In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (11 page)

“What are you saying, Laird?” James leaned forward, using his knees as a rest for his elbows.

“I just came from Llywelyn and I got the feeling he’d rather not agree to the betrothal and yet he did. His wife was in the hall and kept glaring at him. When he spoke about it, I got the sense that he was against it.”

James perked up. “If he’s against it, then why’d he agree?”

Grey hunched his shoulders. “I know not, but I would wager if the lass never showed up at Marshall’s keep, Llywelyn wouldn’t be too upset by it. I was hoping … Well, if you’re not involved with anyone that you would take the lass and hide her. Sean said there was someone at his keep that you were involved with.”

“Nay, I’m not involved with anyone at his keep or anyone for that matter.” A frown wrinkled his brows and he firmed his jaw. Hell, he’d had a brief encounter with Emlyn, and he’d just lied to his laird. He was involved as much as he couldn’t get the lass from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He was more than involved, for he deemed he might even be besotted. If only Grey knew of what he asked. But this was exactly what James had hoped for. “Do you realize what you’re asking? If I do this, Laird, we’ll be causing a war.”

Grey laughed. “Aye? I deem they’d war regardless of whether the lass went to Marshall. So will you do this for me? Will you take and hide her?”

James bellowed in laughter. He couldn’t cease for his life took a turn toward bizarre. He’d just been given his fondest wish. Using his tunic, he wiped the laughter moisture from his eyes. Now he understood why Grey had given him odd looks when they’d first discussed the issue of the betrothal.

His laird was interfering again, and had the habit of bringing his guardsmen into affray with a woman. He’d done it to Kenneth and Sean, and now it appeared it was his turn. James continued to laugh for he should have realized his laird’s intent.

“What is so humorous? I want your compliance,” Grey said sternly, looking peeved about his reaction.

“Where do you want me to take her?”

“I’ve thought on it and the only place the lass will be safe for now would be Donal’s keep. When we went to meet with Marshall, Donal was pissed. He wasn’t pleased by the pact Marshall gave Iorwerth either. He remarked that he didn’t like the look Marshall had on his face when he spoke of the lass. I know he’ll support us in this.”

James shook his head. He couldn’t believe their discussion led to this. “There will be repercussions.”

“I’ll deal with them when they come. If we can get Donal to side with us, he can gain our king’s accord that we did the right thing. We should leave this banter betwixt Iorwerth and Marshall.”

James couldn’t agree more, but he said, “Our king wanted us to aid his comrade. He’ll not be pleased that we disobeyed his direct orders.”

“One problem at a time, James. Do I have your accord?”

“Aye, you do.”

“I need your oath that no matter what happens you will not allow the lass be given to Marshall.”

“You have it.”

Grey folded his arms and scratched his back against the tent pole. “When I met with Llywelyn, he said his daughter hasn’t been home in two days. He has a search out for her. You wouldn’t know where she is, do you?”

Mayhap her father should’ve been concerned about that when he’d seen her on the training field. Obviously her father was more intent in testing her arms than having her safely in the keep.

James nodded. “I have an idea.”

“Christ Almighty, James. Only you would fall in love with a hellion princess. Find her and make sure she agrees to leave with us. We’ll keep up the pretense that we’ll take her to Marshall. When we reach the border, you will veer off toward home and we’ll keep Marshall’s army busy. And, James, if you deem I don’t know what’s going on … I know what you’ve been up to.”

James laughed. “I should’ve known you’d suspect something. But aye, I’ve met the lass and had a run in with her. I am sure she’ll agree to our plan. No lass would want to be betrothed to their clan’s enemy.”

“You best hope she agrees. Go and find her. And for God’s sake, keep your face from her fist. Your eye is unsightly and ugly as hell.” Grey chuckled as he left the tent.

James realized he might have need of the dragon key after all.

Chapter Eleven

Where would he find a door with a dragon? James searched all morning, but found nothing to which she described. During the training rounds, he snuck away and was able to walk near the keep. He had to return when a group of Iorwerth men began following him. He didn’t want to draw their suspicion and pretended to be lost. They directed him back to the fields.

James needed a diversion, and knew just how to provoke one. “Sean, I need you to keep all the soldiers occupied so I can slip away.”

Sean scoffed. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Before he could answer, Colm wedged himself between them and inserted himself in their conversation. “I know what we can do. Sean and I will take to swords. Kenneth can bet one of the Iorwerths who will win and gain everyone’s interest for the next round.”

“It might work,” Sean said, and followed Colm on to the field. As soon as their swords rang with the first strike, several men ceased their activity and stood in groups watching.

Before long, many were enthralled in the betting. James grinned for Sean and Colm put on a good show. They knew how to wield their swords in ways others did not. He found himself watching too and realized he needed to get away while everyone’s attention was focused on his comrades. James hastened away from the fields with a quick stride. He reached the water well near the keep and stopped to take drink.

“You!”

He turned and noticed one of the lassies who swam with Emlyn, that first night of their arrival, calling out to him.

“Good day, milady.” He returned a large ladle to the bucket after he drank down a good helping of water.

The lass appeared angry and stood spine-stiffened. James was about to make his escape, but stopped when he heard her speak.

“You won’t help her will you?”

He frowned in question, and looked around them. “Do you mean Emlyn?”

“Aye, who else do I speak of? My name’s Branwyn, friend to Emlyn. You won’t help her, will you? You’ll allow her to be taken to that knave? He’ll kill her, just like he killed my brother.”

The lass became distraught and James stepped backward, for he didn’t know how to console her. “I have decided to … help her. I’ve been searching for her all morn. When I find her, I’ll tell her so.”

“She said you wouldn’t. I’m gladdened you changed your mind. She’s hiding until she can figure out a way to thwart Marshall.”

“I know a way. Do you know where I can find her?”

Branwyn pretended to fill the bucket when two soldiers passed by. They looked at them overlong and he was about to walk away to disengage their interest.

The lass shouted at them. “What are ye looking at? Mayhap I should have my Cranog come and inquire?”

The two soldiers hastened down the lane. As soon as they were far enough away, James returned to her side.

“I know where she is. Don’t walk too close. Follow me,” she said, waving him onward. She walked around the keep near the wall surrounding the fortification. There, he saw a large hill embedded into a high rocky wall. The wall rose up from the ground, seemingly reaching the sky. In the center of the rocky formation stood a white door with a dragon etched in the large stone above. She pointed at the door and kept walking.

He wanted to thank her for her help, but she was already too far away to hear him. James waited until she disappeared around the bend of the keep, before pulling the key from his tunic.

It fit perfectly and he turned it. The door groaned when he opened it. The abode was dark within. He closed the door behind him, darkening the chamber further. His eyes couldn’t see much ahead of him. Before he called out Emlyn’s name, someone attacked him and forced him back onto a table. Their sword thrust against his neck. He couldn’t breathe. As his eyes adjusted to the obscurity, he saw her.

“Emlyn.”

She withdrew her sword and pulled back. “James.” His name was a sultry whisper on her lips. She dropped her sword and threw herself in his arms.

James caught her and when she set her mouth on his, he was swarmed with lust. Their kiss became frantic, vehement, and full of desire. Holding her close, he reveled having her in his arms again. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, and continued kissing her as if he was ravenous.

Her hands gripped his tunic, and he felt the air around him when she stripped it from his body.  James kept his mouth fused with hers, surrendering to her siren’s tongue’s call. He had never been kissed so seductively or enthusiastically before and vowed to enjoy every second of it. Her hands moved frantically over his chest in unison with her lips.

Emlyn caressed his bared chest, her fingers squeezing and pinching him. James leaned back against the table and pulled her to stand between his legs. He undid the ties of her tunic and pulled it over her head, breaking off their kiss.

They both laughed, and then James took her breasts in his hands. He gazed at them and when she leaned in, he used his mouth to tease the hardened tips of her nipples. She moaned and set her hands on his shoulders as he continued to press his attention on her lovely mounds.

“James, please … Can you not tell how much I want you? This is not the time to tease or go slow.”

“Aye, it is, lovely. I want to touch you everywhere and I won’t be content until I do.” He caressed her body with his rough hands, roaming at his will. James tugged at the closure of her breeches when his hands reached her waist, until they fell to her ankles. She stepped out of the garment, and began seductively removing her shift. It was all too much and James growled, anxiously wanting her to rid it. He helped her shift it beneath her hips. When she stood before him, James knew he was astute, for she was a vixen, one that held him in complete rapture.

“Let me look at you.”

She stepped back and he his eyes took in the musculature of her arms and legs. Emlyn was as fit as a warrior, and he surmised it was due to the practice she participated in daily. Her hands and feet were dainty, her hips curvaceous, and her chest speckled with the same freckles she had on her face. When he remembered to breathe, he took a breath.

“I didn’t get a chance to enjoy this view the other night. You are beyond beautiful, Emlyn.”

She took a step toward him again and ran her hands along his arms. When she reached the bulge of his biceps, she stopped and stared at him.

“Not as strong and capable as you,” she said in a whisper.

James unbelted his tartan and let his garment fall to join hers. He hopped on the table and pulled her on to his lap. He wanted nothing more than to be inside her—knowing nullity from their previous encounter.

Emlyn sat astride him, with her hands on his shoulders for support. She leaned close and kissed his chin, his cheek, his nose, and finally his mouth. Her sweet lips brushed lightly over his and caused him to moan, for he wanted to taste her again.

She settled her mouth against his, and James thought the coy gesture was utterly feminine. It was completely unexpected from her. In this she couldn’t help but be the sweet, willing lass he’d hoped she’d be.

James leaned back on his elbows and watched as she took hold of his erection and guided it to her woman’s essence. He couldn’t hold back the groan of pleasure when he entered the wet, warmth of her body.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Nay, to the contrary. I’m yours to command, lovely. Do with me what you will. What do you want me to do?”

Emlyn raised her body and lowered herself onto him. The movement caused him to grit his teeth, for he was already pulsing with the need to ram inside her and expire. It took a will he didn’t know he possessed to remain still and allow her untried movements.

“Hold my hips and help me move,” she commanded.

James did as she bode and as she began gyrating madly against him, he closed his eyes and basked in the glory of their joining. He wished he’d remembered their last encounter, because this one damned near, pleasantly tortured him.

Emlyn slowed, and tossed her head back. She appeared lost in passion, and he took over from there and jerked his hips to meet her. He continued to thrust, and they both rasped with the exertion of their hasty movements. James slowed and took hold of her waist. He flipped her onto her back and laughed when she gasped.

“Now it’s my turn.” He settled himself between her legs and thrust deep and hard. She withered beneath him, huffing, and moaning. James got caught up in listening to her sweet desirous wails that he had lessened his movements.

Emlyn cried out, and James suspected she was nearing culmination, and he kept to the teasing pace. She screamed his name and he moaned. Her woman’s core tightened and convulsed around his erection. Such sweet, tumultuous torture.

James couldn’t hold back and he became a beast. Pleasure entwined his veins, and he shook with magnanimous force. He thrust and stayed planted, for his body hardened and he released a ground-out breath in a guttural call. He was wracked in a paralyzing orgasm of which he’d never experienced.

His breath rasped and when he opened his eyes, he found her watching him closely. The only thing he could do at that moment was grin, for if anyone asked him to move, he would likely fall.

“God Almighty, James. I cannot believe how wonderful that feels.” She continued to stroke his arms and smiled.

He laughed and pulled away from her, giving her a hand to help her sit up. Emlyn threw her legs over the side of the table and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Is it like that all the time?”

He grinned, for he was about to tell a falsehood. “Aye, it is.”

Emlyn’s sweet laughter flowed through him.

“I cannot believe you came to me. Does this mean what I deem it to mean?”

“Aye. I will help you.”

She threw herself into his arms. “James,” she said, trailing light kisses over his face, “Thank you. Why did you change your mind?”

He chuckled and pulled her against him. Her naked body felt splendid against his. “I’ve been released from my vow to my laird. When we go, we will let everyone believe you’re going to Marshall as agreed. When we reach the border, we’ll head north.”

“Oh, I thought mayhap you … Ah, well that is good and I am relieved.”

A bang sounded on the door and they both shot a gaze toward it. The banging persisted.

“Who else knows you’re here?”

More bangs came and shouts. “Emlyn, are you in there? If you are, ye best answer me. I demand you open this door at once.”

“Oh, damnation. It’s my mother. Come, we must hide.” Emlyn scooped up her garments, and James followed suit. He clasped her hand as she led him to a dark, dank outlet. They seemed to be in a cave. “This should be far enough.”

Once inside the cavern, James moved into a recess of rock near the entrance where Emlyn stopped. Light from the antechamber didn’t reach the cave and he could barely see her even though she stood next to him.

“My mother won’t come in here. Stay quiet.”

James pulled on his tartan, belted it, and held on to his tunic. He helped pull Emlyn’s tunic over her head and she giggled when his fingers brushed her abdomen.

“You’re ticklish. I’ll have to remember that.”

“Shhhh,” she said, setting a finger over her lips.

James grinned and pulled her to his body. He kissed her and kept it up until his lips became numb.

Voices came from the antechamber and Emlyn broke off the kiss, and leaned to peer into the lightness.

“Emlyn, if you’re in there, ye best come out. Delyth told me where to find you. Hiding will do you no good. You will be sent to Marshall and will wed him as your father and I bid. You have a duty as your father’s daughter. As a Wales princess, you should not be acting so childish. I am being reasonable, but not for much longer. Do you hear me?”

Emlyn whispered in his ear, “How can we not? She’s yelling loud enough to rattle the bats and wake the Gods.”

“Mayhap she’s not in there,” one of her mother’s guards said.

“If you do not return to the keep by this eve, I vow I will send ye to our enemy without a stitch of clothing on. Come all, I have spoken my peace.”

The antechamber door banged and a quiet followed.

Emlyn stood still and didn’t seem to want to move. James pulled her close and clasped her in his arms. “Do you deem she means what she said? I fear all of the Gunns would want to ride alongside ye, you being naked and all.”

Emlyn laughed. “Oh aye, she means it. My mother was born to King John of England. Her heart is just as malevolent. I doubt she knows what compassion is.”

James kissed her forehead. “Mayhap, you’re aright, for I know King John never had any. What is this place?”

From deep inside the cavern, he heard the sound of dripping water. The scent of fish and an acrid smell engulfed him. He noticed the ceiling went upward and seemed not to end. He never would have guessed the chamber led to the cave, but the entrance was darkened and it appeared to be another room. It was far from an adjoining room.

“Ddraig Goch, the red dragon’s lair, the dragon that guards my grandfather’s secrets.”