every stroke. 'Little flower." he muttered.

And then it happened. It felt as though she had been flung into the stars as something tightened inside and she throbbed and pulsed around him.

Ben groaned, gave one final, shuddering thrust and collapsed on top of her, panting.

Cradling his head, Rose swallowed and watched as though from another world. Her breathing slowed, her heartbeat steadied. 'So that,' she said, at last, clearing her throat, 'is what the washerwomen in Quimperle were talking about!"

Rolling to his side. Ben eased his weight off her. 'Hmm?" He pulled her head onto his shoulder. 'What's that?'

The firelight was shining in his eyes. Smiling. Rose ran her hand along his jawbone and brought his lips back to hers. 'I wonder if you can make it happen every time...'

ISBN: 978-1-4268-1267-5

AN HONORABLE ROGUE Copyright (c) 2008 by Carol Townend

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Scanned by Coral