Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (95 page)

And just one look at my crowning glory opens Master
Stephen up like a day lily. He regains his composure (sort of) and
stammers, “Well, since you’re uhhh, new and uhhhh, everything, I
guess I can make an exception just this once.” Master Stephen’s
eyes have taken on the glisten and gleam of a teenaged boy seeing a
naked woman for the first time.

“Oh,
good
,” I gush. “Because I would really
appreciate it if you could explain some things to me. All the
mumbo-jumbo about kingdoms and kings and stuff just seems
so—complicated.” Boy am I laying it on thick. I sound so stupid,
it’s almost embarrassing.

“Well, Lisa, as you may or may not know, the Pennsic
War is coming up later this summer,” Master Stephen burbles,
casually leaning in my direction against the wood-paneled wall.

“Oh, ummmm, I didn’t know that,” I lie, trying very
hard to keep a straight face. “There really are wars in the SCA?
That sounds really scary. Do people get hurt in them?”

“Oh, yes. Physically hurt—although usually not
seriously—and sometimes, emotionally hurt as well. When important
people’s feelings are hurt at Pennsic and other big SCA events,
well, that’s where diplomats like me come in. I’m there to, shall
we say, heal wounds. I’m quite good at healing wounds, if I do say
so myself.” Master Stephen ever-so-subtly takes hold of my hand
again, and gives one of my knuckles a caress so light, yet so
sensual, it’s almost enough to make me forget that I am Syr
Phillip’s lady.

Almost, but not quite.

“Oh,” I say. “My goodness.” I reluctantly withdraw
my hand before I get too aroused to remember just which man I’ve
recently given my favor to. “So, ummm, do these important people
get emotionally hurt in the SCA a lot?”

“Often enough to keep me in business, milady.”
Master Stephen leans in a little closer, and I get a whiff of his
Cool Water cologne, which is lightly blended with the scent of his
Irish Spring soap. “And I’ve found that more often than not, I get
hired to take advantage of the weaknesses made by emotional wounds,
especially where Pennsic alliances are concerned.”

“Is that what you’re doing here now? Taking
advantage?” I bat my lashes at him casually, hoping for a double
entendre. But all I end up doing is getting an eyelash stuck to my
cornea.

“Not this time, milady. This time, my mission is one
of mercy.” Master Stephen notices me rubbing the bejeezus out of my
left eye and looks concerned. “Are you all right, Lisa? I have some
Visine out in my car if it will help.”

“No, that’s okay,” I say as I finally manage to pick
the stray lash off my eyeball. “Go on, tell me more about this
mission of mercy that you’re on.”

“Well, it’s partially to help fix a longstanding
quarrel between two very important men, and partially to help the
East Kingdom win Pennsic this year. Which is kind of an odd
combination, because one of the two men in question doesn’t want
that to happen. In fact, one of the two men in question will be
pretty pissed off if the East wins the war this year.”

“Then why do it?” I blurt stupidly. “I mean, why do
whatever it is that you’re going to do?”

“Because it’s the only way to get the two men in
question to make up,” Master Stephen says with a wink. “We
diplomats work in mysterious ways sometimes.”

“Uh huh,” I say, feigning ignorance. Although I
think I’m starting to get a pretty good idea of just what this
bicepped hottie might be up to. “And what mysterious ways are
those, exactly?”

Before Master Stephen can answer, though, Pegeen
shows up.

“What the hell have you been doing back here, Lees?”
she shouts. “I was beginning to think you drowned in the toilet
bowl or something. You’re missing all the good dish! Our waiter is
totally hooking me up with some
major
information. According
to him, Master Melphus just finished talking all about how the
Horde is mounting an alliance with the Tuchux to seize both the
Midrealm
and
the Aethelmarc thrones this year! I mean, we
are talking
major coup
here if it actually happens—”

I clear my throat. “Pegeen, this is Master Stephen
Blackhawk of the Two Shires, from the Kingdom of Aethelmarc.”

Pegeen’s jaw drops to approximately the level of her
knees. She claps a hand over her mouth, and for a minute I think
she might throw up.

Master Stephen takes it all in stride. “I was just
educating the lady Lisa on some of my diplomatic work,” he
explains. With a wink, he bows in Pegeen’s direction, and ever the
suave gentleman, he kisses her hand. “I’m sorry milady, but I
haven’t yet had the pleasure of making
your
acquaintance.
What brings you both to the location of our top-secret interkingdom
negotiations this fine evening?”

Pegeen says nothing. She’s still too busy chewing on
her left palm.

“That’s just my friend Pegeen,” I explain. “We were
ahhh, sort of in the neighborhood tonight and in the mood for
pizza, that’s all.”

“Of course you were. Now if you fair ladies will
excuse me, I will need to be rejoining the Hordesmen I was hired to
persuade to Aethelmarc’s cause. But before I take my leave, I’d
like to ask you a favor, my lady Lisa.”

“Okay,” I stammer.

“Please tell your lord and knight Syr Phillip that
when he meets me and others from the East Kingdom and Aethelmarc at
Pennsic this year as Crown Prince of the Midrealm—and I promise
you, he
will
win the title—that he must be prepared to fight
the entire Tuchux, Aethelmarc, and East Kingdom nations
hand-to-hand—
personally
—in the Woods Battle. Capture of the
Crown Prince during the Woods Battle is a War Point, you know. And
it’s a War Point that the East Kingdom wants to win very
badly.”

With that, Master Stephen goes back out into the
restaurant.

I fold my arms across my flat chest and give Pegeen
a triumphant look. “So, Pegeen, it seems maybe I’m not bad at
gossip after all.”

Pegeen stops chewing on her palm and groans.

“Is our pizza ready yet?” I ask. “I’m starving. And
I call first dibs on anchovies.”

Chapter
19

Two nights later, Syr Phillip and I are engaging in
heavy phone sex. It’s the closest we can get to the real thing, at
least for the next two weeks.

“Are you going to tell me what you found out on
Sunday or not?” Syr Phillip’s rich baritone is burning up my phone
line with every labored, overstimulated breath he takes.

“Only if you meet each and every one of my sexy
demands, milord.”

“And what exactly are those demands, milady?”

I pause to think for a moment. “Well, first, you
must start undressing me, which will take a while, considering I’m
wearing a double-laced corset and leather-boned underbodice right
now.” (Actually, I’m wearing my ‘I’m A Pepper’ T-shirt and a pair
of old boxer shorts, but that’s not exactly a good outfit for phone
sex.)

“Oh my,” Syr Phillip breathes. “I’m undoing the
lacings right now, one by one. With my teeth.”

“Oooo!” I hear myself cry.

“Your bodice is off now, milady,” Syr Phillip
whispers through the phone, drawing me back. “And I am sorry to
report that I have torn it to pieces—again, with my teeth. I’m
afraid the sight of your bare breasts drove me into a frenzy.”

“Ahhhh,” I sigh. “And what are you doing with my
breasts now, milord?” I whisper, fingering my left nipple through
the thin cotton of my T-shirt.

“Oh, I’m doing several things with them that are far
too X-rated to risk saying over the telephone,” Syr Phillip moans
back seductively. “With all the anti-terrorism laws now, you never
know when something might trigger the FBI to start tapping your
phone lines. So I’m afraid you’ll just have to imagine what
unmentionable things I’m doing to your beautiful, creamy, silky
bosoms right now.”

“Ohhhhh,” I breathe, twitching a bit as I feel my
heart start to hammer between my ears. “You’re making me so hot, I
can barely stand it,” I whisper into the phone.

“I can’t stand it either, Lisa. I need to be with
you. Being separated from you even for just a few days is driving
me crazy. I can’t concentrate on my fight practice at all, I want
you so badly.”

“It’s driving me crazy too,” I say. I grab the glass
of ice water I’ve set on the nightstand and hold its sweating sides
up to my forehead to cool off. “Maybe we should chill out on the
phone sex for a while. I don’t want you to lose Crown Tournament
because you’re too distracted by—ahhh—me.”

“Good idea,” Syr Phillip replies. “Why don’t you do
that saying-unsexy-words trick you did the other day when I called
you from work? That seemed to calm me down.”

“Sure,” I sigh, disappointed that our virtual love
session is coming to a close so soon. “Hmmmm. Let me think for a
minute. How about this. C-SPAN, bread mold, athlete’s foot, earwax,
and motor oil.”

I hear Syr Phillip heave a heavy sigh into the
receiver. “That’s much better,” he says. “Except for the motor oil
part. I’m finding motor oil unusually sexy today.”

“Okay, here’s a couple more then. Furniture polish,
laundry detergent, toenail fungus, and Roseanne Barr naked.”

“Ewwwww.
Much
better. Now I can actually
think. So, my lady Lisa, what’s the big scoop?”

I wrap my index finger with the phone cord for a
moment, pondering how much I should reveal about Master Stephen
Blackhawk’s secret diplomatic plot against Syr Phillip, his dad,
and the Middle Kingdom in general. Although I think I know exactly
what that young bicepped hottie from Aethelmarc is up to, I’m also
pretty cognizant that directly mentioning anything to Syr Phillip
about his father is probably a bad idea. “Well, I didn’t find out
too
much,” I finally say. “But what I did find out is
probably at least a little bit important.”

“Go on,” Syr Phillip says eagerly.

“Well, it seems that Master Melphus, Lady Ramona,
and all of Melphus’ buddies got arrested at the post-revel for
marijuana possession or something. Lady Ramona is still in jail, in
fact. The Horde couldn’t make her bail.”

Syr Phillip is silent. I think I hear him grinding
his teeth.

“Phillip? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” he finally says. “What about Grizzly?
Anything happen with him?”

“Well, he seemed to have a. . .small disagreement
with Melphus.”

“That’s probably an understatement,” Syr Phillip
says, quietly. “Those two have a long, strange history.”

I think about prodding Syr Phillip on just what that
history might be, but decide against it. “Well, after Baron Grizzly
and Melphus had their little fight, all the Hordesmen left the
meeting, and Pegeen and I followed them to Noble Roman’s.”

“Why?”

“To spy on them, of course! That’s what you wanted
me to do, wasn’t it?”

Syr Phillip sucks in his breath. “Yes, of course it
was, Lisa. I’m sorry. I’m just a little—preoccupied right now.
Please, tell me what else you found out.”

I stare at the cracked plaster of my bedroom
ceiling, wondering how much I should reveal about the surprisingly
sexy (and knowledgeable) Master Stephen Blackhawk of the Two
Shires. “Well, not too much else, really,” I fib. “There was this
one—uhhhh, guy at Noble Roman’s from the Kingdom of Aethelmarc.
Nobody important, but he seemed to think that Aethelmarc would help
the East Kingdom win Pennsic this year.”

This piques Syr Phillip’s interest. “What guy from
the Aethelmarc? What did he look like? What was his name?”

“Oh—ummm, I don’t remember
exactly
what he
looked like,” I lie. “He was just sort of a nondescript person. He
said that the East Kingdom and the Tuchux will try to capture you
in the Woods Battle at Pennsic.”

“Why would he say something like that?”

“I dunno. He seemed to know a lot about you, though.
He even recognized me and knew I was your girlfriend.”

Now Syr Phillip is definitely grinding his teeth.
“And?” he growls, his tone sharp as barbed wire.

“Well, he talked about how you would be a War Point
at Pennsic, so it was important for the East Kingdom to capture
you, or something. I didn’t really understand what that was all
about.”

“Did this—uhhh, gentleman say anything else?”

“Umm, not really,” I say. I’m surprised at how much
I feel compelled to protect Master Stephen’s identity. Could I
possibly be that attracted to someone who is plotting against my
lover?

“Lisa? Did you hear what I just said, darling?”

“Ohhh—uhh, sorry, Phillip. I was just. . .thinking
about something. So anyway, this guy—this totally boring,
unimportant, and uhhh,
non-handsome
guy—he did say something
about how the Tuchux were siding with the East this year at
Pennsic, and that they’d help the East capture you to ensure the
East Kingdom would get the War Point for capturing you. Or
something like that. The whole thing was really confusing.”

“Oh boy,” Syr Phillip mutters. “Great. That’s just
great. Maybe I should just go kill myself now.”

“Why?”

“Lisa, I have to apologize for putting you up to
that spying mission. It wasn’t fair of me to ask it of you. Not
fair of me at all.”

“Phillip, I was happy to do it. It was no problem,
really—“

“Lisa, I think I know the man from Aethelmarc you
saw. By any chance, was he about six feet tall, in his late
twenties, with brown hair and rather thick biceps?”

Now it’s my turn to suck in my breath. “Umm, yes.
Yes, that’s him exactly.”

“Was his name Stephen?
Master
Stephen? Or
maybe just Steve? Please, Lisa, tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” I finally say in a very small voice. “Do you
know him?”

“And then some. Master Stephen Blackhawk of the Two
Shires is mundanely known as my younger brother, Steve Dawson.”