Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) (15 page)

Basil swung his legs to the floor. She straddled one, buried her hands in his hair and lowered herself down. She ground along the length of the captured thigh, the erotic contact making her bold. He cupped her bare buttocks, licking the tiny rivulet of sweat that rolled between her breasts.

He brought her with him as he stood, deft fingers undid the laces of the dress. Strong arms laid her back on the bed.

She cradled his face in her palms, and kissed his lips, his chin, his neck, his cheeks. He smelled of soap and chamomile.

Surrounded by the soft down of the bed she watched him undress. The nobleman and warrior slowly stripped away, now becoming her fantasy lover.

She opened her thighs, reaching out as he lowered himself onto the bed. He held her wrists and kissed her hard, relentlessly, and then he abandoned her mouth. Gentle kisses made a path down to the sensitive hollow above her collarbone. Goose bumps rose where he skimmed his lips over her skin.

"Look at me Elinor," he said, raising his head. Glassy, black marble eyes locked on her. "Tell me what you want."

"You, all of you, as much as I can get."

“Be sure.”

“I am.”

He slipped his hands under her buttocks, raised her hips and buried himself inside her. Basil pulled out and thrust into her again. She drifted to a place somewhere between intense pleasure and the need for release as he moved inside her.

The palms of her hands moved in wide strokes across his hard back, traveling down his spine. She felt a shiver ripple through him at her touch. She began to climb. He took her to the
top of a cliff, where she teetered so close, so very close. He withdrew and stayed her fall, only to rock his hips over hers till she cried out. "Please." He drove back into
her.
Her
nails marked his skin in tiny half moons where she gripped his shoulders. She closed her eyes and fell.

Her breath evened and they rolled over. With tender fingers he smoothed away the strands of hair that clung to her face. His hand made a slow arc over her thigh from the back of the knee up as he lowered his head and grazed her lips with a gentle kiss.

He laid her on her back. "I'll never willingly release you. Never. Even in your dreams." Poised above her, the flames from the candles made squares of light in his fathomless eyes. In their depths she saw his uncertainty. He doubted her acceptance of his passion.

She kissed his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose; she dotted his jaw with a dozen kisses and murmured, "Then don't."

He rolled over and pulled her close. Elinor used a length of her hair to tickle and tease his chest and navel.

"Cease your torment woman." The faint lines around his eyes crinkled as he laughed. "You shall make me forget the time and the dawn comes soon. We'll have another night, I promise you."

"You said you'd never willingly release me. Is that a promise?

He was silent for a long minute, then in a barely audible voice said, "Yes, and may God have mercy on my soul."

Elinor's eyes flew open; she bolted upright and scanned the room. The sky had just begun to grow light although the moon and stars shined low on the horizon. She picked the headset off the pillow and placed it on the nightstand, admonishing herself for not being able to keep it in her ears.

She shifted into a sitting position, fluffing her pillows behind her back and drew her knees up. Never had she dreamt such a realistic or erotic dream.

When the sun peeked over the horizon she went downstairs and started a pot of coffee. Guy appeared and sat at the table, with the London Times. Everyday he rummaged through the paper searching out lingerie ads. A few minutes later Basil came in. Heat instantly shot through her.

"You look especially lovely this morning," he said, with an innocent smile and brought his hand to her face. "Your cheeks have a very pretty blush to them. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, remarkably well, thank you." In a moment of panic she touched her lips, checking for swelling.

The five days since her dream had whizzed by. It was Thursday and she had a date with Jeremy. She told herself to keep an open mind. It wasn’t fair to judge him so hastily. Elinor stood at the dining room table silently repeating those words as she went through the day’s mail while Basil railed at her.

"You can't mean to see that bounder again. I've told you he's not your sort."

She’d hoped, apparently in vain, he had softened his opinion since their last discussion. "Basil, please don't start that talk again about him being base born, or a peasant, or whatever label you choose." She tipped her head back and blew out a frustrated puff of air. They'd been arguing all afternoon, since Basil found out Jeremy invited her to dinner. "I'm not breaking the date, period."

"Base born is not the issue. I believe that's something diligence and hard work can overcome, on the rare occasion-"

“I knew there’d be a caveat thrown in.” She tossed the mail down and she squared off with Basil.

"As I was saying, not everything can be so easily changed.” Basil pointed a finger at her, “He's--"

"He's what?” Elinor snapped, “Not an Earl. Not the darling of the court? What?"
"There's nothing I can say to convince you he is bad for you, is there?"

"Come up with something credible and I'll be convinced."

"You're not his." Basil's eyes had glittered with anger then flattened.

Did she read accusation and hurt in the charge, or did that interpretation stem from her own guilt and ambiguity? Elinor couldn’t say. The name Delilah resonated in a corner of her brain. A sense of disloyalty to Basil ate at her all week, illogical and troubling as it was to admit.

"No, I'm not his." I'm not anybody's, she thought. I've no one to read the paper with on Sunday mornings, no one to share a New Year’s kiss with, no one to give me a valentine. For those reasons, Jeremy deserved another chance.

"Basil, it’s only dinner. We're not intimate."

"It's none of my affair. Enjoy your evening." He said crisply, and then disappeared through the back door.

Elinor hurried up the stairs to shower and get ready. Jeremy was due in less than an hour and she wanted to be at the door when he pulled up.

Basil's vocal and adamant disapproval made his feelings clear. The argument had played and replayed a dozen times in her head, as she dressed. She didn't want this sore point between them, especially now. Ever since the night of the dream, Basil brought her roses, always the pale colored ones she favored. Every morning she awoke to find two or three beautiful blooms on the kitchen counter. The charming little gesture made her want to kiss him senseless. However, she also suspected he acquired them from the neighbor's garden.

When asked outright if he nicked them, the question was met with a dramatic wounded look and complete denial. Basil reiterated he was a knight, not a thief. She subsequently cast an inquiring eye toward Guy, who stared back with a wide-eyed face of innocence. Elinor dropped the subject. Some things a woman is better off not knowing.

Finished dressing, she stood in front of the mirror, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Her undefined emotions about Jeremy didn't help. Maybe tonight's date would ease her mind. Maybe she'd discover she really liked Jeremy and stop thinking about the dream.
Maybe pigs would fly
!

Jeremy drove up as she scurried out the door, locking it as he stepped from his car and walked over. He wore a black dress shirt and black jeans. The dark color complemented his light hair and made his smile even whiter and brighter. He greeted her with a long, deep, and wet, wet kiss.

"I'm sorry this has to be an early night. You've no idea how I missed you." He squeezed her shoulder hard ignoring Elinor's flinch as his fingers bruised the tender area under her collarbone.

"I've missed you too."

Liar
. Elinor hadn't thought of him, not in the way he expected. She tried to list his attributes in her mind. He’s attractive. He’s pleasant to talk to, intelligent and articulate. He’s--brutish. The adjective popped into her head as she absently rubbed the spot he’d hurt. The painful greeting didn’t endear him to her. She told herself to not condemn him by this incident. He’s used to handling heavy cuts of meat and might not realize his strength.

Perhaps he had a delightful sense of humor and she only needed to talk to him at length. "Could we have dinner someplace in the village? It’s close. Afterward we can go somewhere and chat for awhile." She wanted to bite her tongue afraid he'd interpret “go somewhere” meant his flat. She definitely wasn't ready to sleep with him.

"Actually, we’re going to a little place outside of town.” He kissed the palm of her hand, turned on the radio and started down the road opposite the village.

As they exited her driveway Elinor glanced back, half afraid she'd see Basil standing there and sighed aloud when he wasn't.

They arrived at the tiny, dark restaurant in about fifteen minutes. Jeremy held onto her waist or she'd have tripped several times. He chose the farthest booth with the least amount of light in the establishment. Their second date and both times he picked a remote table in a dim place. Their dinner was fine, the conversation constant. Jeremy liked to talk. The humor and charm Elinor hoped for didn’t emerge, in spite of his loquaciousness.

There'd been a minute when she questioned her excellent memory. She'd asked him where in the Yorkshire Dales he planned to go with his mother.

"Yorkshire Dales?" His expression was blank.

"You said you were going there with her this weekend."

"Sorry, you're right. I guess I put the trip out of my mind. I'm not looking forward to it. Bound to be bored senseless. It'll be two days of following her around, while my mother finds fault with every house she sees." He rolled his eyes, his lips curving into a tiny smile as he checked his watch. "Let’s leave."

His speed taking her home bordered on reckless. The country road was pitch black and filled with tight bends and turns. More than a little frightened, she shut her eyes twice when the rear end of his car fishtailed on a curve. Her fear grew the closer they got to her house and Basil. She tried to occupy her mind by making small talk. He kept his answers brief while his hands were anything but quiet.

Jeremy steered with one hand and stroked her thigh with the other. She wasn’t enjoying the attention. He was getting closer and closer to the juncture between her legs with each stroke. She didn’t care for his assumption, although she shouldn’t be surprised according to Lucy. She moved his hand away and laid it on his thigh.

Jeremy chuckled and swiftly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He dragged her hand over and pressed her palm against his crotch. Caught in his firm grip he forced her to rub him through his jeans, until the zipper strained under his erection.

“Stop it!” Elinor tried to pull her hand away.

Moments earlier, she’d been afraid of Jeremy’s driving. Now her fear ratcheted up another notch and had nothing to do with his driving.

Elinor turned as much as possible in the seat and tried again to tug her hand free of his grasp, to no avail.

"Let go!" The words were no sooner off her lips when the car stopped in front of her house and she jerked her hand free.

Thank God.

She unbuckled the seatbelt and grabbed her purse, one foot on the ground before she opened the door all the way. She pushed off the seat using it to give herself added impetus, and bounded out of the car toward the house. He caught her at the waist and spun her around just as she reached the steps. His chest firm against hers, Elinor stumbled backwards until her back hit the exterior wall. Jeremy raised his free hand and laid it flat on the wall, blocking any escape. The masonry was cold and rough through her thin blouse as he pressed closer.