Midnight Warrior

by Iris Johansen

  A streak of fire surged through her. No, fire was pain and this was not pain. It was heavier, throbbing, wilder than anything she had ever felt before.

  He bent his head and his mouth hovered over her breast while his hand lazily squeezed the other. His breath was warm and she could feel her nipple rise as if to meet him. “You see?” His tongue licked delicately at her nipple through the rough cloth. “You are teasing me. Now, take off that gown and let us enjoy each other.”

  She bit back a cry as she arched against the tree. She wanted him to strip the gown from her. She wanted to fall naked to the ground and open her thighs so that he could do with her as he would. Was this what Delmas and Lord Richard felt when they were rutting? she wondered hazily. She had not thought women could feel this animal need. It had no dignity …

  She would not be an animal. She would not be a vessel for him to spend his lust. She would not be—

  His teeth bit gently on the nipple he’d brought to full arousal.

  She groaned and her hands reached up to touch his hair. Closer. She wanted him closer. She arched up toward his mouth, offering more.

  “Yes,” he muttered. His hands went around to cup her buttocks and bring her into the hollow of his hips. Arousal. Hard, unrelenting … “Spread your legs. That’s right … Now let me—”

  She must not—she would not be his whore. To bargain something of value was one thing, but she was giving herself to him freely. It was somehow much worse than—

  She tore away from him. “No!”

  He stared at her in astonishment. She had caught him off guard, she realized. He had thought he had bent her to his will. He shook the hair out of his eyes and said with dangerous softness, “Come here. I will not be played with.”

  Play? She could have laughed aloud if she had not felt so desperate. She was shaking in every limb and felt curiously incomplete. Dear heaven, she wanted to return to him, to let him … She shook her head. “Why will you not listen? I have to talk … we need to barter.”

  He went still and then a cynical smile touched his lips. “Forgive me. I thought since you belonged to me that the usual haggling was unnecessary. What’s your price? What do you want for taking me between your legs?”

  The crudity of the question jarred her, and she found the madness leaving her. She drew a deep breath and stood up straighter. “You don’t understand.”

  “On the contrary, there’s nothing I understand better than the barter. Come now, don’t hesitate. I’m a very rich man and I prefer a willing wench.”

  “You could be richer. You could have the wealth that most men only dream about.”

  “You’re very greedy. I assure you I’m rich enough to pay you handsomely for your favors.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” She gestured impatiently. “I don’t want you to pay me. I want to pay you.”

  “I’m weary of this nonsense.” He took a step nearer. “If you think anticipation will cause my lust to sharpen, you’re wrong.” His tone roughened. “By God, I could not want you more.”

  “It’s not nonsense.” She backed away again. “Malik says you would like to be king. I can give that to you.”

  His skeptical glance ran over her coarse brown gown. “Indeed? Are slaves ruling the world now? Or perhaps you intend to use sorcery to do it?”

  She ignored the mockery. “I told you I was no sorceress, but I can give you what you want. Providing a crown can be bought.”

  “Oh, anything can be bought with the right exchange. However, the price of a throne is too high even for me.”

  “Then I know where there is a treasure that would buy a thousand thrones.”

  Slowly the mockery faded from his face. “I believe you mean it.”

  “Of course I mean it.”

  “Let me understand you. You wish to ransom your virtue and your freedom for this incredible treasure?”

  She frowned. “Don’t be foolish. Neither of those is yours to give. I would not barter Gwynthal for something that is only mine to yield or take.”

  “Gwynthal?”

  “The place of my birth.”

  “And the cache for this splendid treasure?”

  She nodded. “You have never seen a treasure so beautiful. Emeralds and rubies and bowls of gold …” She trailed off as she realized he was looking at her totally without expression. “You don’t believe me. I can prove it to you.”

  “How?”

  “Come with me to Redfern.”

  “And you will show me this treasure? I thought it was at this Gwynthal.”

  “It is, but I can show you at Redfern that it exists.” He said nothing, and she asked, “Why do you hesitate? I’m giving you what you want.”

  “You have given me nothing.” His eyes went over her, lingering on her breasts. “Nothing.”

  Heat moved through her again, and for a moment she felt as if she were once more pinned to that tree, his huge body rubbing against her. She lifted her chin. “I barter with a treasure beyond price and all you can talk about is coupling.”

  “Perhaps because it’s all I can think about.” His gaze lifted to her face. “What will you take for this treasure beyond price?”

  He still did not believe her but, at least, he was no longer on the edge of reaching out and taking what he wanted. “I wish safe passage to Gwynthal and your protection on the journey. When we arrive there and you have the treasure, I wish you to go away and leave me at Gwynthal.” She added caustically, “It is very little to ask for a throne.”

  “Very little.” He smiled. “If there is a treasure. I admit I find it curious that a slave would not use the treasure herself to purchase her freedom, if not a throne.”

  “Come to Redfern and I will give you proof.”

  Instead of assenting, he asked, “Why do you want to go to Redfern so badly?”

  “The proof is there.”

  He slowly shook his head. “That is not all, is it?”

  She was tempted to tell him of Adwen, but it was possible he might suspect she was luring him to Redfern only for her sake. Actually, that was close to the truth. “It is all that concerns you.”

  His lips tightened. “But not all that concerns you. Could it be that you’re yearning for that handsome Judas who was so eager to pander you?”

  “The proof is there,” she said again. “Malik will be well enough to travel in a week’s time. Go to Redfern and you will have no need to curry favor with William for a paltry holding.”

  “I don’t curry favor.” He studied her and then said softly, “You are trying to play games with me. You expected that gibe to annoy me.”

  Dear heaven, he was clever. “Why should I do that?”

  “To goad me to do what you wish.”

  “I’m giving you what you want,” she said desperately. “Why will you not listen?”

  “Because I don’t believe in mythical treasures.”

  “Then you’re a fool!”

  Astonishment showed on his face. “By God, it’s possible you actually think you could give me this treasure.”

  “Go to Redfern.”

  He shook his head. “William is already irritated because I stayed here when Malik was wounded. It would not be wise to delay joining him.”

  “You said you did not curry favor.”

  “I also don’t make the mistake of defying a monarch when it will bring me nothing in return.”

  “I told you—”

  “But you did not convince me. You may believe what you say, but you also think you can heal a man by sleeping with him.” He suddenly smiled with infinite sensuality and held out his hand. “Come. Heal my affliction, Brynn of Falkhaar.”

  “No!” She suddenly lost her temper. “Why should I? You’re a stupid, blind Norman who would rather rut than reach out and grasp what is important to him. You deserve to wallow in William’s dust. Malik was wrong. You have the brains of an ox and would rather sink in the mud than—”

  “Enough.”

  “It
is not enough. You come here and ride over me as if I were nothing and then think I should lie down at your bidding and—”

  “I said enough!” He was suddenly towering over her, his hand covering her mouth as he glared into her eyes. “I have treated you with more patience than you deserve. I can do with you as I wish. You belong to me.”

  She bit down on his palm, and when he withdrew it with a curse she said, “I belong to no one.”

  “Not even to your pretty Lord Richard?” His hand closed on her breast and there was no gentleness in his grasp, only possession. “Forget him. You will never see him or Redfern again.”

  Why did he persist in thinking she wanted to remember that beast? He was important only as a threat to Adwen. “I have to go to Redfern. It is—” She gave a low cry as his hand involuntarily tightened on her breast.

  To her surprise, he gave a low exclamation and his hand moved away from her. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t realize—” He whirled away from her and said haltingly, “It is not my custom to brutalize women.”

  She continued to stare at him in surprise. He appeared genuinely upset that he had hurt her. Neither Delmas nor Lord Richard would have given a thought to her pain if it had gotten them what they wanted.

  He turned back and glowered at her. “Though it is entirely your own fault. You would tempt a saint to violence.”

  “You bear no resemblance to a saint.”

  “You see? You have a tongue that would burn—” He stopped and was clearly trying to gather his composure. “I have no desire to hurt you.”

  “You do not think rape would hurt me?”

  “Not if you didn’t fight me.”

  “Is that all you want? A body to lie lax and lifeless while you spend yourself?”

  “It is what most men would—” He broke off and then the words tumbled fiercely. “No, by God, I want you hot and willing. I want you to moan and shake when I enter you. I want you to move against me and let me have you any way I want you.”

  She was trembling now. “I cannot give you willingness. It will not happen.”

  “It almost did. It will again. Your Lord Richard was right; you do have a passionate nature.” His lips twisted, “But it seems I must teach you to channel it only in my direction,”

  Passion? Was that hot, powerful compulsion really passion? Whatever it was, it was too strong and must be banished. “I don’t want—”

  “You do want it, but perhaps you want what waits for you at Redfern more.” He paused. “Shall we barter, Brynn?”

  “I’ve already tried to barter with you.”

  “But I don’t think you were entirely honest and you couldn’t prove good intent. That’s always necessary in such a pact.” He smiled. “There’s a possibility you do have proof of this treasure at Redfern. There’s also the possibility that you wish to draw me there for reasons of your own and will waste my time. To take the risk I must have compensation.”

  “A visit to Redfern will not take much time. It’s only a short distance from here.”

  “Nevertheless, I must be compensated.” He was silent a moment and then added, “In one week Malik will be able to travel. It’s your decision whether we go to Redfern or follow William to London.”

  He turned and left her.

  She stared after him, startled at the abruptness of his departure. The first foray was over and she had won. If delay could be called a victory.

  Of course delay was a victory, she quickly assured herself. He had left to her the decision to come to him and had not totally discounted her offer of the treasure. He wanted willingness, and she had a week to convince him that she would never give him what he desired and he should accept the much greater prize beckoning from Gwynthal.

  A week could be a long time.

  A week was not that long, Gage thought as he strode back to the camp.

  It was damn long. What in Hades had led him to walk away from her again? He was a fool and as soft as one of those mawkish fools the troubadours sang about. He could have had her. Even now he could be between her thighs, his hands squeezing those breasts that had felt so firm and warm through the cloth of her gown. He could be moving and hearing her cry out to him as her hands dug into—

  Christ.

  He was hurting; heavy and engorged. He stopped at the edge of the encampment and reached out to grasp the trunk of a tree with one hand. His fingers dug into the bark until a ripple of pain went through him. He welcomed it as a distraction from that other maddening ache.

  She would come to him. She wanted to go back to this Redfern. He would not have to use force. She would come and let him have her. He had only to wait.

  Wait?

  God’s blood, he was heavy and stiff as a stallion scenting a mare in season.

  He could wait.

  A week was not that long.

  “I wish you would go away, Gage.” Malik sighed. “Brynn tells me I must rest and keep a serene mind, and how can I do that with you prowling around the tent like a tiger about to pounce?”

  “I’m not prowling.” Gage stopped prowling, threw open the tent flap, and looked out into the darkness. “Where is she?”

  “In the forest. She likes the forest.”

  “Does she?” In the past three days she had certainly spent enough time strolling through the underbrush. He was not sure if it was because, as Malik said, she liked the woods, or wanted to avoid him. Either way he didn’t like it. “You should have told her not to go. LeFont tells me there are wild boars in these forests.”

  “I am sure you’ve already told her.”

  He had told her and she had ignored him. Not that her disregard of his wishes in this matter was exceptional. She had scarcely looked at him or spoken a word since that day by the pond. “You appear to have more influence on her than I do.”

  “She says she’s safe in the forest.” He paused. “I think she is more afraid of the human beast than the animal.”

  “The soldiers won’t bother her. They know she’s my property.”

  “I wasn’t speaking of the soldiers.”

  Gage knew he wasn’t, but he had chosen to misunderstand. It was clear Malik had no intention of letting him do so. “Say it.”

  “If she is so opposed to taking you to her bed, why not let her win the battle?”

  “The hell I will,” he said harshly.

  “I knew that would be your response.” Malik sighed again. “I just thought I would make the attempt.”

  Gage whirled to face him. “You said before that I should bed her as soon as possible. What changed your mind?”

  “I have gotten to know her better. To many women, taking a man is an easy, joyous matter. For her it would not be so. She could not rise from your bed and walk away.”

  “You think I should send her back to Richard of Redfern’s bed? By God, I will not. If she can become used to pleasuring that whoreson, she can take me. She’s done with him. I won’t send her to Redfern, nor will I pay heed to her pleas and take her there.”

  “Perhaps it’s not Richard. Perhaps she spoke true about this treasure.”

  “And perhaps she didn’t. How would a slave know of such a thing?”

  “How does a slave know how to read and write? It’s a skill not many noblemen in this benighted country possess.”

  He frowned. “She can read?”

  Malik nodded. “And write.”

  “She told you this?”

  “She mentioned it in passing.”

  “You seem to have her complete confidence. What else did she mention ‘in passing’?”

  “Nothing. She is wary as a frightened bird. She would not have told me if it had not slipped out.” He made a face. “And don’t glare at me. I have no desire to stand between the two of you. It would be most uncomfortable.”

  “Then don’t interfere.”

  “I must do what my heart wills,” he said simply.

  “You might try doing what your head wills,” Gage said dryly. “It will save considerab
le lumps and bruises.”

  “Are you threatening him?” Gage turned to see Brynn standing in the entrance of the tent. She frowned as she came forward. “You would threaten a sick and helpless man?”

  “Yes, come and protect me, Brynn.” Malik’s eyes gleamed with mischief from beneath half-lowered lids, and he held out a pleading hand. “I cannot defend myself from this barbarian.”

  Brynn studied his guileless expression and then grimaced. “You defend yourself very well,” she said, kneeling beside him, “and deceit deserves a few lumps and bruises.” In spite of the tart words, her hands were gentle as they pulled the cover closer to his throat.

  A tiny scarlet maple leaf was caught in her golden-brown hair, and he remembered the rueful remark she had made about her thick hair being a net. Gage could smell the scent of earth and crisp autumn air that clung to her. Her skin glowed in the lantern light and the air seemed to vibrate with the vitality she exuded. He wanted to step closer and pull the leaf from her hair and then gently run his fingers through the bright thickness.

  Gentleness. It was the first time he had wanted to touch her with tenderness, he realized. Usually his body was too ready and hurting for him to think of anything but the lust that racked him.

  “You shouldn’t have gone into the forest alone,” he said gruffly.

  She stiffened but didn’t look at him. “I was quite safe.”

  Her wariness irritated him more than usual. “That’s my decision to make.” He added mockingly, “I won’t have my property damaged.”

  Her hand clenched on Malik’s cover, but she replied evenly, “As you can see, I’m not damaged.” She turned away and ordered, “Blow out the lantern. Malik needs to sleep.”

  Malik made a motion to lift the cover for her to lie down beside him.

  “No.” She smiled down at him. “It’s time for you to sleep alone.” She took off her cloak and spread it a few yards distant on the ground. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Gage was almost as surprised as Malik. “I take it the dragons have gone back into their caves?”

  “Laugh if you like. I don’t care. There is a time for all things. It was wrong to leave him before.”