Forbidden Magic (6 page)

Round, fearful eyes found his, but no words moved her lips, for matters plagued her mind other than confirming or denying his question.

"Yea, 'twas as I thought," he answered dismissingly and lifted a booted foot to the arm of the chair. He began to unfasten the chain mail from around his leg.

Jewel watched him a moment, covertly judging the distance to the door and the path she must take to reach it, though the way seemed barred by his imposing form. She realized that if she were to save herself she would have to rely on keen wit and play upon his honor.

"How one is called should be of little import. If I claim to be daughter to King Richard or lowly serf, thou shouldst respect my request for privacy. If thou art truly a knight, put upon to protect the softer gender, thou—"

"Softer, you say?" he mocked, dropping his foot to the floor. "A nuisance, as I see it. Of what use are women other than to ease a man's basic needs? Are they ever allowed to think for themselves? Are they given a voice in anything of importance other than laundry or the making of marmalade? What skills do you have except the conniving way you bend a husband to your silly whims? Nay, little one, you wish to be softer, but your heart is made of stone. And I for one will not weaken because you cry injustice."

Jewel pulled back in surprise, startled by this stranger's bitter words. He spoke as though he recited a verse many times repeated and she knew a sudden realization that no argument on her part would sway him to think otherwise or convince him that an unfortunate occurrence had been the only reason she found herself here. Her throat tightened and she wished now that she had trusted her instinct to pass by the public inn in search of her mare. She blinked and a single tear raced for her chin.

"But of course. How could I forget that?"

His deep, angry voice jarred her nerves and she looked up questioningly.

"Tears," he answered with a sneer. "When all else fails, weep. So many men are fooled by them. But not I."

A strong hand shot out, seized her wrist painfully, and yanked her to his hard chest. Jewel's body turned to granite, her eyes widened, her breath left her, and before she could gather her wits and object, his mouth swooped down on hers, moist and demanding and lightly scented with ale. She stood in frozen horror, shocked by his boldness, until his tongue forced her lips apart and pushed inside. She came to life instantly. One wrist still captured in his hand, her other desperately clamping her garments and wrap to shield her nudity, she was left with no other alternative than to twist in his arms and jab her elbow into his belly. The attack caught him unprepared and remiss from the dulling effects of his drink, though it surprised him more than caused any pain. He released her abruptly to gape in confused wonderment, and Jewel quickly circled in back of one of the chairs, setting it between them.

"If your shrewdness is so great, my cocky knight, wouldst thou explain why you cannot grasp the knowledge that this is one maiden who wants nothing from you?" she clamored, though she felt little of the courage the tone of her words implied. "Not your money, your company, or your advances. They, like you, repulse me."

He stood unmoving, the emerald eyes shadowed by his brow, until all of a sudden he threw back his head and roared his laughter. "Gunther was right. You are extraordinary. And had he and I not traveled here side by side, I would suspect the two of you had met elsewhere to plot against me." Giant fists rested on his lean hips as he cocked his head to one side, looking her up and down, a smile lingering. "If 'tis truth you speak, you will be the first who did not wish to further herself with my aid and spread her skirts as payment."

A loathing for this man simmered in the pit of Jewel's belly. "Even death would be more welcome than lying with you," she spat.

"Oh?" he tested with a lift of one brow. "And how can you judge it true if you have experienced neither? Many have come to me a second time while others beg their turns. Surely all could not be wrong."

"Only addled," she retorted. "No man is worth what you claim. You least of all."

"Shall we see?" he dared, his fingers quickly untying the strings of his leather gambeson.

"Nay!" Jewel shouted, retreating even further when he slipped from the tunic and laid it on the chair with his hauberk. "Didst thou hear? I do not care to know what sorcery you practice."

"Sorcery?" he repeated, not at all affected by her demands. Without pausing in his efforts, he removed the protective armor from his legs and straightened to full height before her, garbed only in linen chausses. "You think me a magician?"

Jewel's heart pounded in her chest and every muscle in her body stiffened as she fought not to appraise his muscular body now bare to the waist. Even without the benefit of thick layers of cloth, his size failed to lessen. She guessed him to be nearly two hands taller than she, with broad shoulders and sinewy arms used to wielding a heavy sword or battle-ax. His bronze complexion gleamed in the firelight, which cast shadows against the ripple of muscles across his chest, and she noticed the slight hollow beneath his ribs where a flat, hard belly began. Not a single masculine hair graced the area, and her fingertips tingled defiantly with a gnawing ache to trace each strong curve of his physique. With the sudden realization that she had been betrayed by her own womanly body, and certain that he had cast a spell, she sucked in a deep breath for courage, for she knew that though she willed it, her feet would not move.

"Only a wizard could fill a woman's head with fancies even a child of five would sense false. Or, my pompous knight, perhaps your conceit has filled yours," she proposed, forcing her eyes to focus on his handsome face. "But whatever the cause that these women grovel at your feet, I suggest you find another on which to practice your charms. I am not interested."

A soft smile curled his lips. "And now you have injured my pride and aroused my curiosity."

"Your pride is not all I wish to injure," she muttered.

"Truly?" he mocked with a short laugh. "Then allow me a moment to change your mind and prove to both of us that I do not resort to witchcraft as you say. I fear I would not sleep peacefully if I were forced to live out my days not knowing."

Jewel's patience wore thin. "As I recall, there is another of my kind in the public room below. Learn what you wish to know from her and leave me to my peace and solitude."

He shook his head. "Nay. Wouldst be no contest. She has already offered and you have declared no want of me. 'Twould be a truer match to win your affection and hear you beg me not to leave at morning light."

"If the coming of dawn would find me alone again, I pray for the morrow," she snapped, eyes blazing.

"Ah, but I fear your prayers will not be answered as quickly as you wish, for the eve has barely settled on the land and many hours have yet to pass before darkness will lift and place a new day before us." He started around the chair toward her. "Why not spend those hours with me and chase the chill away with your body next to mine?"

With each step he took, Jewel shadowed his moves, guardedly keeping the piece of furniture between them and remaining far enough away that he could not suddenly reach out and grab her. "I fear too long a time has passed since you have shared words with a lady who is not a whore, sir knight, or you would by now know I prefer to sleep alone."

"Sleep?" he mimicked. '"Twas not what I had in mind. And as for ladies and their desires, I will solve your wonderings. 'Lady' is a title such as 'queen' or 'whore.' I see no difference." All humor vanished from the green depths of his eyes. "And what they desire matters not. 'Tis my own I will fulfill." With that, his huge hand caught the high-backed chair and flung it aside as easily as if it had been a piece of kindling. "I desire you and even though you say nay, I will take you this night and leave you panting in my wake.",

Jewel's entire body quaked with his announcement, her garments slipped from her hands, and as she spun about to race for the door, the mantle glided from her shoulders, leaving only the thin wrap covering her. Tears flooded her eyes as she groped blindly for the latch and once her trembling hand struck it, she lifted up and pulled the door open, only to have it slammed shut again by the wide hand that came from behind her. Certain now that no amount of words or tearful pleas would save her, she dashed beneath his arm and darted across the room, putting the four-poster bed in his path. Her flight seemed not to anger him, for he merely turned to watch and she frowned at the strange look in his eyes. She saw no compassion, no remorse, but a pleased expression, as if he favored an unwilling wench over those who easily, did as he commanded. She despised his callous nature, hated his pomposity, and wanted desperately to show him she was not afraid, that no matter what he did or said, not a single tear would fall because of him. Her chin quivered in spite of her pledge. And when he advanced a step, a whimper trailed from her lips. With nothing left her, she struck out with the one weapon no one could take from her—her tongue.

"You are no better than the lowest of vermin and disgrace the name of gallant knighthood, sir, to violate me. Y ... You will be called to account for what you have done and, by the grace of Cod, I shall be the one to set your punishment."

"And who will see it carried through?" he asked sarcastically, still approaching. "Your betrothed, Sir Amery of Wellington?" A cynical smile crimped one corner of his mouth. "I think not. His ears fall deaf to the sniveling of women."

Jewel wanted to cry out that this was untrue, disavow his claim, but she knew she could not, not when many had told the same tale and set doubts on her own mind that Amery, knight to King Richard, truly hated women.

"Halt, sir," she demanded, a shaky hand raised in front of her when he neared the end of the bed. "Advance further and I shall scream and summon someone from the hall below, a man among you who would defend my honor."

His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile as he effortlessly slid the chausses from his hips and tossed the garment away. Clothed only in a brief loincloth, he brazenly leaned a shoulder against the tall post of the bed and Jewel's heart lurched and her knees began shaking.

"The effort would be useless," he said quite matter-of-factly with a nod toward the door, "for two reasons. No one would hear with all the noise, and my friend, Gunther, would stop anyone who tried." He straightened and started toward her again.

Tears blurred her vision of him and a sob racked her body. She retreated, her eyes darting from his menacing form, first to the bed and then to the single window of the room. The storm outside had not diminished, and it rattled the shutters and seeped flashes of light between the boards. But, ironically, Jewel thought its fierceness less threatening and with gentler rewards than staying with this stranger a moment longer and she yearned to reach the aperture and lower herself from it before he could guess her intent. But her gaze betrayed her when it lingered on the square opening and she started when his deep-throated laughter filled her ears.

"Tis a two-story drop, little one"—he grinned—"and much drier here. Surely you do not wish to return to what brought you to this place ... if you speak the truth."

Chin quivering, she gulped and focused her attention on him. He had advanced within a step of her and Jewel realized all he would have to do would be to reach out and she would he his captive. Yet he hesitated and Jewel wondered why. Had the frightened vision she produced convinced him to think twice? Drawing strength from his silence, she prayed a man of this kind could be purchased by the promise of money.

"I... I will see you are handsomely repaid if you will leave me unharmed to return home." She took a quick breath to continue when his face reflected his disbelief. "And you could accompany me there to ensure payment." A sob shook her and though she had vowed not to cry, tears spilled over the rims of her lashes and streamed down her face. "Please . . ." she whimpered. With the linen wrap clutched in her fist and knotted against her chest, she stumbled backward, trapped by the wall behind her, and he slowly raised a wide hand to cup her chin. She did not move, afraid to provoke undue roughness, and stared fearfully, wondering frantically what he might do. But, to her surprise, he lifted his other hand to gently wipe the moisture from her cheeks with his thumb, and she frowned, confused that a man who intended to take her against her will would show a spark of compassion. But just when she had thought she had won, he raised her face to his, leaned down, and tenderly kissed her lips.

A fire exploded in the pit of her belly and rapidly spread through each limb. To her amazement, she discovered a thrill of pleasure warming every fiber of her being, an emotion that both startled and worried her. Could his claim be true? Could his mere touch, soft kiss, seductive manner, fill her head with desires she had never dreamed to share with anyone other than her betrothed? Amery's name flashed into her mind. Dear God! Amery! The fire died and Jewel twisted from his embrace.

"Nay," she gasped, feeling the heat of her passion warm her face. "You mustn't." She moved to step away but was held steady when his strong arms caught her between them as he pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her.

"Methinks 'tis you who mustn't," he whispered.

Jewel shivered. "Sir?"

"There will be no witchcraft, potions, or spells, but simply naked desire arising in you with my touch. You suspect but fear its discovery."

"Nay. I do not," she snapped, ducking beneath his arm. But as she sought to put a great distance between them, she was suddenly jerked off balance by the edge of her wrap caught in his iron grip. He spun her around when he yanked forcefully on the cloth and nearly tore it from her fingers.