A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (15 page)

As thin as he was, she imagined he was not strong, but his grip on her proved otherwise. He turned her hands over and placed a kiss on each of her palms. She gasped in revulsion, shocked at his forwardness, and forced back the bile that slowly crept up her throat.

“How dare you!” she hissed at him, trying unsuccessfully again to pull herself away from him.

Her dagger burned where she kept it safely hidden against her thigh. Her fingers itched with the intense need to grab it and force this vile creature from her person. If only she could get to it. If she could just wrench one of her arms free…

S’enfuir! S’enfuir pour sauver sa peau!
Nicola’s voice echoed in her mind.

“Chloe, ye are like me, we need to stick together,” he muttered against her hands, placing more lascivious kisses on her palms.

“I am nothing like you,” she hissed back. “Unhand me before you do something you regret.” She made her voice like steel, her glare stern, even though her insides were churning and she wanted nothing more than to run from him.

“We are so much alike,” he disagreed. “I have been thinking about ye all day. Since ye came into my house yesterday, my shop this morn, I can’t get ye out of my mind. I have something fer ye.” He let go of one of her hands, and reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out something small.

He opened his hand and resting in his palm was a small metal ring. Nothing more than a piece of metal that he had molded. Chloe stared at it, not sure what she was supposed to say. Dread filled her belly. This could only get worse. The man had built up some unimaginable bond in his mind, and gone to so much trouble as this…

“James, I appreciate your regard for me, but I am not looking to marry.” She kept the hard edge in her tone despite her meek words, but he ignored her.

“I have never met a woman like ye before. I mean to marry ye.” As he said this he slipped the tiny metal ring onto her left ring finger, against her resistance.

The metal was cold against her skin. She turned her face up to his and glared at him with all she had. “I am not going to marry you. I am not going to marry anyone,” she said, keeping her gaze on him, so he could see she was serious.

He bent his head toward hers, his brown eyes cloudy with sickening desire, his nose touching her nose. His putrid breath wafted over her and Chloe choked back a gag. Was he going to kiss her? Oh God, what would she do? She wrestled hard to get away from him.

“Let go of me!” she shouted.

“I love ye, Chloe,” he said hoarsely against her mouth as his wet lips grazed hers. She wrenched her head away from him, and felt his slimy lips slide along her cheek. Her belly churned. “Ye will marry me. I know it.” A tender smile covered his lips looking completely out of place. She glared at him, her eyes burning with disgust. Anger flared within her that he’d taken such liberties. If her eyes had been daggers he would have been torn to pieces by now.

“You
imbécile
!” she shouted at him.

She began to wrestle against him again and this time, remembering what her brother had taught her, and she gave him a swift knee to the groin. He blocked her maneuver and let out a loud yelp as her knee crashed into his thigh. He let go of her for a moment as he stumbled backward. As soon as she was free of his grasp, she turned to run away, her knee throbbing, only to feel his steely grip on the back of her ankle. He yanked hard.

By now thoughts of her last two attacks were intermingled in her mind, flashing from one to the other. She was desperate to escape.

She lost her footing and braced her arms out as she fell forward on her hands and knees. She quickly came to her feet, stumbled and after recovering her balance, she tried to scramble toward the door. James yanked her back down, and she fell flat as he clambered on top of her, shoving her hard into the ground.

“I’ll make ye my wife,” he grunted into her ear, his anger seething out.

She could feel him rustling with his clothes, and she feared the worst. She kicked behind her, and tried to lift herself up, bucking around to knock him off. He only laughed at her efforts, sending a chill up her spine.

“Ye failed to hurt me last time, and I’ll not let ye try again,” he whispered menacingly.

How was she going to get out of this? He lifted himself off of her. She tried to stand.

“Helping me out like a good lass, I see,” he said and he helped her to stand. Confused by what he said, and that he had helped her up, she hesitated a moment in bafflement when she should have run.

He spun her around to face him and stifled her screams when he smashed his lips into hers and kissed her repeatedly, making loud smacking noises. She shoved against him going for the kick again, only to have him deflect it by taking hold of her thighs in his, squeezing to the point of pain. He held her arms tight against her.

If only she could break free of his hold and grab the dagger.

She tried to stifle her moan of pain, but a small whimper escaped her lips. After he finished what felt like an assault on her lips he again shoved her to the ground, quickly covering her with his body, yanking the hem of her gown up her legs.

“What the hell are you doing?” A loud roar resounded from the doorway, as the door itself banged open.

There stood Lord Hardwyck, an air of command exuding from him. Chloe sighed in relief. Yet at the same time, anxiety and mortification spurted through her. She held back tears and watched as if time had slowed.

James’s look of anger at being interrupted quickly turned to one of fear. The ground rumbled beneath her as Lord Hardwyck charged over to where they were lying.

His strong arms reached out and plucked James from Chloe as if he were a blade of grass.

Chloe stood, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the dirt from her new gown.

Lord Hardwyck held James by the front of his tunic, his feet left dangling in the air, and slammed his fist into the apprentice’s jaw.

She knew there was a reason they called him the Dragon.

James didn’t even utter a sound. He was knocked out from the one punch. Lord Hardwyck threw him to the ground, and then turned to face Chloe. He lifted her chin gently with the tip of his finger and looked at her with regret in his eyes. She was glad for the dim light, and hoped he couldn’t see the tears now forming. She bit her bruised lip and looked toward the ground, a tiny stab of guilt striking the pit of her stomach.

If I hadn’t lied in the first place, I wouldn’t even be here.
Her thoughts were bitter, and she fisted her hands at her sides.
No, I’d be in the tower, where this man would have put me.

Lord Hardwyck wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him. Within herself, she resisted the urge to fall into his embrace. The strength emanating from him was so intense she thought she would melt into the safe haven of his grasp forever. She felt light-headed from the overpowering feelings he caused within her.

“Are you all right,
ma cherie
?” Lord Hardwyck asked, resting his chin on top of her head.

His body tensed against her. She tilted her head back, stunned by the intensity of his words and his grip on her.

“Thank you, my lord, for saving me yet again. I am fine,” she said, pulling herself away from him completely.

He pulled her back, and she let him hold her again, even if only to have the sweet strength of his arms around her for a few minutes more. They were so different from the roughness of James.

“Thank God you arrived when you did. I fear I have some strange affect on the men here in England that makes them want to attack me. Should I take my leave?” Now was her chance for an excuse to leave this place, to leave him and the feelings that swirled in and out of her when he was near.

“Leave? Why would I ask you to leave?” He leaned back from her until their gazes locked.

The expression on his face was one of utter bafflement.

“My lord, you have saved me twice within the last two days. You cannot follow me everyday to see to my safety. My presence has become a nuisance.”

She stepped back from him and straightened her shoulders. She set her chin in a stubborn line and tried with all the power she had left to look strong, to show him she wouldn’t change her mind. He tried to pull her back into his arms, but she wouldn’t let him. The feel of his arms around her had been too sweet, and she couldn’t let it continue.

“After the example I make of him, no one will dare touch you. You needn’t leave. The keep is the safest place for you. Besides, you have no where else to go, as you told me yourself. It would be against my better judgment to turn you out into the cold.” He paused in what he was saying, his brow furrowing. “What were you doing anyway? I saw you from the battlements. It looked like you were sneaking around.”

She decided not to lie. There were already too many lies. “I left a satchel here, but when I came to fetch it, it was gone.” She kept her eyes steady.

“What satchel?”

“It was on my pack horse. I stored it behind one of the troughs when I unloaded my horse so neither Maude nor James would be tempted to look through it.”

Chloe’s delicate arm came up and a long slender finger pointed to the trough in question. He walked over to where she indicated.

“What was in it?” Lord Hardwyck asked, looking up at her as he leaned over the trough.

Her mouth went dry as she gazed upon him. She couldn’t help but admire his physique. His powerful well-muscled body moved with ease as he walked over to where she’d indicated. Her stomach fluttered as his muscles flexed with each movement. His behind was… Good Lord, could a man have a rear that looked so delicious?

She gazed at his face, her lips partially open in utter awe of the man. She was confused by the feelings he stirred within her and tried to stifle them, but she couldn’t. The raw masculine power of him overruled any thoughts she had on remaining calm.

He caught her roving gaze. His eyes took on a devilish glint as he smiled at her and raised his eyebrows. Lord Hardwyck straightened up and she became acutely aware of the size of him.

A shiver spiraled its way up her spine from the vivid recollection of her plight with James—and prior to arriving in Hardwyck. She could almost hear the brittle laugh of the vicious old lord who’d murdered her nurse. Her body ached thinking about how tense she had felt sitting and waiting by the woods. Waiting for anyone, animal or human, who would jump out and attack her.

Lord Hardwyck made her feel safe. She knew she would never have to feel such an ache again. Now she felt a different kind of ache, the bittersweet ache of longing.

What heaven it would be to stay in his arms for awhile. No! I can’t think that way, I am his servant! He will only use me and then throw me away.

That’s what men of his rank and status did when they were done with their mistresses. She would not become one the numbers notched onto the hilt of his sword.

Lord Hardwyck was looking at her in a strange way, as if he didn’t believe her or he could read her thoughts. He didn’t say anything to her, just stared. A tense silence filled the room when their gazes connected.

Sparks fairly flew through the air, as his eyes burned into hers. The pit of her stomach tingled, her nipples hardened. He raked his gaze boldly over her. She shivered, and a knot of longing grew deep inside her. Her pulse quickened and she had the overwhelming urge to be close to him. The room suddenly became warm, then hot.

He was wreaking havoc on her mind and body. She had to get away from him. These feelings were too strong. She was sure he could sense her desire.

He started to walk toward her, hunger evident in his every move.

Now! Leave!
The voice inside her demanded.

She turned on her heel and flew out of the house as fast as she could.

****

Alexander had admired the play of emotions that danced across Chloe’s face. Even in the dim light he’d seen her nipples press firmly against her gown. The air tinged lightly with the feminine scent of sweet arousal. She’d felt white hot desire just as he did and she was afraid of it.

He briskly walked out of the house and caught up to her. Taking her arm, he turned her around to face him. He couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer.

“Who are you? Tell me the truth,” he demanded, overcome with need.

“I am Chloe, as I have told you.” Her teeth clenched tight and her face colored red. “Do you accuse me of deceit?”

“I know you are not who you say you are. Tell me. Tell me who you are.” Although he’d softened his demand, his voice still held an air of command. His body was pressed tightly to hers, she craned her neck to gaze into his eyes. “Tell me wanting you is not wrong. Tell me you want me too.”

He brought his face close to hers, lowering his voice to a growl. He pulled her against him, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

Instead of responding to him, Chloe wrenched her arm free and slapped him hard on the face, anger and fear spilling from her eyes. Before he could register what happened, she ran into the village.

For a second, he was in awe of the woman. Then he recalled where he was, who he was and what exactly had happened. She struck him, disgraced him in front of his people. Alexander’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his mind raced as anger seethed through him. He bore a hole into her retreating back with his glare.

How dare she!

He was at a loss. The people in the bailey had started to gather and stare at the spectacle. His people would expect some action from him. He couldn’t let her leave. He couldn’t let her get away with what she’d done. On the other hand, what could he do? He wanted her, and hoped to break down her resistance by wooing her. He’d lost control.