Sword for His Lady (9 page)

What ailed her? The man would be gone soon and it was exactly what she craved.

Liar.

She bit her lip as she felt a tingle of heat in her belly. It worked its way lower, until it was between her thighs. Somehow, she must have sinned greatly to be so cursed now.

Yet she discovered herself fascinated by the surge of lust. Oh yes, she knew what it was, even if she had no experience with it. She glanced at Ramon, taking the opportunity to study him while he was engaged in conversation with the master mason.

The heat remained, growing stronger as her skin rippled with awareness. Her clothing felt tight, her breasts heavy. She'd tried so hard to cultivate such feeling for her husband, but had been left with nothing but disgust when she looked at him.

Perhaps she was being punished for her pride. The priest liked to remind her that running Thistle Hill was a man's duty. But she was the one who had managed it and she wasn't interested in repenting. Not a bit. She turned and found her mare. Tugging her gently over to where a rock protruded from the ground, Isabel gained the saddle and turned the animal around.

“Hold.” Ramon's voice bounced off the exposed rock face, shocking her. She twisted around to glare at him.

“I have duties to attend to.”

“You will not risk your person riding alone, Isabel.”

Her eyes narrowed. She sunk her teeth into her lower lip to keep from spitting out what she truly wanted to say. Defiance was boiling up inside of her. A few moments more and she was certain there would be no way to contain her temper. She turned and kicked her mare into motion.

The horse took to the road easily, happy to be leaving the rocky area where there was nothing to graze on. The mare carried Isabel up the road, granting her a moment of relief as Ramon was left behind.

But his men closed in on her, coming down from their position on the point and forcing her mare to stop. She reached down to pat the side of her mare's neck.

“Allow me to pass.”

One of the men shook his head, his mail shirt catching the morning light. “I cannot, lady.”

“You certainly can.”

The man tightened his expression, distaste in his eyes, before he kneed his horse and came toward her. Her mare tossed her head, letting out a sound of distress. Isabel grabbed at the reins, clamping her thighs around the animal to maintain her seat. Ramon's knight plucked her off the back of the mare with ease.

She squealed but landed in front of the man. Her thigh smarted from the edge of his saddle as he spurred his horse back down the road.

“You have no right,” she hissed.

The knight offered no response. He guided his horse to his master and pulled up on the reins. Isabel took her chance to be free, sliding down the side of the horse and jumping away from the powerful animal the moment her feet touched the ground.

She collided with another hard body. Ambrose had a similarly tight expression on his face. He lifted her up, with firm hands on her waist. Ramon reached out and hooked her with a solid arm, pulling her over the front of his horse.

She snarled as he sent her all the way over, until her head was hanging down and her bottom facing the sun. Ramon turned the horse and sent it into motion. The beast's powerful stride made it impossible to roll over and sit up. She was bounced right back down. Her head was bouncing with every stride, turning her stomach until she reached for Ramon's leg, clutching at it out of desperation.

Once her head stopped bouncing, she heard the other riders joining them. Their snickers were low but she heard them. Her temper boiled over. She twisted and curled up, straining her body but demanding that her muscles perform.

Ramon clamped her against his body the moment she succeeded in sitting up. His chest rumbled with a growl that twisted her insides again.

Only this time, she knew what she felt was lust.

For him.

Her temper burned hotter than she thought possible. She shoved against his chest, but ended up having the small rings of his chain mail shirt pressed into her palms.

“Be still,” he ordered.

“I shall not,” she snapped, but her breath got caught in her throat when their gazes locked. There was promise flickering in his dark eyes. Promise that excited her.

The motion of the horse made it impossible to keep her distance from him. She ended up in his embrace and prey to another invasion of her senses. This time, the assault came from the scent of his skin. Her face was pressed into his neck, leaving her no option but to draw her breaths next to his skin.

He smelled good.

Christ! Was there no mercy?

The man was intent on owning her. She needed to keep her mind set against allowing him such power.

And yet, his embrace was not unappealing.

Ramon rode right up to the steps of the keep. A cloud of dust was still settling when he let her slip to the ground and followed her.

“You had no right to place rough hands on me,” she snarled.

He bent over and tossed her up and onto his shoulder in response. Someone squealed as he stomped into the keep and kept going up the stairs. He carried her right up to her bedchamber before setting her down and closing the door with a kick. The sound of it slamming shut echoed down the tower.

“When it comes to your safety, lady, I have no intention of debating if it is my right or not. I am a knight, it is my duty.” He set himself between her and the chamber door.

“I ride my land often. Never have I feared it.” She put her hands on her hips, facing off with him. The need to put him in his place was so strong, she shook with it. “Nor do I wish to start.”

“Circumstances have changed.”

“Of course you believe they have.” She laughed dryly, out of despair. “For you view me as something to add to your holding. So of course I must now change my thinking to suit yours.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Anger was flickering in his eyes, but he fought to control it. Seeing his effort made her bite back the next barb she wanted to fling at him.

His attention lowered to where her teeth were set into her lower lip. He gave her a tiny nod of approval and drew in a deep breath.

“Hundreds of men have returned with Richard. Hardened, fighting men who have no masters and no home. Half of those men cutting stone have the look of men who know what fighting is. They all know you are an heiress. Who could your people send out if you were taken?”

“They would never harm me. I pay their wages and give them shelter through the winter.” She turned and caught sight of her bed.

Was she really having a passionate conversation with the man in her bedchamber?

She turned around and tried to fight off the sense of vulnerability sweeping through her. Temper was suddenly of no use, for it was another form of passion.

Something Ramon had promised her he would satisfy.

“Those men have brethren who are not willing to seek out honest employment. Men who will be drawn to land belonging to a widow with no garrison.”

She shook her head. “I do not want to hear this. Life is full of uncertainty. There is no point in dwelling on it.”

He reached out and cupped the side of her face, slipping his hand along her jawline and into her hair to hold her steady.

“You will hear it. When it comes to your safety, there will be no discussion. I will act.”

His touch set off a wave of craving. It washed through her, pooling deep inside her and leaving her wanting.

Wanton…

She stiffened, trying to break away from his hold. She twisted and heard him muffle a profane word before he released her.

“I will have my way in this, Isabel. Resign yourself to it.”

She turned to face him, her robes flaring out. “As I must resign myself to seeing you claim everything I have built here?”

“You cannot protect it.”

Her longings died in a sizzle of icy memory. Defeat was looming over her, as great and hulking as the man in front of her. “And you shall take what you please.” Tears prickled her eyes. Fighting them back was the only thing she might do.

“Yet the choice to wed is still yours.”

She was still blinking away her tears, her vision blurred. When it cleared, she studied him, trying to discover his purpose. He chuckled at her confusion.

“Do you think I lack an understanding of kindness?”

She nodded before thinking. It was a simple response, completely honest and likely to get her in trouble if she didn't control herself. Yet it was her sincere feeling on the matter.

He moved toward her again, this time stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. So simple, yet it blew across the coals of her craving for him, kindling something more.

Now, there was a sense of trust beginning to flicker inside her.

His lips lifted into a ghost of a grin. “The choice is yours.” There was solid promise in his voice.

“Why?”

He withdrew his hand. “Because I was no more pleased than you when the king told me to consider wedding. I have gone to the church doors at the bidding of my parents as well. My wife found the constraints of matrimony too constricting when the king called me away. She cuckolded me and made sure my seed never took root in her womb.”

She was stunned. “Why did you not renounce her?”

His jaw tightened. “Because like you, my family arranged the match, and I am a man who respects his father's word and keeps his vows. I was also away on the Crusade and understood how faith does not always satisfy loneliness.”

“Did you take a leman with you?” She truly should not have asked, but she couldn't stop herself. Part of her was desperate to know.

He struggled with an answer. She witnessed the battle in his eyes.

“Not with me but I sought comfort once I learned my wife was not being faithful.” He drew in a deep breath. “The Crusade is said to be a holy thing and yet it brings out the most unholy actions in men.”

“And the women left behind.” It was true. There would be babies born the next season and no one would question their origins.

“Richard would find himself without subjects if all kept so strictly to their vows.”

Surprise held her silent for a long moment. Once more, they had things in common that she had never thought to share. Doubting a king? It wasn't done, or at least it wasn't spoken of. She had assumed he didn't question his monarch the same way she did.

She'd never thought she could find a companion in a man. It was illogical, after all. Men and women were so different.

She drew in a deep breath to compose herself. If she acted like a lady, he'd have no choice but to respect her wishes. It was safer, more predictable, and less likely to see her falling from grace.

But
it's also disappointing…

“Your offer is honorable, but I must decline. Widowhood suits me well.” She nodded, at last feeling like the wimple suited her, or at least served her needs. Ramon studied her from behind an unreadable mask.

His eyes darkened and his gaze settled on her lips. “The bold way you look at me says you are discontent, my lady.”

“All the more reason for you to take the stone and be on your way.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “And turn my back on the chance to see satisfaction glittering in your eyes after sharing a bed with me?”

“You cannot know such a thing, much less promise me…um—” She clamped her mouth shut, realizing with horror what she was discussing.

“Satisfaction?” A glint appeared in his eyes. “True.” He looked at her from head to toe and her mouth went dry at the boldness. “Such a promise requires me to prove my worth to you.” His voice dipped into a low growl. “I accept your challenge.”

“Wait—”

He captured her gasp beneath his lips, holding her nape as he pressed a firm kiss against her mouth. He kissed her hard but not brutally, moving his mouth across hers and preventing her from clamping her lips shut.

She shivered.

She flattened her hands on his shoulders to push him back, but all she ended up doing was curling her fingers into his clothing to hold him close. His kiss was intoxicating, numbing her senses as she tried to follow his lead and return it. Her heart was racing and she broke away from him, gasping for breath. He let her go. She caught the flash of his victorious grin and then there was a snap as he broke the tie securing her wimple, tugging the garment off her head. Pleasure flared in his eyes. He boldly stroked her hair, sending a ripple of enjoyment through her.

“I will have you, Isabel, and you will find my bed pleasingly warm.”

She braced her hand against his chest, but it felt as if she were trying to keep herself from clinging to him. “Nay…it is unwise—”

“It is…
sweet.
”

He bent his head and captured her lips once more. This time the kiss was carnal. There was no other way to describe it. She shuddered with need, rooted deep in her belly, curling and twisting through her as he pressed her lips apart and boldly thrust his tongue into her mouth. For one wild moment, she thought she might burst. Sensation tightened to an almost painful tension inside her. It froze her breath in her chest until she felt as though the room were spinning. He boldly cupped her breast, massaging the tender globe and unleashing a burst of pleasure she'd never suspected herself capable of feeling.

“My bed will be a duty you will find to your liking. I swear you will be well satisfied,” he promised darkly against her ear. Her nipple had risen into a tight nub. He teased it with his thumb until a soft sound of delight escaped her lips. Pleasure was spiking through her, teasing her skin and leaving gooseflesh. She was fascinated by it, surprised by her own body. “It will be my duty to ensure you find pleasure.” His voice was harsh and edged with arrogance. His arms tightened for a moment before he released her. “We shall take vows tomorrow.”