Lords of Darkness and Shadow (46 page)

He cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “How do I know you will tell me the truth? You could say that you have valuable information and after I let your lover go, you could have nothing at all. It could be a lie simply to obtain his release.”

She shook her head. “I am honorable,” she insisted. “I would not lie to you.”

He didn’t want to insult her integrity by disagreeing with her; something about the woman made him believe completely that she would never lie to him. If he was a good judge of character, and he was, he was inclined to believe that she wasn’t the type. His life often depended upon who he could and could not trust. He believed he could trust her word.

“What if you return from de Cleveley and have no valuable information to tell me?” he wanted to know. “What then?”

She sighed faintly. “If I have no valuable information upon my return, I ask that you let me see the captives regardless,” she said softly. “If Trevor is alive, then I ask that you allow me to be in captivity with him. It is a small thing to ask, I think. You would have us both remain captives.”

Devlin didn’t like that answer at all and immediately shook his head. “If you return to me with no valuable information, then you will not see the English captives and you will never know if your lover is among them. You will remain my prize and the English captives will be my slaves. There is no other recourse.”

Emllyn was going to argue with him but thought better of it. She could agree to the terms and perhaps in time, change his mind.
Be compliant!
Perhaps someday she would see the English captives; perhaps one day they would all be freed. She would not give up hope.

“As you say,” she murmured, lowering her gaze.

Devlin could hear defeat in her voice and he struggled not to react to it, one way or the other. She was very proud, he could tell. She was also stubborn. Then, again, so was he. He realized he saw many of his own qualities in his captive. They were qualities to respect. 

He moved to within a foot or so of her, lingering close and watching her instinctively flinch. He didn’t like it when she flinched from him but he knew why; he’d only shown her aggression and dominance since they had first met. All she had ever known was being ravaged by him. Although the man had never known a strong sense of regret, he thought he might be coming to feel something close to it. Crouching his bulk down, he met her on her own level.

“Then we have a bargain?” he asked.

Emllyn looked at him, the man’s smooth skin and intelligent features. It suddenly occurred to her that he was a handsome man, although the thought just as quickly shocked her. The man was her captor, a barbarian and worse - he was an Irish rebel, the beating heart of the resistance that had kept her brother frustrated and occupied. But he was also ruggedly and beautifully handsome, like a wild horse that refuses to be tamed. The way he was looking at her made her heartbeat quicken, just a little.

“We do,” she whispered. “But how will I get to de Cleveley’s encampment? I do not know where to go.”

Devlin was watching the way the firelight glowed against her face. “I will take you there myself,” he said. “I will watch over you to make sure you make it safely to their fortress. In fact, I may send one of my men with you as an escort. He will also help you return to Black Castle when the time is right.”

Emllyn’s gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she averted it and looked to her hands. There was an odd pull she was beginning to feel, something unexpected and unsettling. His eyes were a vortex with which to suck her in and she averted her gaze purely out of surprise more than anything. Her heart was beating faster now and her palms were sweating, and it had nothing to do with fear or intimidation. It had everything to do with him, as a man.
Oh, God, she was going crazy
!

“When do I go?” she asked softly.

Devlin felt the pull between them, too. He also felt a jolt when she tore her gaze away, a jolt that left him with a rapidly beating heart. He almost couldn’t catch his breath. So he stood up and moved away from her in order to reclaim his composure.

“I am not certain,” he said. “In a day or two. I must make plans and then we shall move forward with them.”

Emllyn simply nodded her head, unwilling to look up at him again because she was fearful that the strange pull would start again and she might not be able to break away from it. She’d never known anything like it, not even with Trevor.
Trevor!
Her thoughts drifted to him once again.

“Until such time as you move forward with your plans, where am I to be kept?” she asked. “In this chamber?”

Devlin nodded as he looked around the room. “It is the most comfortable chamber in the keep, and probably the entire castle,” he said. “The floor is not dirt but stone and planking. You will be comfortable here.”

Emllyn lifted her head, daring to look at him. “Where are the other English prisoners kept?”

His expression seemed to harden. “In the vault,” he said. “Deep in the stone.”

“What do you mean?”

That strange pull was starting again and he struggled to ignore it, but the longer he gazed into that lovely face, the stronger the pull became.

“Trust me when I say it is not a pleasant place,” he said.

“Since I am a prisoner, you should put me there.”

“You are better off here.”

Emllyn was feeling the pull so strongly that she almost couldn’t reply. She had to think hard on forming a sentence.

“Here?” she repeated. “In your chamber? For mercy’s sake, shouldn’t you move me to another chamber so I will not be caged here… with you?”

He lifted a well-defined eyebrow. “I told you before that you belong to me,” he said. “That means you will be caged here in my chamber, with me, because that act alone will preserve your personal safety. Do you realize how many men want to kill you simply for being English? You have a great many enemies in this castle, my lady. Rather than look upon me as your jailor, I would suggest you look upon me as your protector.”

Emllyn was feeling warm and giddy, an odd sensation really. She’d never felt that way before but it had something to do with the way he moved his mouth. She looked at it and remembered how it kissed her. She’s never felt anything like it in her life, a warm and soft thing. But it also occurred to her that she shouldn’t feel that way about him; the man had stolen her innocence and had acted brutally towards her. He was nothing more than a barbarian. 

…then why could she only remember the pleasure?

“A protector who has taken what is most precious to me,” she said, lowering her gaze. She spoke before she could stop herself, a rage igniting in her. “A protector who has forced himself upon me twice. That is not what a protector does. A protector would keep me safe from harm, which you have not done.”

Devlin could feel himself stiffen to her accusations. Deep down, he knew she was right to a certain extent, but he didn’t see it that way. He wasn’t used to anyone questioning his behavior or actions, and it didn’t sit well with him.

“I did not harm you,” he countered. “There are no bruises upon you. You are not bleeding, nor did I break any bones. I would be careful what you accuse me of.”

Her head shot up. “What I
accuse
you of?” she repeated, incredulous. “Then what you would call it?”

His eyes glittered but he held himself in check, like a coiled snake before it strikes. “I would call it victory,” he said simply. “I took what belonged to me.
You
belong to me.”

Emllyn met his gaze a moment longer before looking away, disgusted. “Then you are not my protector,” she said. “Call me what I am – a prisoner, and you are my jailor. A protector is someone who is gallant and chivalrous, which you have not been. You did not like it when I called you an animal; mayhap you should not act like one if you wish for me to reform my opinion.”

He was rebuked. Fighting off the urge to bellow at her, Devlin stared at her a good, long moment before sighing sharply. He was resisting the strong impulse to throw her down on the bed and punish her, but in that same thought, he realized it wasn’t punishment as much as it was simply a very strong desire to bed her. There was so much emotion and confusion rolling around in his chest that his hands began to quiver. Why didn’t he just take her and be done with it? She belonged to him, didn’t she?...
didn’t she?

Jesus
… what was happening to him?

“For a woman who sailed to Ireland on an invasion fleet, you have little right to accuse me of being an animal,” he muttered. “Your brother has slaughtered thousands of Irish and taken thousands more as slaves, and he justifies his actions because he believes Lord Justice of Ireland gives him that right. The English in general slaughter Scots and Welsh by the thousands because they covet their lands. How are the English any less animals than I am?”

Emllyn stared at the fire. “My brother does not steal the innocence of women he claims to be protecting.”

“So this is all about me, is it? I am the worst rebel there is and your brother is a saint?”

She shook her head. “I did not say he was a saint,” he said. “But he has as much right to these lands as you do. They belonged to my grandfather and his father before him.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Devlin broke from his stance near the bed and swooped in on her, grasping her by the arms and yanking her up from the stool. He had her trapped up against his massive chest, his eyes blazing at her.

“Your grandfather’s father stole lands from my family,” he snarled. “They do not belong to any Englishman. They belong to Ireland and if God is merciful, I will soon restore them to my people. Never again lecture me about brutality and conquest because, my lady, your people have done far worse than I could ever hope to achieve.”

Gazing up into Devlin’s angry blue eyes, Emllyn began to feel some fear. Not the pure, abject terror she had felt earlier, but a deeper-seated fear. She was afraid of him, but not for obvious reasons. She wasn’t afraid that he was going to kill her; she knew enough about the man that she knew he would not. She was afraid of what he was going to do to her and of how he made her feel while doing it. It began to occur to her that perhaps she was afraid of herself because she liked it.

“So you will punish them now by ravaging me again?” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “What kind of man takes out his frustrations on the weak and helpless?”

Devlin didn’t answer her; he was too furious to. But he was also consumed by the feel and smell of her, something that instantly aroused him. She was provoking him; he could sense it. She was being reckless with her words, reckless to the point of punishment and as he gazed into her eyes, he could see a tumult of emotion that matched whatever he thought he was feeling, too. He didn’t like it one bit. For a man perpetually in control, he didn’t like the thought of being unable to control whatever it was he felt for her. If he even felt anything at all. Perhaps all he felt was lust and nothing more.

Devlin’s mouth came down on Emllyn’s, so hard that he drove her teeth into her soft gum. He was kissing her with something short of fury; there was passion and lust and angst there, feelings that made him pull her more tightly against him. He could taste her blood as he sucked her lips, vaguely aware that she was fighting him. She was trying to pull away but he would not let her. The next he realized, she was in his arms and together they fell on the bed.

Devlin could hear Emllyn weeping softly, begging him to do… something. Or not do something. He wasn’t listening. His mouth moved down her neck to the exposed cleavage and he grabbed the arms that were trying to push him away, trapping them above her head.  With her arms trapped, he began to fumble with his breeches, pulling them down as he lifted her heavy skirts. Emllyn’s legs were thrashing about and he wedged himself in between them so she could hardly move. His hand, now roaming free, could feel the moist heat between her legs and he inserted two big fingers into her, listening to her groan.

“You are not weak and you are certainly not helpless,” he breathed as he suckled her tender neck. “Do you feel me inside of you? This is where I will take my pleasure with you and where you will bear my sons. Already, I am making way for my seed and you shall accept it, do you hear? You shall accept it and you shall bear me a son.”

He thrust into her with his fingers, mimicking what he would soon be doing with his large, throbbing member. Emllyn’s weeping had ceased for the most part and now she gasped every time he thrust his fingers into her tight, wet heat. He would have liked to have tasted her but he didn’t want to get kicked in the head, so he settled for touching her. He liked the feel of her. It wasn’t long before he could feel her body start to quiver, the beginnings of her release of ecstasy, so he quickly removed his fingers and thrust long and hard into her as her body was overcome with a climax.

Devlin could feel her body convulsing around him as he pounded into her yielding form. She was so very hot and wet, her cries filling the air until he put a big hand into her mouth and she bit off her screams. A hand snaked under the shift and he found her breasts, pinching the nipples and feeling her twitch. He was so highly aroused that he released himself far sooner than he had hoped, spilling deep and feeling his hot seed mingle with her wet heat. It was the most glorious thing he had ever known. Exhausted, spent, he collapsed on top of her.