Seducing the Knight (7 page)

At that thought a cold chill invaded his chest. He didn’t know the woman he held in his arms, not really. Yet the thought of losing her brought a wave of deep regret. He tried to shrug it away, but the feeling of hopelessness he’d tried so hard to control over the past few
days simmered below the surface, waiting to erupt. He had to stay in control. Jessamine needed him.

He wiped his forehead, feeling the grit of sand roll beneath his hand. Lord, he was tired. So very tired. And so damned hot.

Alan shook off his exhaustion and returned his attention to the woman in his lap. He carefully tied a length of fresh linen around her neck, protecting her wound. It was his fault she had been injured. If he’d left her back at the port where they’d disembarked, she wouldn’t be in this position now.

Or she could have been in an even worse situation, abused by the sailors, or the conde. He took slight comfort in that thought as he studied her in the half-light. A dark swath of her hair had fallen across her cheek. He gently brushed it back to tuck it behind her ear, and jerked his fingers away.

Alan clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to gather her tightly against him and keep her safe. He balled his fists, resisting the urge. Lord, what was wrong with him? He’d never had this kind of reaction to a woman before.

He stared off into the darkness. His emotions had been veering from one wild extreme to another since leaving Teba behind. But losing control now wouldn’t help. He took a deep breath and unfurled his fingers. He had to think about the present, not the past.

“Jessamine?”

No response. He swallowed, tucking his pain further inside himself and concentrating on the night. He heard the soft, whispered rush of wind blowing against the mouth of the cave. He longed to turn his face into that wind to find some relief from the heat, but he couldn’t risk it. The enemy could be anywhere. He pulled the hilt of his sword closer to his side.

“Alan?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the very
fact that she had survived the poison brought a warm glow to the center of his chest.

He touched her cheek. “Jessamine, can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open. She turned toward his voice.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Her dark, compelling eyes searched his face. “What happened?”

“You took a blow dart in the neck that was laced with poison.”

Jessamine’s eyes widened as her fingers crept up to her neck to find the bandage he’d wrapped around her delicate flesh. “Those men?”

He nodded. “Assassins.”

“Why were they after us?”

“They could have been bandits. But my guess is it’s more than that. We must be getting close to some truth about the ark.”

Jessamine struggled to sit up. “We should keep going.”

He helped her into a sitting position beside him. She leaned against the rock at her back. She’d never relax enough to find sleep that way. With one hand, Alan reached up and gently drew her toward his shoulder. Gradually he felt her body soften against his. Her warmth enveloped him, as did the soft smell of jasmine. He drew a slow, deep breath of the intoxicating scent, drawing it into himself.

“Alan?” Her soft voice broke through his thoughts.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been wondering about something.”

“About what?” he asked when she paused.

He felt her shift beside him, but in the darkness he could see only the hazy outline of her body. “Why do you want to find the ark?”

At the question, his breath hitched. Duty, honor, a promise to his king demanded he do so. And yet, there was another reason too. “I need to make the deaths of my Templar brothers count for something. I don’t want them to have died in vain. Bringing the ark back to Scotland will memorialize them as well as keep it safe through the ages.”

Silence hovered between them for a long moment before she replied, “How will the ark be safer in Scotland?”

“The Holy Land always has been an area of great conflict. The ark is a powerful weapon. In the wrong hands, it could bring the world to its knees. The Templars will make certain that no one uses the ark for evil purposes. With the ark in our protection, the world can be at peace.”

“A noble cause.”

“It’s my duty, Jessamine.”

“Your duty means that much to you?” she asked.

The question lodged in his brain like a shard of metal. Why was he here, avoiding everything else, including his own grief? A chill crept across his flesh. Seven years ago he had become a Templar because he’d had nowhere else to go, no one else who’d cared about him. Now here he was again, just as he’d begun: alone. “My duty is all I have.”

Duty is all I will ever have.
Could it be true? Was that all the Almighty thought he deserved? He’d been given a family of brothers for a short while, only to lose them. His gaze moved to the silhouette of the woman beside him. Because of her, he’d lost them all.

Did he blame Jessamine? If she hadn’t come onto the battlefield, would the outcome have been different that day?

The darkness of the cave melted into gray and he saw
himself back upon that battlefield, surrounded by his brothers. The battle cry went out. They charged into the fray as ten thousand Moors advanced. A veil of death descended. There was no hope any of them would survive. Pain clogged his throat. He’d been the lucky one to escape. Because of Jessamine, he’d lived to fight another day.

He’d lived to try to fulfill his duty to his king, and to protect others, like Jessamine, from the evils of the world.

Alan straightened and drew a deep, calming breath. Duty was all he had, but it filled the void his brothers’ deaths had left inside him.

She must have noticed a change in his posture or felt the lessening of the tension in the darkened cave, because she leaned back against the wall once more and rested her head on his shoulder. “Will we find the ark?”

“For certain.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I know that the ark is waiting for us to find it.”

“It’s your heart that tells you so.”

He frowned. What did she know of his heart?

She snuggled closer and drew a long breath. “My heart tells me to have faith in you.” A moment later her breathing changed to the soft, slow cadence of sleep.

Her words lingered in the silence. She had faith in him. She had faith in her prophecy. She had faith in so many things. Lord, what would it be like to have that kind of confidence, confidence that allowed a person to dream about the future?

She had dreams.

He didn’t have a single one.

Where were they? The conde frowned at the teeming streets of Jerusalem. He’d sent his men out in every direction, looking for some clue as to where Jessamine and the man had run.

The girl was his. His princess. He deserved to have her after everything he had suffered. He would be overlooked no longer. When he had the princess, people would have no choice but to take him seriously. Respect him. Give him the power he deserved. Especially his mother.

A growl of rage startled the peasants who strolled by. They scattered to the opposite side of the street. The conde scowled. Let them flee his anger. Jessamine would not. When he caught up with her, he would demonstrate the full force of his displeasure.

Aye, once they were married, he would set his plans in motion to take control of the throne of Spain. Poison would ensure that each and every surviving heir to the throne died, leaving only a distraught Jessamine. Despite her half-blood connection to the royal family, the court would have no choice but to recognize her. And through the benefit of marriage and manipulation of his wife, the conde would become the ruler of Spain.

The conde could feel a flush heat his cheeks. But nothing would ever come of his plans if he didn’t find the girl. Perhaps it was time for a different tactic. He
kept his gaze on the crowd, watching, waiting, until the perfect specimen of womanhood strolled by unescorted. His hand snaked out and clasped her arm. She yelped, struggled, but the conde held firm.

Others in the street stopped momentarily, taking in the girl’s ragged clothing. Assuming she was a slave, and he her master, they continued past the two of them.

He pulled the girl tight against his body. “I want information,” he said, his voice velvet smooth.

She rattled something off in incomprehensible Hebrew. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. Her chest rose and fell, emphasizing the firm breasts hidden beneath her dark clothing.

A frisson of lust pulsed through his veins. So innocent. So tempting. The conde moistened his lips. If he didn’t need her so desperately for information, he might have indulged himself.

He pulled her closer against the hardened length of his manhood. “You’d best understand me, or take me to someone who can.” With one finger, he reached out and stroked a loose strand of soot black hair that had escaped her headdress.

A shiver racked her body. She nodded.

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, allowing her to lead him toward a row of small stone buildings at the edge of the market. As they moved through the streets, he watched the sway of her young hips beneath her gown and his body hardened again.

He clenched his jaw against the jab of desire. He needed a tracker to lead him into the desert far more than he needed to slake his need with this girl.

Once he found someone who could follow Jessamine’s trail, she would pay for all the inconveniences he’d suffered since entering this godforsaken land.

There were no signs of the men who’d attacked Jessamine and Alan the night before when they left the cave on horseback the next morning. Although the sun had barely risen in the sky, the day was already hot. A warm breeze curled across the desert floor, doing little to relieve the heat.

Jessamine batted impatiently at the ends of hair that fluttered about her face. What she wouldn’t give for something to tie the loose ends back. No sooner had the thought formed than a silken gold cord dangled before her.

“Take it,” Alan said, his arm brushing against her shoulder, sending a shiver of sensation through her.

She accepted the cord, then gathered the heavy length of her hair in her hands, quickly securing it at her nape. The breeze flowed against her skin and dried the moisture from her hair. Her neck still bore the bandage he’d placed there last night. She tugged at the cloth with her fingers.

He pulled the horse to a stop. “Here, let me help you. Your wound should be healed enough to remove the bandage.” With gentle and adept fingers, he removed the fabric. A moment later, he pulled his water bladder from his saddlebag to moisten the cloth, then drew it back over her wound, cleaning away the sticky substance that covered her skin. “Better?”

“Blissful.” She smiled up at him. He studied her, his blue eyes clear and free of the shadows she usually saw there. She felt as though she could see straight into his soul. Something subtle had shifted between them last night. She felt it in the way he held his body against hers and heard it in the tone of his voice. The tension that had tightened his muscles was replaced by a warm, supple strength. “I never did thank you for saving my life last night.”

His eyes shuttered. “Then neither of us is in each other’s debt any longer.”

She nodded and turned back around, feeling suddenly bereft. He set the horse in motion. He’d put a wall up between them again, one that was just as real as the natural rock walls of the desert. Huge, red mounds of sandstone were now visible in the distance. And red, pointy spires thrust up from the ground toward the sky like the scarlet bones of an ancient skeleton.

Was it the kiss they’d shared last night? Did he think about that one brief moment of connection as much as she did? Her lips tingled at the thought of their passionate exchange. She’d claimed she wanted to keep her distance, to be proper in their interactions with each other. Yet another part of her wanted to kiss him again, just to see if the passion that had flared between them had been real or something she’d imagined.

What kind of man was the knight behind her? His commanding presence and power were undeniable. But the shadows in his eyes also spoke of deep pain and vulnerability. This was a man who’d had a hard, harsh life. Much harder than the pampered existence she’d known in the palace. “Alan?” she asked quietly.

“What, Jessamine?” There was a note of tension in his voice.

“Where is your home?”

“Home,” he said, his tone wistful. “It seems like a lifetime since I’ve stepped on the shores of Scotland.”

“Scotland is your home?

“’Tis the land of my birth.” A soft brogue lingered in his words.

“Tell me about it.”

He sighed. “It’s so green, with wide open spaces, craggy black hills…”

At the wistfulness in his voice, she turned to look at him. “It sounds lovely.”

She saw a slight lifting at the corners of his lips and his gaze moved to her face, sweeping her features as softly as a caress. Her breath caught as he shifted to look at her lips. “You have no idea how lovely it is.” His voice sounded raw. He leaned slightly forward. A long silent moment stretched between them.

Then the screech of a hawk sounded, vibrating in the air, breaking the moment. He pulled back.

He’d wanted to kiss her as much as she’d wanted it. She took a deep breath and turned back around to stare once again at the desert. Heat rose off the sandy earth in radiant waves that distorted vision.

Over the course of the morning she’d been staring at the red, craggy peaks in the distance, and yet they appeared no closer now than when they’d started their journey. The hills almost seemed to retreat at the same pace as she and Alan advanced.

But by the time the sun had reached its zenith, they’d finally arrived at a deep, narrow opening in the mountainside. Alan stopped the horse at the entrance.

A shiver of fear rippled across her neck as she gazed into the dark unknown. The prophecy would take them inside that deep recess. Why was she suddenly afraid to follow the driving force of her life?

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Jessamine,” Alan said as though reading her thoughts.

The words brought a small measure of comfort. “Where are we exactly?” she asked, staring toward the dark, narrow space.

“The Valley of Edom,” he replied with reassuring calm. “We must enter what the locals refer to as the Siq here if we are to reach Petra.”

Jessamine closed her eyes and nodded. When she felt a gentle caress against her cheek, she opened her eyes to find Alan smiling down at her.

“Those men will never get another chance at you. I’m forewarned. We’ll be safe within these walls. Trust me.”

“I do.”

His smile widened. He encircled her waist with his arm and pulled her firmly back against his chest, then kicked the horse into motion. They surged forward into the cleft to follow a long, winding gorge that was no more than fifteen feet wide. The farther they progressed, the narrower the path became until sunlight no longer shone down between the sheer walls to either side. Chill air prickled Jessamine’s flesh, but she refused to let her fear break free. It was just the dark, confined space that had her on edge. Nothing more. Her knight of white was with her.

They rode for what felt like forever, and just when the long, dark corridor seemed about to close in on them completely, it turned abruptly and opened wide. Jessamine gasped at the scene before her. Rising high above them on the opposite cliff was a gigantic edifice with two tiers of columns, colossal pediments, statue niches, and carved urns, all cut into the sheer rock face. “It looks like the entrance to a royal palace.”

“In its day, it was the entrance of a tomb,” Alan breathed beside her, sounding as awestruck as she felt. “The locals call it the Treasury of Petra. Behind this facade are a number of vast chambers cut deep inside the mountain.”

“Who used the tomb?”

Alan shook his head. “It was built by the Nabataeans in the fourth century before Christ.” Alan swung down from the horse, then assisted her down. He moved back
to his saddlebag and withdrew a small leather book that he concealed inside the folds of his robe. Next, he took out a small lantern and a tallow candle, along with a flint stone.

He set the lantern on the ground and positioned the candle on the sand at his feet. He drew his sword. With a quick clean stroke of the flint against his sword, Alan created a spark that he guided toward the candle’s wick. Moments later, the candle glowed brightly in the lantern. He sheathed his sword, replaced the flint, then held out his free hand to her. “Come, let’s have a look inside.”

Jessamine curled her fingers around his. She’d never held hands with anyone before. The courtiers weren’t allowed to touch her. For one breathless moment his smoldering gaze studied her feature by feature, then he gave her hand a squeeze and led them through the entrance that rose some twenty feet high overhead.

With a sense of awe, Jessamine followed Alan into the ornate structure. Inside, the air was still and cold, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat outside. Golden light from the lantern splashed the nutmeg-colored walls, illuminating a colossal doorway that dominated the outer court and led to an inner chamber. Alan led her up the seven stairs and into what she could only guess was some sort of sanctuary, if the ablution basin was a clue.

“Where do we go now?” she asked. There were two passageways off to the left and right sides of the room.

“Let’s start here.” He led her to the passageway on the right. When they hit a wall of stone, they retraced their steps and instead took the passageway off to the left.

They entered a large, empty space that looked almost identical to the one they’d just explored. But as Jessamine searched the empty space, a strong sense of premonition
made her skin tingle. There was something different here. She stared at the only other doorway carved into the stone. The answers they sought were in there. She knew it.

Alan appeared by her side. “Ready to explore?” he asked, stepping inside.

Jessamine followed. They headed down another passageway that seemed to go on forever, until finally it opened into another empty chamber. This room was different from the others they’d passed through. It was carved out of the stone like the others, yet these walls were uneven and, from the looks of it, carved in haste.

Then she saw it—a small pinprick of light emanating from a tall, narrow crack in the wall at the back of the chamber.

“Alan?” Jessamine breathed.

“I see it,” he said, moving past her to explore the human-sized opening. He held the lantern into the space. “It’s unfinished,” he said, bringing his free hand up to caress the poorly sculpted rock at his eye level.

“Perhaps they grew tired of chipping away the stone,” Jessamine offered.

“Or perhaps they wanted it to appear unfinished for a reason. We need to go inside.” Alan offered her his hand.

She took his fingers in hers and allowed him to guide her into the dark void. Her heart raced and her palms grew damp. The space was narrow and confining, forcing them to turn to the side to slip through the rock.

Jessamine’s breath quickened as she and Alan moved deeper and deeper into the ever-narrowing space. The wall at her back was cold. The wall at her front nearly brushed against her chest. She clung to Alan’s hand and kept moving. “If we find the ark in this place, how will we ever get it out? The walls are too narrow.”

“Somehow it was brought in, so there must be a way to get it out,” he replied with confidence.

Together, they felt their way along the cool, gritty sandstone wall. The lantern cast eerie shadows that twisted and danced with each step they took. The shuffling of their footsteps mingled with the quickened rush of their breathing. The darkness seemed to seep around them, outside the circle of light cast by the lantern. Alan’s hand became her lifeline.

Cold dampness seeped into her clothes. Jessamine shivered. Her breath caught. She shuffled forward. “How much farther?” she whispered into the confined and darkened space.

No sooner had the words left her lips than the passageway opened up, spilling into a small chamber. The light from the lantern splashed across the walls, painting everything in hues of coppery gold. The room was empty, just as the others had been, except tucked high into the back wall was a shelf cut into the stone. It held a small golden chest that was much too small to be the ark.

Alan released her. He pressed the lantern into her hands and moved slowly across the chamber until he stood before the chest. He reached up and carefully removed it from the rock ledge.

“What is it?” Jessamine asked.

Alan turned toward her and bent, setting the small chest on the floor. “I’m not certain.” He blew the dust and sand away from the lid. No ornamentation decorated the chest. “Bring the light closer.”