Champion of the Heart (29 page)

He stepped toward her, pushing her back, pinning her against the house, trapping her body between him and the wall. His hot kisses trailed down her neck until fire flamed in her veins. The hardness of him pressed against her belly, and the memory of their lovemaking sent hot desire searing through her, the heat radiating throughout her entire body, coming to a blazing peak between her legs.

His hand cupped the round part of her breast, his fingers kneading her already hardened nipple through the fabric.

The thrill of his touch resounded throughout her body, the tingles of desire roaring within her. Aching to feel his warmth, to feel his body, she lifted his tunic and touched his naked skin, marveling at the muscles in his shoulders, across his chest.

His foot parted her legs and he pressed himself tightly against her, his thigh rubbing against the most intimate part of her. Sensations of pure pleasure pulsated through her body, making her entire body tremble and throb with wanting. As if sensing this, Fox eased her to the ground, laying her on a soft patch of leaves and grass. He lifted her skirt, touching her skin, tracing a trail of tantalizing swirls across her calf and up over her knee to her thigh. Jordan sighed and instinctively reacted to his touch, thrusting her hips toward his hand.

He touched the moist bud of her womanhood and her world shattered instantly, exploding into tiny lights of glowing warmth and love.

Fox moved over her, kissing her all the while, his hot mouth seeking a haven of safety and love. She gave him that safety, if only for the moment, a place where no one would try to capture him, where no one would try to hurt him. She opened her legs wider for him, inviting him to become one with her. Fox thrust into her, groaning softly, closing his eyes, enjoying the warmth that sheathed him.

Jordan shifted her hips, guiding him deeper inside her, and saw the flare of desire sweep across his features. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Not yet. Not yet. I want to feel this... I want to feel you... forever...”

Jordan’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. She kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth, touching him all over as if she couldn’t get enough of him. And she knew she couldn’t. Tonight, this fleeting moment between them, would not be enough. It felt too good, too right, to last such a short time.

“Jordan,” Fox whispered. “Jordan.”

And then he began to move. Jordan matched his thrusts, lifting her hips to meet the deep strokes of his manhood, until suddenly he stiffened as his passion’s fluid filled her. And then Jordan felt the inevitable explosion budding inside her, growing stronger with each thrust, sending wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. She gasped and gripped his strong arms as she climaxed along with him. This time she kept her eyes open, watching his final wave of pleasure relax his face, enjoying the calm and peace filling him. He slid to her side and held her against him. Jordan felt safe in his arms and let the rest of the world fade away as he cradled her against him.

***

Fox gazed down at Jordan as she lay nestled in his arms. She meant everything to him, as she had all those years ago. But he was a fool for
making love to her. He had claimed her as his, only to have to let her go. Unconsciously, his hand clenched tightly around her wrist.

Jordan pulled her arm from his hold. “What is it Fox?” she asked, rubbing her wrist.

Fox sat up, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he admitted. He reached for his breeches. “You deserve better.”

Jordan touched his hand, stilling his movements. He couldn’t look at her. He had taken her like an animal, unable to control his lusting, in a wooded forest beneath the starry sky.

“I deserve you,” Jordan said softly.

Her words drew Fox’s attention. When he looked at her, with the moonlight shimmering on her white skin, he realized she could have been a woodland nymph, a creature of magic and beauty. Her hair was wild about her shoulders, her large blue eyes full of trust and mischief. Fox looked away again. “You are supposed to be another man’s wife.”

She released her grip on his forearm. “I don’t want to marry Evan,” she said softly.

Fox bridled. “I should hope not. He will be dead long before he can lay a hand on you.”

“You would kill him simply because King Edward granted your lands to his father?”

Fox looked at her with such darkness and anger she pulled slightly away. “I would kill him because he ruined my family. It was his fault. All of it. He killed the baron. He is the cause of my father’s misery.”

Jordan sat back on her heels.

She should be shocked, Fox thought, but she does not appear to be. He frowned and leaned forward to snatch his breeches up. He slid them over his legs and reached forward for his tunic. “I found this in the baron’s tunic. I carry it with me every day to remind me of what I need to do.” He rummaged inside his tunic for a moment before grabbing something and displaying it to her. It was a pouch. After all these years, the fabric had frayed and the colors had faded, but the crest on the pouch was still vivid. The Vaughn crest. He handed it to her. She took it, but didn’t seem to see the pouch.

“Fox,” Jordan whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge her, lost in his own thoughts.

“Fox,” Jordan said. This time he heard her, noticing there was a strange catch to her voice.

“Evan was the only one who could have done it,” Fox explained. “The pouch had been filled with gold coin. The baron’s coin. My father must have known Evan had done it. I don’t know why, but my father felt he had to protect him, had to take the blame for him, maybe because Evan was my friend. I don’t know. I still can’t figure it out. All I know is that I’ve waited far too long to do what’s needed to be done.”

“Fox, Evan didn’t kill the baron,” Jordan said, staring at the pouch she held limply in her hand.

“Of course he did. He robbed him, killed him, and stole his gold. My father tried to protect him and the Vaughns betrayed him, betrayed his trust.”

“Evan didn’t kill the baron,” Jordan said more forcefully.

Fox turned to stare grimly at her. “Are you defending him?”

Jordan shook her head.

“If it wasn’t him, then who was it?”

Jordan was silent. She looked away from him, her head down.

Fox noticed for the first time how pale her face seemed. The rosy glow was gone from her cheeks and there was suddenly a haunted look in her eyes. Fox scowled. “You know. You know who the murderer is.”

Jordan dropped her eyes to the cloth in her hands.

“Tell me, Jordan,” Fox said.

“You have to understand. Michael –”

He seized her shoulders. “Tell me who killed the baron so I can avenge my family!”

“Fox,” the word came from her lips as more of a sob than a plea.

“Tell me.”

She lifted tearful eyes to him, eyes full of agony, full of guilt. “I killed the baron.”

For a long moment, Fox could not move. He felt like the air was being squeezed from his lungs. Betrayal speared through his body like lightning. He dropped his hands and jerked back as if he had touched poison. It can’t be! he thought.

“I promised your father I wouldn’t say anything,” Jordan said, desperately. “Not even to you.”

Fox stood up quickly, backing away from her.

She moved forward on her knees, as if seeking forgiveness. “Fox, the baron... he was sick. He liked little boys. He had Michael –”

“Don’t!” Fox exploded.

A broken sound came from Jordan’s throat.

“You said nothing! You let them take everything from us. From me!” Fox took an angry step toward her, then faltered. Complete agony washed over his features. “We lost everything because of you!”

Jordan lifted a hand to him, reaching out to him. “I’m sorry, Fox.”

Fox stood stoically for a moment, then swatted her hand aside and turned, racing through the forest.

“Fox!” Jordan cried.

J
ordan dressed as the sun rose to meet a dreary gray sky. She still felt drained and exhausted from saving Mary Kate from the river. She had barely slept during the night. Her thoughts were a scattered mix of conflicting feelings. She warmly remembered Fox laying atop her, kissing her, touching her, loving her. But she also remembered the ugly hatred in his eyes when she confessed her crime to him.

She trembled fiercely as the image of his darkly enraged glare filled her mind. Her fingers were shaking so hard she couldn’t get the buttons on the back of her dress buttoned completely. Frustrated, she gave up on the last button, leaving it undone.

She picked up the pouch and stared at it.

It was Evan’s crest, all right. There was no mistaking the red background and the black dragon. What was a pouch filled with gold doing with the baron? Had Evan worked for him? Was the gold meant for him? Or for his father? Had they done the baron some service?

Jordan squeezed it in her hand. It didn’t matter. She looked up toward the path Fox had taken, remembering the hate, the anger, when only moments before there had been love.

Jordan moved toward the house, a numbness dulling her senses. It was as though Fox had never been in her life, as though these past wonderful days had not happened. He hated her now more than he had before.

Jordan entered the house to find Abagail sitting at the table.

Abagail lifted her head to Jordan. “She’s sleeping,” Abagail whispered.

Jordan nodded, trying to be strong. But she couldn’t stop the tears from entering her eyes. She looked away from Abagail.

“She’ll be fine now that she’s with us,” Abagail told her softly.

Jordan nodded. She hurriedly picked up a dagger and began to cut the bread for the morning’s meal. But that didn’t stop the tears from rolling from her eyes to drop onto the table top.

Abagail put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You needn’t worry any longer. Everything is fine.”

Again, Jordan nodded silently. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t worried about the children. She knew they would be fine.

But she wouldn’t be so lucky.

***

With red-rimmed eyes, Jordan returned to Castle Ruvane in the morning only to find her father had gone to court, summoned by the king. She moved through Castle Ruvane like a ghost, doing her duties and her chores. Servants raced up to greet her; soldiers welcomed her home and questioned her about the horrible ordeal her kidnapping must have been. She had very little, if anything, to say to them.

Her thoughts were consumed with Fox. Her mind replayed the hate and loathing she had seen burning in Fox’s eyes. He would never forgive her.

***

Two days later, Evan came to Castle Ruvane with a garrison of troops. He found Jordan in the Great Hall speaking to two serving women about packing up food to bring to the children at the house.

“Lady Jordan!” Evan called out excitedly as he raced across the room. He threw his arms about her, holding her, warmly embracing her.

Jordan felt strangely aloof from him, absently returning his embrace. He was obviously glad to see her, but there was no feeling of warmth for Evan inside her as there had been for Fox. There was no breathless anticipation of his touch or nervous excitement about what he might say to her, no stirring of desire. Not even a slight twinge of need or tingle at his touch.

He was not Fox.

Evan pulled away from her, a scowl on his brow. He studied her face. “Tell me, m’lady,” he said in a strangely quiet voice, “how did you escape from the Black Fox?”

“He let me go,” she said, quietly.

Evan’s eyes narrowed. “He just let you go?”

Jordan looked away from him. “Yes.”

“It was a horrible experience for you, wasn’t it?” he asked. “He’s a ruthless bastard. Did he hurt you?”

Only in ways you could never imagine, she thought, but remained mute to his question. Jordan’s brow slowly furrowed as she remembered the letters. “You never delivered my letters.”

“Letters?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“The letters I entrusted you to take to Fox,” Jordan said, her voice growing sterner with each moment.

Evan lifted his gaze to the serving women, who were glancing at each other dubiously. He gently took Jordan’s arm and led her away from them toward the hearth. “What in heaven’s name are you speaking of?” Evan demanded.

“The letters to Fox,” Jordan explained in clipped tones. “Ten years ago. When his father was first stripped of his lands and title. You never gave my letters to him.”