Rage and Redemption (Rebel Angels) (2 page)

“I do not share my favors, sir. There are women in the village who are willing to…accommodate your needs.”

“What would you know of my needs?”

He sounded odd, as if she had struck some dark, painful chord within him. Naomi’s chest tightened and her heart pounded. “Nothing, my lord. I meant only to make clear that I am not a harlot.”

He released her hand and moved in closer. Pressing his palms against the wall, he caged her with his body. “I would have your name, damsel.”

Fear welled within Naomi but she tried not to panic. The scriptorium was high in a stone tower, secluded and isolated. “Please, my lord. I didn’t mean to anger you.” She spoke in a calm, even tone.

“I am not angry.”

But he looked angry. His golden eyes glittered with determination and the set of his jaw seemed dangerous. He was tall and broad, strong and menacing.

“Who are you?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes searching.

“No one of consequence.” She pushed against his chest, shocked by the inflexibility of his flesh. “Let me go.”

He smiled slowly, provocatively. “I think not on both accounts.”

Gideon stared down into the woman’s bright blue eyes and felt his fangs lengthen. He quickly closed his mouth, unwilling to reveal his true nature. He was hungry, but it had been many weeks since he’d sought the comfort of a woman’s embrace. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to penetrate her throat with his fangs or feel her feminine core tighten around his cock.

Perhaps he could have both.

He wrapped his arms around her slender form, pressing her against his chest. She instinctively arched and shoved. This only aligned their lower bodies more intimately. Her eyes widened and the scent of fear exploded in his nose.

“Be still,” he commanded with his dark voice and the flash of his eyes.

She went limp in his arms. Her eyes drifting shut and Gideon chuckled. He hadn’t meant the compulsion to be quite so powerful. Her head lolled back into the bend of his elbow, exposing her neck and ending his mental debate. He would feed first and then draw her back to awareness as he slowly seduced her senses.

Burying his face in her throat, he inhaled her scent. She smelled fresh and feminine with faint traces of fear and—arousal? Gideon parted his lips and stroked his tongue along her jugular, feeling the rhythmic pounding, the power and life. Intoxicated by her scent, it took him a moment to recognize the subtle sweetness of her taste.

Innocence.

With careful restraint, he pricked her skin with his fangs and then quickly withdrew. He savored the rich complexity of her blood. His heart hammered as her nature revealed itself to him. She was pure of heart. Selfless, devoted and true.

Dark hunger slashed through Gideon and he groaned. The age-old battle within his spirit raged out of control, driving the breath from his body and the strength from his legs. He sank to his knees, maintaining his hold on the woman.

The shriveled remnants of his goodness surged to life, reaching for her, crying out to her. But the evil in him was just as strong. He wanted her as he had never wanted anything or anyone. He threw back his head and roared. Anguish and fury saturated the sound. He longed to drown in her innocence, to gorge on her goodness until…until she was corrupted or dead?

Unsteady and shaken, he sat down on the wood-planked floor and pulled her into his lap, cradling her in his arms like a child. His hand trembled as he brushed the hair back from her face. She looked no different than other humans. Still, something about her held him back. His dark nature demanded that he use her to sate this raw, burning hunger, but he couldn’t seem to move.

She shifted within his arms and slowly opened her eyes.

Fear erupted again. He could smell its acrid stench, hear its relentless pounding, taste its bitterness—but it had never been repulsive before.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I frightened you. You fainted.”

“I have never fainted.” She sounded affronted as she sat up in his lap. She squirmed a bit and then went very still, her hand splayed in the center of his chest.

Her long chestnut hair was tousled, a stray wisp curled against her cheek. She stared up at him with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and Gideon knew he would not ravish her. Seduction, on the other hand, was still a very real possibility.

“Did you pretend to faint so I’d take you in my arms?”

Her eyes lit with indignation and Gideon smiled, his hunger controlled again, at least for the present.

“Why would I need such a ploy?”

“Because you’re not yet ready to admit you want me, even to yourself.”

She laughed and the hand resting against his chest began to push. “Are you always so arrogant?”

He couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Her rounded bottom was doing cruel things to him, yet he ached with the need to touch her. Taste her. “Kiss me and I’ll release you.”
If you still want to be released once my mouth is moving upon yours.

Naomi felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden. “I shall scream and you’ll be forced to let me go.”

“Forced by whom? This chamber is far from the domestic range. We are quite alone.”

She didn’t move, could scarcely breathe.

Brushing his warm fingers against her cheek, he tucked a curl behind her ear. “Let me taste your mouth. I only want a taste.”

She rubbed her palm against his chest, fascinated by the unyielding shape beneath the soft material. Why was she still sitting here? He wasn’t really restraining her.

This man was the personification of her darkest fantasies, the elusive, mysterious something that other people whispered about. He was potent, powerful and yet incomprehensible.

His mouth covered hers, driving all rational thought from her mind. She felt the heated slide of his lips and trembled. She felt the sensual glide of his tongue and groaned. His mouth moved over and against hers, his tongue touched and tasted.

She found his sleek hair and sank her fingers into the cool strands. His fingers were in her hair too. She felt his hand close into a fist, carefully controlling her. He tilted her head and his mouth fit more tightly over hers, guiding her lips farther apart.

She accepted the bold thrust of his tongue with a little gasp. Overwhelmed and intoxicated, she felt completely out of control. He was taking too much, moving too fast. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only yield to his passion.

Fear found its way through the haze as he deepened the kiss. He was aggressive now, demanding, his mouth plundering the depths of hers. Naomi shoved against his chest and tore her mouth away.

“More, Naomi, give me more,” he growled.

His arms tightened, dragging her flush against his chest. Naomi turned her face away as his words registered. “You called me Naomi.”

“Is there some other name you’d prefer?”

His mouth moved to the underside of her jaw and slid along her throat. Shoving hard against his chest, she tried to think, to understand what he was doing to her. He had demanded her name, but she hadn’t told him.

Scrambling off his lap, she scurried to the other side of the chamber. “How do you know my name?”

For a moment he sat there staring at her over his shoulder. Then in one fluid motion, he stood and stalked toward her. “You told me your name.”

She felt compelled to look at him, to stare into his eyes, but she quickly averted her gaze. “Nay, sir, I did not.”

He stood directly across the table from her. It was no real protection. He could easily shove it aside. She sneaked a glance at his face. He was looking at the manuscript page, his expression inscrutable.

“Where will I find Gabriel?”

His voice softly demanded the information and Naomi felt the urge to blurt out his location. “What do you want with Brother Gabriel?”

“Where will I find him?”

He looked up and their gazes locked before she dragged hers away. Naomi felt hot and then cold. “I’ve no idea. You need to inquire with the castellan. His name is Brother Aaron.”

Suddenly he was beside her, his palms framing her face, and Naomi had no choice but to meet his penetrating stare. “What is Gabriel to you?”

She struggled against the need to tell him every detail of her relationship with Brother Gabriel. Keeping her mouth firmly closed, Naomi fought the bizarre compulsion. Never would she do anything that would endanger her mentor and closest friend, but the need to speak became overwhelming.

“He is a member of the Holy Order of St. John. Surely you knew that before you came here.”

“What is he to
you
?”

Stubbornly closing her eyes, she allowed Brother Gabriel’s kind, serene face to form within her mind, driving back the dark compulsion. “Why have you detained me?”

“Because you’re lying.” His hand slid down along her jaw, his thumb stroking back and forth across her bottom lip.

A hot, golden haze burned through her mind, consuming the image of Brother Gabriel. Naomi’s eyes flew open. It was as if he were controlling images inside her head.

“You lied about being a scribe. You lied about Gabriel. You not only know where he is, but he is important to you. What is the connection?”

Someone had to end the stalemate. Although he could easily find out about her, his identity and purpose would be far harder to learn. “Brother Gabriel is the nearest thing to a father I have ever known. He is a friend and mentor. What is he to you?”

“Gabriel is my brother.” With an enigmatic smile he turned and left the room.

She stared after him for a long moment, her mind filled with questions. If the stranger’s claim was true, why had Gabriel never mentioned having a brother? Was the stranger a mercenary or had he come simply to visit Gabriel? His interest seemed almost…menacing.

How had he known her name?

An odd combination of fear and excitement pulsed through her entire body. She had never met a man who made her tingle with just the intensity of his gaze.

She must tell Brother Gabriel a man claiming to be his brother had arrived at the Krak des Chevaliers, but he was in the chapel attending Vespers. As she should have been, she realized with a small, rebellious smile.

It was all so very strange.

She turned her attention back to the manuscript page, determined to banish thoughts of the stranger from her mind. His striking features refused to stay suppressed. With a helpless sigh, she reached for a scrap of vellum and began to sketch.

* * * * *

Naomi angled her sketch of the stranger toward the lamplight and felt heat spread across her cheeks. Just his image caused her senses to respond. It was ridiculous.

“I missed you at Vespers,” Brother Gabriel said from somewhere behind her. “What kept you so occupied that you neglected your evening prayers?”

Carefully keeping the scrap of vellum turned away, Naomi pivoted on the stool and offered her warmest smile. “Adam and Eve. Well, mostly Adam.”

Brother Gabriel chuckled and Naomi tried to release the tension gripping her abdomen. She studied her mentor with new interest as he crossed the scriptorium. There was nothing she didn’t know about this man or so she’d believed until a short time ago.

He wore a long-sleeved black robe emblazoned with the distinctive white cross identifying him as a member of the elite Order of St. John of Jerusalem. Naomi felt proud to be part of such an important order. The Knights of St. John had been serving Western pilgrims as they traveled through the
Holy Land
for well over a century. One of their grandest accomplishments had been building a hospital in the heart of
Jerusalem
. Now members of the order were often called Knights Hospitaller.