The Spymaster's Protection (23 page)

He’d thought of her having to leave all that was familiar to
her, her home, her friends, her personal things, just to be safe from a man who
should have cherished her and protected her.

He’d never purchased anything for a woman before, but for this
woman he thought he just might want to purchase the world. It was a small
thing, and he was enormously glad that she chose to accept it and wear it. He
wondered, too what it looked like on her. It had seemed pretty enough when he’d
chosen it, all soft and gauzy and lacey.

He’d certainly had no trouble imagining her in it when he’d
seen it.

Pushing slowly to his feet, he walked to the doorway where she
stood, admiring how lovely she looked backlit by the candlelight from her room.
It glowed around her like a halo.

“De Ridefort is leaving tonight to put together a force of
some kind to intercept the Saracen envoy on the morrow,” he answered her,
wanting very badly to wrap her in his arms and simply hold her against him.

“Are you going?”

“I was not allowed to go with them.”

Gabrielle stared up at him with relief plainly written on her
beautiful face. “Good. It is a stupid thing to do!”

Lucien chuckled. “That is more or less the opinion I conveyed
to de Ridefort.” The scent of orange blossoms and something slightly spicy
clung to her, tantalizing his senses and engulfing him in a wave of pleasure.

With her head tilted back, Gabrielle studied his expression.
It was obvious that the evening had been distressful for him. It made her want
to take him in her arms and comfort him.

“Gérard de Ridefort is a vain, hypocritical, pig-headed, old
bastard,” she proclaimed vehemently. “And he smells like moldy old goatskin! It
must be that he never bathes or changes those lambs’ wool drawers Templars
wear.”

Lucien stared at her and dissolved into a fit of laughter. It
was several long moments before he could contain his amusement enough to speak
again. When he did, his eyes were filled with tears of mirth.

“God’s mercy, lady!” he croaked. “Where did you hear about the
smelly lambs’ wool drawers Templars wear?”

“Well,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You only have to
stand next to most of them to know bathing is not something they do often, you
being the exception, of course. And I have overheard Reynald joking about the
fact that Templars are never allowed to change out of their lambs’ wool
drawers. Is it so?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he chuckled again, thinking he could not
recall the last time he had laughed so hard. By the Virgin, this woman was good
for him!

“I take it, you do not abide by the practice?”

“I cannot have the enemy smell me a mile away, now, can I? How
would I be able to spy on them otherwise? Besides, I am half Saracen, as I was
reminded tonight. The Arabs are fastidious bathers. Their army camps are free
of all the disease that riddles our own.”

“I have heard that, also. Mayhap, we will eventually learn
something from them.”

“Let’s hope so.” Lucien saw her look nervously into the dimly
lit room behind him. “Shall we go into your room? I had planned to keep vigil
in there tonight again, anyway.”

Gabrielle was relieved. She did not want to fall asleep alone
after the other night’s attack. Before she heard him come upstairs tonight, she
had kept both doors locked and all the candles burning.

As a result, her room was very brightly lit. Lucien asked her
if he could extinguish some of the candles, and she nodded. “Sleep on the bed,
the way you did last night,” she suggested to him as he went to the
uncomfortable high-backed chair near the bed. “You cannot rest in that.”

He stared at her for a long deliberating moment. Last night
had not been easy, lying next to her while she slept, but he had to be up at
dawn. If he slept in the chair tonight, he would be stiff and sore and
exhausted, and he feared he had a long and difficult day ahead of him tomorrow.

When she saw that he was not going to argue, she quickly
climbed up onto the bed with her robe on, sat up against the mound of pillows,
then tucked the bedcovers snuggly all around her. As soon as she was completely
settled, she patted the space beside her. “Grab the blanket on the chair,” she
instructed him with a smile so full of innocence and beauty it stunned him.

Unable to deny himself the pleasure of her nearness, he eased
onto the bed and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. He
had already removed his dusty boots and heavier Templar surcoat and mantle.
After giving his monastic garb to Brother Conrad, he was dressed simply in hose
and thin linen undertunic.

Gabrielle turned to him with a worried frown. “I overheard a
terrible thing tonight. Were you stripped of habit by the Grand Master?”

“Aye.”

“What does it mean?”

“It is a punishment within the Order that removes all status
and privileges.” He refrained from telling her about the other consequences
such as eating off the floor, being flogged, and taken back in irons.

“Oh, Lucien, no!”

Despite the large width of the bed, she was still within arm’s
length; close enough for him to smell the bewitching scent she wore and feel
the heat of her deliciously long supple body. He was enthralled by the deep
concern in her luminescent blue eyes. It was all for him, and it soothed his
lingering anger and frustration immensely.

“Is it because you are here with me? How did the man know your
room was next to mine anyway?”

“He probably learned of our room assignments from a servant.
And this is not because of you… not entirely,” he reassured her. Feeling
compelled to touch her in some way to ease her distress, he took her hand. The
gesture made her angle sideways to fully face him. It brought her and her
delicious scent closer. Lucien took in a long draught of it before he
continued. “While de Ridefort seeks to place blame on you, it is truly because
he and I have been in conflict from the start. He has never liked the fact that
I operate so independently of him, and I do not respect him enough to alter
that.”

“Does it mean you are no longer a Templar?”

“Nay, I could remain a rank and file brother when the
punishment is over, but I have withdrawn from the Order. I have renounced my
vows to the Grand Master. I turned my equipment in to Brother Conrad earlier. I
will be simply a man and a knight now.”

“Can you do that? Just quit?”

“Probably not, but I did.”

He could see that she warred between being distressed and
hopeful.

“What will you do now?”

He looked at her and wanted to say
be with you.
“I will
continue to do what I have been doing, only as a secular knight, not as a monk.
The kingdom needs my intelligence and the use of my network. Without it, the
king will have no eyes. When this crisis has passed….” He continued to stare at
her and shrugged. “Well, I will probably take service with a baron, or hire out
my services.”

She nodded, but he could tell she did not truly understand.
Hell, he did not truly understand yet all the changes that his actions tonight
would bring.

She dropped her head, unable to hold his piercing dark stare.
“I knew I would bring you trouble.”

It was a muted statement, one barely heard; one laced with
sorrow and regret. Lucien closed the distance between them and slipped an arm
around her shoulders. With his free hand, he lifted her chin. Tears glimmered
in her eyes, tears that startled him because they were for him.

“Aw, Gabrielle, this is not your fault!” he said, curling his
arm until she was snug against his side.

“My life has always been a mess. Anyone who gets involved with
me gets caught up in that mess.”

“Not so, mi’lady,” he murmured against the top of her head as he
slid his other arm around her to enfold her within his embrace. “Not so. I will
help you fix this mess because I have chosen to do so. You have become very
important to me.”

Her hair was loosely secured in a long thick braid which fell
over one slender shoulder. Lucien succumbed to the desire to run his fingertips
over its silken texture. Lord, she made him want things he had no right to
want!

Unable to resist the acute temptation, he slid his palm to her
cheek. Her skin was so soft and smooth; like fine silk, its color the shade of
light golden honey. Her big dark blue eyes were locked on his with silent
wonder. Her curiosity mirrored his. What was his intent here?

He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t thinking. He was simply responding
viscerally to her nearness and his own desires. The kiss they had shared the
night before had been on his mind since it had happened. He wanted another
taste of her, another deeper, longer sample. He had wanted that from the first
day he’d met her. She was so unbearably sweet. And he wanted her with a
ferocity that rocked him.

He lifted his other hand, cupped her head, and pulled her
forward to cover her mouth with his. This time, he kissed her with all the
hunger he had felt for her from the beginning. His desire was not tentative
like last night. It quickly became much more demanding, straining the edges of
his fierce self-control.

Her fragrance enveloped him in a cloud of sweet scent, and he
wanted to drown in it, the way he wanted to drown in her kiss, in her body. He
tilted her head from one angle to another, rubbing her lips with his, pressing
little kisses from one corner to the other.

Savoring the taste and texture of her, he ran the tip of his
tongue along the seam of her lips. This time, they parted for him without
uncertainty. Her untried innocence still enchanted him.

“Gabi….” His voice was thick with desire and far too much
desperation.

The moment her tongue met his, rather shyly still, his kiss
turned hotter, more urgent. He felt her gasp in momentary shock and gave her
time to adjust. His pulse leapt when she met his wilder passion without
resistance.

She trembled against him, and her body twisted beneath the
tangle of bedcovers. His hands fell from her face to the side of her head as he
turned her and pressed her back deeper into the pillows with his body, then
rose above her and untied her robe to push it off of her shoulders. Emboldened
by her enthusiastic response, he tugged on the ribbons that laced up the bodice
of her new gauze nightgown.

It fell off one side of her, baring the translucent golden
globe of one breast. Groaning, he fit his long fingers around its creamy full
shape. She was voluptuously endowed, and she was so unbearably soft, it was
nearly miraculous.

Desire flared to a searing hot flame within him, and he was
nearly undone by the sweet little sounds emerging from her throat. Restraint
dimmed. Completely intoxicated by her, he abandoned her kiss-swollen lips and
bent over the rosy puckered peak of her breast. He drew it into his mouth,
suckled it, then anointed it with the wet swirl of his tongue. His arm
tightened around her as she shivered violently and stammered his name. She was
heavily aroused and totally surprised by it.

Lucien was delighted.

He wanted to introduce her to all the pleasures he was fairly
certain she had never experienced with her brutal husband. While he continued
to lavishly attend to her breast, his hand edged lower, wandering slowly over
her stomach to finally settle over the warm vee between her legs. Beneath her
gown, her dark feminine curls were hot and damp. His hand inched lower until he
found her tangled hem. Under the fragile fabric, his fingers traced an
unhurried path upwards, over her delicately boned ankle, past her bent knee, to
her velvety inner thigh.

“Lucien?”

He heard the edge of fear in her voice and lifted his head to
look into her glazed blue eyes. “It is all right, Gabi. I won’t hurt you. Let
me show you how much pleasure you can feel.”

He could see that she didn’t quite believe him, but she seemed
willing to trust him a little longer. When his fingers reached the dark
triangle of curls between her legs, he stopped and curved them gently over her
mound. She flinched, and he stilled his hand, giving her time to become
accustomed to his intimate caress.

His smile encouraged her. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

“It always hurts,” she answered him in a tiny frightened
voice, her legs held tightly together.

He ached for her, knowing what she meant. “It shouldn’t. Let
me change it for you.”

Tears filled her eyes. Gabrielle couldn’t help it. This man
was so different, so gentle, so patient.

She wanted to know what made other women flush with excitement
and anticipation whenever they were near a man they wanted. She stared into
Lucien’s darkly passionate gaze for several seconds and finally decided to let
him show her what might await.

When he read the consent in her eyes, he dipped one finger
into her woman’s channel.

“Open your legs a bit more, Gabi,” he asked huskily. “Let me
into your sweet heat.”

And she was, by God! Sweet and hot and wet, despite her
anxiety. He could even smell her arousal now, and it made his cock jerk
reflexively. He knew he would only do this for her tonight, but he needed her
to touch him, even if for just a moment. With his free hand, he caught her
wrist and brought her fingers to his erection, cupping them around his swollen
shape as he stroked her slippery folds.

She quickly understood what he wanted and squeezed him as he
rubbed arousing little circles around the tiny nub at her entrance. It had been
a long time since he’d done this to a woman, but he tried hard to remember lost
skills, for her.

As the tender peak swelled, he nipped her earlobe, then softly
bit her neck. Jesu, her fingers were still squeezing and rubbing him! He was so
engorged, he didn’t know how long it would be before he spilled his
long-dormant seed.

This was not meant for him tonight
, he reminded himself
ruthlessly before he captured her hand and hauled it up to his chest.