KNIGHT OF SECRETS (Knights of Passion Series 2) (3 page)

His dark eyes were narrowed, concentrating, and when she cried out in her ecstasy, he let go of the hold he had on himself, thrusting deep within her and giving a deep, low groan of satisfaction.

For a moment they were still, his head resting on her shoulder, her arms loosely holding him. The pleasure began to fade, leaving her wondering if she had done something incredibly foolish. If her brother were to find out, if Sir Jerome were to discover she was no longer a virgin . . . But she reminded herself that it wasn’t her maidenhood they cared about, it was her fortune.

Hadden had lifted his head and was watching her. He smiled, and there was a catch in her chest, as if a dart had struck her heart. “I am lost for words, my lady,” he said, and kissed her temple, letting his lips trail down her cheek. “You are beyond perfection.”

She felt the blush warm in her cheeks.

His mouth grazed lazily across her skin, little nips and kisses, and then, when he reached her breasts, his tongue made leisurely circles around her nipples. She felt herself growing eager again, wishing he would move faster, bring her to her climax once more, but he seemed determined to take his time.

“This is for me,” he laughed, when she complained. “I am making memories for myself this time, Edwina.”

She wondered why he would need memories like this. Surely there were women aplenty for him? But she let him take his time, moving down her body with lips and tongue, and crying out when his mouth closed on her little pearl, sucking until she could hardly bear to be touched. And then he nudged his cock—so hard and thick—inside her and kept going until he filled her completely.

This time she was able to enjoy the act without fear of pain and she moved with him, learning quickly, shifting slightly so that his shaft brushed against her pearl and caused a tingle of pleasure each time. Growing and growing until suddenly he lost all control and she held him as they cried out together.

After that they slept, warm and safe together, in the depths of the bed. The candle burned down to nothing and outside the Scots’ voices were muted and far away. Once, in the night, he got up and went downstairs. To see to his horse, he whispered, when he returned.

His body was chilled and she wrapped her arms around him to warm him, and that led to kisses and caresses, and soon he was taking her again, making her cry out with the joy of it. Edwina didn’t want to think of the night ending; she didn’t want the real world to intrude on this wonderful interlude
.

She was still trying to catch her breath when suddenly he looked down at her and said, “I’m hungry.”

***

Edwina had made a thick and hearty soup some days ago and now she swung the pot over the flames and began to heat it. She added some of the sorrel she had gathered this afternoon, to give it flavour. The room was smoky and close, but better than outside in the snow in the dark. At least they were warm and safe here.

Safe? Was she safe? Had the spell really brought this man to her or was it sheer coincidence that he’d arrived with the Scots? She didn’t want to think about the future, how it would feel when he was gone and she was alone again. Already she felt so comfortable with him he might have been a part of her.

Edwina glanced sideways at
Hadden. He was standing by a tapestry that her brother had brought with him from home, after their father was killed. It was one of the fine things that used to hang on their walls. There were others but most of them had been sold. Her brother was constantly in debt and she thought that was the reason why her father had made her his heir. That and the indisputable fact that she was his favourite.

“Why are you here all alone?” he asked.

“My brother and his family are in Carlyle and the servants went to the village to attend a wedding. I did not wish to go but I said they could. They were due back two days ago but the weather prevented them returning.”

“And you are not lonely? Don’t you wish for company?”

“No. At least, not for their company. I was happy once but not now. And soon, when I marry Sir Jerome . . .” Her mouth turned down but she tightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. These were not things he needed to hear and nor did she wish to think of them.

“Do you think the Scots are like us?” he said.

“Like us?” She opened her mouth to tell him they were devils with no feelings at all and then paused. That wasn’t true. “Some of them are brutal and violent,” she said tentatively, “but then so are the English. And I knew a family of Scots who lived close to my father’s house on the border. I was friends with the youngest daughter. It is King John who has stirred this animosity among the people of the north.”

He was silent a moment and then he nodded. “You are generous and wise, lady. I do not think I would be so generous with my enemies.” 

She smiled at him over her shoulder and saw he was watching her as she stirred the soup. When it was nearly ready she arranged two bowls to warm on the hearth and fetched some of the hard bread that was all that was left. It would have to do. The servants would be bringing some food back with them but until they arrived this was all Edwina had. The basket with its remaining greens and berries was emptied and the fresh food set out on a platter, arranged as if it was a feast fit for a king.

Hadden
eyed it warily.

“I know what is safe,” she assured him. “You will not be poisoned. See?” And she picked up a dock leaf and chewed it before swallowing. He picked up something similar and nibbled it, not looking as if he was enjoying it particularly. Edwina popped a red berry into her mouth and smiled. His eyes followed her movement, lingering on her lips, and his eyes darkened.

“Why were you going to Carlyle?” she asked him.

“Business for my . . . father,” he said.

“What business?” She wondered why he had hesitated.

“Private business.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” she said, curious and a little irritated. “You know all about me. We have nothing else to do, have we, but to talk and stay warm?”

Something in his face changed. Already she recognised that look and her heart began to beat faster.

“There are many ways we can pass the time,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I have not even begun yet.”

She jutted up her chin, half teasing. “You said you were hungry.”

“There are many forms of hunger, Edwina,” he said, but he did not move toward her, and when she filled the bowls with soup and broke some crusty bread, he sat down at the table and took a spoonful. “This is good.”

They ate a moment in silence and Edwina found she was hungry too.

“What will happen to you if you do not marry Sir Jerome?” Hadden asked. “Would you prefer to stay a spinster in your brother’s household?”

“No.
Of course not. My brother hates me, and his wife takes his lead.”

“So it is best if you marry and move away?”

“I would be the wife of Sir Jerome. I don’t want that either. Why have I only these two choices?” she asked him, her frustration clear in her voice and expression. “Why can’t I do what I want to do? Why must I always be
told
what to do?”

“It seems a waste,” he said carefully, breaking his bread into smaller pieces. “A beautiful and clever woman wasted on a man who will never appreciate her.”

Edwina raised an eyebrow. He was flattering her but it was sweet to hear his words even if she didn’t entirely believe them. Or perhaps she had just become sanguine.

“I would appreciate you,” he added boldly.

She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “And how would you show that appreciation, Hadden?”

He took a spoon of the soup and chewed thoughtfully, but his eyes gleamed seductively, and she felt pleasure brush over her skin, sensitizing it, making her imagine his touch upon her again. So different from the mauling she was going to get from Sir Jerome.

“I would bring you pleasure, lady,” he said simply. “Much pleasure.”

She tried not to shiver but the tips of her breasts began to tingle and the bud between her legs began to ache. “And then what? I could not live by pleasure alone.”

“Why not?” he retorted arrogantly. “But you are right, there must be more. Hmm, I would buy you beautiful clothing and you would live in a fine house with fine things about you. Certainly you would eat fine meals, no berries or weeds,” he added, with a look askance at the platter she had placed before him. “You’d be waited on hand and foot.”

Edwina thought about this as she ate. “That sounds very nice,” she said evenly, “but I would be bored, I think.”

He looked surprised, and she hid a smile.

“I am used to keeping busy,” she explained. “I would not like to sit about while others made decisions for me. At my father’s house I was allowed to share in discussions with his steward. I played my part in the running of the house and he listened to me. He gave me an allowance and control over it.”

“Ah.” He smiled a smile that made him even more handsome. “Even better. In my house you could make your own decisions and be the ruler of your own destiny. How would that suit you?”

Was he serious? Of course not, she reminded herself. This was only a game, a bit of play-acting to pass the time, and although she enjoyed the fantasy it made her sad to know it could never be real.

He was watching her with that narrowed look, and she forced herself to smile at him.

“It would suit me very well indeed,” she agreed.

Hadden reached over to her and brushed his fingers against her own. “We would have children of course,” he said firmly, as if it was already decided. “I need children to come after me.”

“And would you love them too?” she asked curiously. “My father had children, but apart from me, he did not love them particularly. They were useful; they were necessary, but he did not love them for their own sakes.”

Hadden chewed his bread before he answered her. “I would love them,” he said, his voice confident. “My father loved me and I do not see why I should be any different.”

Edwina couldn’t help but smile at him. He was a charming man. It was just a shame that soon he would be gone and all she would have left were memories.

I must not be greedy,
she reminded herself.
The memories will be fine ones, and I will use them whenever Sir Jerome makes me unhappy or I long to be free.

Perhaps Sir Jerome would die before her? She knew he planned to make war on the king, he and the other wealthy landowning barons in the north of England. King John was a sly and dangerous man. Sir Jerome might meet his match there . . .

Hadden caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Edwina’s thoughts splintered as he drew her to her feet only to tug her around to his side of the table and pull her down onto his lap. He kissed her.

Just for a moment she let herself believe his words were truth, that they really were married and in love and it was forever. Edwina wound her arms about his neck and kissed him back, taking his tongue into her mouth and tasting him with wild abandon. He stood up and pushed aside the bowls, spilling one, pressing her against the table top and pulling up her skirts.

His voice in her ear was soft and wicked. “This time, lady, I will show you how a husband ravishes his wife at the supper table.”

Before she could answer his hands were on her thighs, stroking the soft flesh, and then he was nuzzling against her rounded bottom. His fingers slid into her cleft, brushing over her hard nub, and she groaned and opened her legs wider for him, forgetting everything in her body’s need for his.

His body was warm and heavy against her back, and then his cock pressed against her, sliding against her slick skin, applying just the amount of pressure she needed. Edwina held her breath, sure that in a moment she would reach that wonderful place again, but this time he stopped. Denying her.

“
Hadden,” she wailed.

He chuckled, moving again, bringing her to the peak and again denying her.

“Hadden!” this time it was a muffled scream.

His cock pressed to her opening and slid inside, going deep, and he reached down and stroked her bud with his fingers, holding her outer lips apart so that he had full access to her.

Edwina pressed back against him, standing on her toes so that he could enter her more fully, her fingers clenched on the table. She wondered if this grim household had ever seen such lewd behaviour before and knew it hadn’t. She felt free, wonderfully free, and unrestrained.

“Will you come with me and live in my house?” he whispered in her
ear, and thrust again, driving her against the solid table. “Will you leave behind this place and come with me, lady?”

“Oh yes,” she wailed, as the pleasure grabbed her and pulled her toward that wonderful place. “Yes, yes,
Hadden, I will go with you.”

Even as she said it, her mind was reminding her that this wasn’t real. It was the fantasy, the game they were playing.

And then he tipped her over the edge and her body clenched around him, milking him, making him groan as he thrust erratically into her and then lay heavy against her, panting.

It was a moment before she realised there were loud voices at the door.
Hadden heard them too; she felt him stiffen, and then he stood up and fixed his clothing, drawing Edwina’s skirts back over her bottom and legs, smoothing them down in a manner that said much for his tender nature.