To Tempt a Knight (10 page)

She might have lived for years in isolation with her father, but she was wise in some things. William would have to earn her trust before she led him to the Templar treasure.

“How do we know we’re heading in the right direction?” Siobhan asked between halting breaths as she kept pace with William.

It was the first time she had spoken in quite a while. For a moment William felt guilty that he’d pushed her so hard. “Let’s rest.” He stopped and turned to face her.

She nodded breathlessly as she wiped the sweat from her forehead and neck with the back of her hand. She scanned the area, then headed toward a fallen log a few paces away. “I’m going to sit for a—”

The sound of wood snapping echoed through the forest. Her words fell away. She screamed as she plunged from sight.

William’s heart jumped to his throat. “Siobhan?” He whipped the saddlebag from his back and lunged to where she had vanished. A huge hole gaped in the ground. “Siobhan?” he called into the dark pit.

Nothing.

A thrill of fear pulsed through him. His gaze tripped over the snapped branches that jutted out from around the pit. He’d seen similar traps before, built by his fellow Templars. She had wondered how they’d know if they were on the right track. This trap proved they were. If she wasn’t dead or injured, he would delight in telling her so.

William found little comfort in the thought as he sped
back to his saddlebag and grabbed a long rope. Quickly, he tied one end to a nearby tree and tested to make certain the line was secure. Climbing would be easier without his mail, but he didn’t want to waste valuable time taking it off. He stepped to the edge of the pit and leapt into nothingness.

He hit the side of the pit. Pain radiated through his injured body. He bit back a groan. Siobhan needed him. Rock. A good sign. It would be harder with a rock bottom to line the pit with sharpened stakes, as was usual in this type of trap. “Siobhan?”

William’s voice echoed all around him. His feet slid down the rock walls of the pit and the rope slid through his fingers in his haste. His palms burned. He quickened his pace. He had to reach her.

He strained to see in the darkness. A dark mass appeared off to his right. It had to be Siobhan. A heartbeat later, his feet touched the ground. Smooth, even ground devoid of stakes. He released his pent-up breath and raced to her side.

She lay facedown, unmoving. Carefully, he reached around her and placed his hand above her lips. Warm air brushed the back of his hand. She breathed.

“Siobhan?” No answer. Slowly, he rolled her onto her back. He had to get her out of there to assess what damage had been done.

Praying he didn’t do her any further harm, he lifted her in his arms and draped her slight body over his shoulder. He grasped the rope and climbed, bracing his feet against the wall, and began to half walk, half pull the two of them toward the light.

They would survive this trap. His fingers were bleeding, he noticed vaguely as he left blotches of red on the rope. His arms trembled. His shoulders ached. Then the pain was gone, numb with strain and weariness.

He could see daylight ahead.

Sweat stung his eyes, but he remained riveted on the light ahead. He put one hand over the other until finally he reached the edge of the pit and pulled them both over the top.

He carefully set Siobhan on the ground, then collapsed beside her, panting. He stayed there a moment before pulling himself up and crouching beside her. He rolled her over. A bright red gash marred the side of her forehead. Blood flowed from the wound across her delicate temple and onto her cheek.

William reached beneath his mail, and with one mighty jerk ripped a section of linen from the shirt he wore beneath his padding. He quickly folded the fabric and pressed it firmly against her wound. “Siobhan?” he called softly. “Please open your eyes.”

She groaned. Her eyes fluttered. They snapped open and fixed on his face. Fear and confusion darkened her gaze.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
Please let her be well.

She studied his face. Her brow knitted, then cleared. “I fell,” she said, her voice thready and weak.

“You’ve cut your head. Does anything else hurt? Your legs? Arms?”

She started to shake her head, then groaned. “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

He bent over her. “Might I have your permission to check your limbs for further damage?”

“As you wish.”

Carefully, he lifted each of her arms and worked her shoulders, elbows and wrists. Apart from a few scrapes, she appeared unharmed. Methodically, he searched her gown for rips or telltale splotches of blood. When he found none, he moved on to her legs.

He brushed the hem of her gown up her calves and brought his big hands down on her slender legs. His callused hand stroked her flesh, searching for injury, yet as he touched her his body awakened.

She gazed at him as if caught in a spell, her pulse fluttering wildly in the hollow of her throat.

Her skin was as velvet soft as it looked, and warm, so warm, despite her recent suffering. He could feel the hot pounding of her pulse against his fingertips. And it gave him a moment’s satisfaction to know his touch affected her as well. When he’d finished examining one leg, he slipped his hands up the other.

A shudder trembled through her. Her gaze flew to his face. Wild color flooded her cheeks. His palm moved up her calf and onto her thigh, then back down again. “You appear to be unharmed.”

“But not unaffected,” she breathed.

He instantly released her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He startled. “For what? Falling into a well-hidden pit?” He moved to a sitting position, then cradled her head in his lap, continuing to apply pressure to her wound. With his other hand, he reached up and gently stroked the hair from her forehead. “There is nothing to apologize for. In fact, you answered your own question about us being on the right track.”

Her eyes widened in her pale, drawn face. “What do you mean?”

“That trap was set by the Templars. It proves we’re exactly where we need to be.”

Her hand drifted to the folds of her skirt. “The scroll appears to have survived my fall as well.” She attempted to sit up. “We should continue.”

He pressed her back into his lap. She looked as delicate as the most fragile of blossoms. Why could it not have
been he who’d discovered the trap? He was used to the abuses of war, whereas she had no such experience. He would have to be far more careful to protect her from danger. He offered her a reassuring smile. “We’ll make camp here for the night.”

“In the open?”

She had suffered enough. “The sky is clear. There will be no rain tonight.” He wouldn’t move her until he was certain she was perfectly capable of continuing their journey. “I’ve spent many a night in the open with the stars as my blanket.”

Her body relaxed back into his. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes fluttering closed. “I admit I’m quite weary all of a sudden.”

“Siobhan.” His voice was sharp.

Her eyes flicked open.

“You must stay awake, at least for a time.” Once again he brushed the hair from her brow and across her temple. So soft. So incredibly soft. “It’s been my experience with soldiers who’ve had head wounds that if they fall asleep too quickly after the injury, they don’t wake up. I need you to stay with me until we’re certain you’re well.”

She smiled. “It’ll take more than a pit to put me under, Sir Knight.”

A pang of tenderness stirred within him. It did his heart good to hear her make light of the circumstances. He’d been in far too many situations of late that had gone desperately wrong. He gazed out at the forest surrounding them.

Off to his right a bush rustled. His muscles locked with tension as he stared at the place. He caught a glimpse of brown. A deer? Or had someone else besides de la Roche followed them up the mountain?

At Siobhan’s soft gasp, his gaze returned to her face.

“Too much pressure,” Siobhan said. Her hand came up to his, releasing the bandage he’d pressed a little too firmly against her skin. “I think this has stopped bleeding.”

He allowed her to remove the compress. After noting that the bleeding had indeed stopped, his gaze shot back to the bush. All was silent now. He scanned the area. Had the motion truly been an animal of some sort? How would he keep them safe without moving Siobhan?

He spotted a wall of rock farther back from the pit. “Stay here.” He shifted from beneath Siobhan, resting her head upon the forest floor while he stood, then gathered the saddlebag from where he’d dropped it. He moved between the pit and the wall and laid down his cloak before returning to her side and helping her up. “Come, rest here between the pit and the wall.” The open pit and the solid wall would serve as protection. That left only his right and left to guard as the night approached.

He drew his dagger from his boot and extended the grip toward her. “I think you were right to ask me to teach you how to defend yourself.”

She accepted the weapon. “You want to teach me now?”

“Nay, but I must leave you for a moment. I won’t go far. I need to gather wood for a fire.” His gaze dropped to the dagger in her hand. “This is just in case.”

Before she could question him further, he turned and headed for the bush. He would not rest easy until he made certain the area was clear.

He crept through the dense foliage, searching the ground for footprints, anything that might reveal whether he’d seen man or beast. He halted as the proof he sought lay before him. Two boot prints were clearly discernable in the dirt.

Not an animal. A single male pursued them.

William’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword. His gaze pierced the surrounding area that was bathed in the dappled light of the late afternoon sun. Nothing stirred. But he’d been warned. And once he’d been warned, no one got the best of William Keith.

“Siobhan.”

Siobhan snapped her eyes open to see William standing over her. “You must stay awake, at least for a short while.”

She let the words run through her as he sat down on the fur cloak beside her. With an effort she opened her eyes and focused on the trees in the distance. The distinct leaves shifted, blurred as her eyelids grew heavy once more. She knew she should keep her eyes open, but suddenly they seemed so heavy.

“Siobhan,” his voice crept into her thoughts. “You have to try.” He scooted closer until his thigh rested against her own.

Silence hovered between them, but it wasn’t a silence filled with tension. It felt companionable, soft, relaxed. Without thinking, she leaned her head on his shoulder. He leaned closer, providing more support. Gradually, Siobhan relaxed and became aware of the coolness that laced the late evening air, the sound of the birds twittering endlessly overhead, the scent of loamy soil beneath them that still held a slight dampness from the rain. The warmth of William’s body enveloped hers. Heat radiated between them, prickling her flesh. She forced herself to think about something other than the feel of his leg and the firmness of his muscular thigh.

For the first time she wondered if it could be true…if the Templar treasure existed. “William?”

“Aye,” he shifted his head to glance down into her face.

“Have you ever seen the treasure?”

He shook his head lightly. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “It is said to contain legendary pieces of every culture, ancient to modern, along with many holy relics.”

Siobhan frowned. “Why aren’t others besides de la Roche after it?”

“Its location has always been a well-guarded secret. Many people no longer believe the stories.”

Her father had been part of that secret. The thought still met with much disbelief. “If someone were eager enough to discover that secret, then nothing would stop them.”

William shrugged, jostling her head slightly. “Perhaps that’s why your father sought to keep the two of you hidden from the world for so long.”

She brought her fingers to her throbbing temple. “It worked for a while, until de la Roche came along.”

William offered her a soft smile. “Does your head still pain you?”

Siobhan nestled deeper against his shoulder, feeling more relaxed as darkness started to fall. “It’s getting better.”

“Then close your eyes and let sleep come. I’ll stay awake and make certain you are safe.”

His hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. He didn’t draw the weapon this time, but left it sheathed. Siobhan took that as a sign that the danger to them was not as imminent as it had been last night. Perhaps if she closed her eyes for just a moment…A short reprieve was all she
needed, and then she would keep William company for what remained of the night.

William sighed in his sleep and turned on his side, spooning against Siobhan’s warm body. The delicate fragrance of heather surrounded her, despite the overwhelming scent of smoke that had permeated their skin and clothes.

He tightened his arms around her body and slid a leg gently atop hers. He wanted to be nearer. He was protecting her, he told himself. Even with the two of them fully clothed, he could feel the heat of her body as it pressed against his chest. He nuzzled his cheek against the silken strands of her hair.

A soft sound came from Siobhan. She rolled over, still asleep, to press her body against his. Her breasts met his chest each time he drew a breath. Each innocent brush sent a shock of awareness through him.

She sighed. He froze, almost afraid she would awaken and end the serenity of the moment. Instead, she nestled deeper into his embrace and released another contented sigh.

Her face was turned up to his, and their lips were no more than a fingertip apart. Her calm, even breath teased his face, his lips. He stared down at the long, thick eyelashes that fanned her pale cheeks. He had the sudden urge to shift his body ever so slightly so that his lips would come into contact with hers.

It took all his willpower to hold himself in check as he remained still, afraid to move forward or back. He’d never in his life experienced the tumultuous emotions that churned inside his chest, his loins, his heart: exhilaration, fear, desire and guilt, all mixed with an overwhelming sense of rightness.

They had been together for three nights. It felt more
like a lifetime. Siobhan knew more about him than he’d let anyone but Simon and Kenneth know—his goals, his desires, what events had shaped him into the person he’d become. He found it easy to talk with her. In her presence, he felt no pressure to be anything other than who he was.

On impulse, he reached out and smoothed a lock of her red hair away from her cheek. She sighed. Her eyelids fluttered. William’s hand froze and his heartbeat stuttered. What would happen right now if she opened her eyes and found him staring at her? Would that comfort between them vanish? He swallowed roughly. He didn’t want to find out. He slammed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.

Siobhan awakened slowly, not quite ready to let go of the peacefulness that wrapped itself around her. After last night’s sleeplessness, it felt wonderful to be so comfortable, warm and secure.

She stretched. Suddenly, she became aware of the leg atop hers. She opened her eyes and stared straight into William’s sleeping face. She stilled, afraid to move or even breathe, lest she bring her lips into contact with his. The gentle whirring of his breath fanned her face. And after a moment, she found herself relaxing once again.

She studied the man before her. He looked so peaceful in his slumber. He’d been as exhausted as she when they’d been forced to stop here because of her fall. Yet now, after some sleep, William looked refreshed and ready to go forward.

Siobhan drew a soft breath and allowed the sensations of the moment to wash over her. William’s hand was threaded in her hair and rested at the side of her face. His leg was thrown casually over her thigh—warm, masculine, possessive. Truth be told, she didn’t object to the sensations at all. It brought her much contentment, as she’d always imagined a lover’s embrace would feel.

She smiled, but that smile faded a moment later. How would William react if he awoke to discover the two of them entwined like this? Would he object? Would he feel a similar contentment? Or would he pull away, wondering how their intimate entanglement had come about?

She wasn’t certain she could handle seeing the cool aloofness return to his eyes when she’d enjoyed this moment so much. Saving herself from another rejection, she slowly, deliberately, eased out of his embrace. She had almost succeeded in extricating his hand from her hair when his eyes popped open.

“Good morning, Siobhan,” he said, his voice thick.

“Good morning,” she replied. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Ready to start the day?” he asked, shielding his gaze from her now.

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, despite her efforts to hide her feelings from him.

William scooted backward until his body no longer touched hers. The cool morning air rushed in to replace the heat that had wrapped itself around them. “I’ll warm up the remaining fish.” He sat up and shoved his feet into his boots, then thrust his sword into the scabbard at his side. “We can break our fast and be on our way.”

He turned away.

Siobhan sat up, grateful that her head no longer pained her. She drew a long, deep breath of the fresh morning air. They were back to the status quo. Despite the riot of emotions that careened inside her and the desire she had seen ever so briefly in William’s eyes, they would go on as though nothing had transpired.

She stood. If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, then she could, too. She was made of sterner stuff than even she had ever imagined.