“You would rather I paused to dress instead of coming immediately to find if you needed my help when I heard your cry?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He took her hand again to lead her out of there. Boris tried to thrust a blanket at him, but Christoph waved it aside. His nakedness was the least of his concerns.
He took Alana to his own room for privacy. He kept his own anger under control, or tried to.
As soon as he closed the door behind them, he said, “Tell me what happened.”
“One of your men tried to kill me. I yelled as soon as I knocked him off me.”
She seemed to have calmed down, but she hadn’t turned around to face him yet. He needed to see her expression, her eyes, to gauge what she was really feeling.
“Kill you how? And look at me.”
“Not until you’re dressed.”
He sighed, but marched over to where he’d tossed his clothes earlier and thrust his legs into his pants.
“A shirt, too,” she said.
His eyes shot up toward her, but she still wasn’t looking in his direction. Had she peeked at him, or was she just being thorough?
He slapped his chest. “This is nothing.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, but immediately looked away again to say, “I disagree. Any other man’s bare chest might be nothing, but yours is far too distracting.”
He stared hard at her back. A compliment in the middle of mayhem? Or was she just trying to soften his mood because she could sense the anger he was trying to keep from her. He put his shirt back on. He even tucked it into his pants.
“Now turn around and tell me exactly what happened, from the beginning.”
She turned about slowly. His eyes were immediately drawn again to the blood splatters across the front of the robe, so stark, red on white. If one of his men did this . . .
“Wait,” he said.
He moved to his wardrobe to get her another robe. She quickly shrugged off the bloody robe and he helped her into the clean one, lifting her long black hair out from under it. The blood hadn’t soaked through to the nightshirt she was wearing. He came around in front of her and tied the robe closed for her.
Before he stepped back, he put a hand to her cheek. “Better? I swear nothing like this will happen again—they’ll have to get past me.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you tell me what happened now?” he asked gently.
She nodded. “I was sleeping. I woke the moment the pillow was yanked from under my head, but I was still too groggy to know I was in danger—until he threw himself on top of me, knocking the breath out of me. And then he thrust the pillow over my face, making sure I couldn’t regain my breath. I tried to find his face with my hands, but he was leaning just out of my reach. I was in such a panic by then, I don’t know how I remembered the club I’d tucked to my side before I fell asleep, but I did.”
“So that was yours?”
“Yes, I broke a leg off the table. I swung it where I thought his head might be. I was hoping to knock him out, but he must have turned, seeing it coming, because it smashed his face instead. But it did knock him enough to the side that I was able to heave him the rest of the way off me.”
Christoph was given pause. “He was on top of you? Are you sure he wasn’t trying to have his way with you?”
She scowled at that interpretation. “And kill me in the process? He was smothering me! That’s murder where I come from.”
“Or a means merely to conceal your screams. It wouldn’t be the first time a guard has taken advantage of a female prisoner.”
“You allow this?” she said incredulously.
“Of course not,” he snapped at her. “Any guard caught doing so is publicly whipped nearly to death and kicked out of the palace.”
Her eyes were still round on him. “That’s all?”
“A disgrace like that ruins a man for life. We take a life for a life. If no life is taken—”
“I get the point! And I bloody well wish I’d killed the bastard—if that was his intention. At least I broke his nose. I feel much better now, thank you. But unlike you, I won’t dismiss the thought that he came here to kill me.”
“I’m not dismissing that thought either.”
“Good, because in case it hasn’t occurred to you yet, you’ve been harboring a traitor to the crown. Is that why you’re so angry?”
“I’m angry because someone tried to hurt you.”
“When are you going to believe I am who I say I am, and that someone, maybe the same people who wanted me dead eighteen years ago, want to harm me now? I—I’m frightened.”
He put a finger under her chin. “I will get to the bottom of this. In fact, I think I’ll go now to see if that blackguard is awake yet.” Christoph grabbed his boots and coat and told her on the way out the door, “Lock this behind me.”
He thought he heard her say, “Be delighted to.”
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t lock him out when he had the key in his coat pocket. But he had a feeling she’d be asleep before he returned. Even if his men had managed to rouse that thief, he was going to take his time getting a confession from him. He needed someone to unleash this anger on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ALANA DRIFTED IN AND out of sleep. Nightmares had woken her twice. She’d dreamed that she was drowning again, suffocating again. Those two horrible events today had been so similar, she wasn’t surprised they’d been blended together in her dreams. But then she reminded herself that Christoph had saved her life today; he’d also caught the man who’d attacked her. She felt so safe when she was with him, and knowing he was there beside her lulled her back to sleep.
The large bed helped. It was so comfortable. She couldn’t even feel the robe anymore that had constricted her when she’d crawled into bed. She must have shrugged it off when it got too warm under the covers. But the warmth was perfect now, even with Christoph’s body next to her adding to it—and just like today by the hearth in that cottage when his heat had ended that nightmare, a soft orange glow from the fireplace filled the room.
She wasn’t surprised that she would want to reexamine the kisses that Christoph had introduced her to, but she wondered how she could remember his taste this strongly. Then she knew. She must have cried out and awakened him. And this was his way of soothing away her fears so she could sleep again. The velvet softness of his lips, the rasp of his tongue, the way her pulse began racing, even the pounding of her heart. Not exactly soothing!
The wintry smell of his hair filled her nostrils when his mouth moved to her neck. Tingles spread down her arms from it. She was feeling everything she’d felt before and maybe a little more.
His hand was on her breast. His mouth was on her breast? That was hot, drawing a moan from her as it sent tendrils of pleasure to her core. And between her legs, a friction—oh, God, nothing that had happened before was as exciting as this! She sucked in her breath, again, yet again, and held it tight. Whatever had been building inside her was so wondrous, felt so amazingly good, that even her breath was now held in thrall waiting for it to let her go. Then it did, releasing the most erotic pleasure imaginable. It washed over her in repeated waves, and she expelled her breath in a groan that was loud even to her own ears.
Toes curled, a smile on her lips, she still felt that pulse throbbing between her legs. But she was so drained. So tired, too tired to wonder about it. Tomorrow she would . . .
But the warm cocoon surrounding her suddenly felt heavy. She spread her legs to get them out of the way. Something hard slid across that pulse, making her start, reminding her it was still there.
“Open your eyes, Alana. You melted for me. Now melt with me. I want to give you more pleasure, and I want you to see how much pleasure it will give me to . . . make love to you.”
When she opened her eyes, she saw Christoph’s handsome face there above her. Lambent blue eyes. A smile on his lips warm enough to melt snow.
“Much bette
r,” he said. “I was beginning to think you fell asleep again.”
She almost laughed. Sleep through what just happened? But she was still savoring the delicious languor she was floating in. Even his weight felt right now, perfectly distributed on her, a welcome change that put him within her reach.
She gave in to the urge to touch him, putting her hands on his bare shoulders, running them over the thick muscles of his arms, which he was leaning on to keep his chest off hers. He was still naked. Hadn’t she objected to that? What could she have been thinking? His golden body was so magnificent, it was stimulating her senses. With such bulging strength he was almost barbarically masculine, yet beautiful. She wondered if she could adequately describe him for Henry so he could make her a carving of him like this. She’d love that.
He was watching her intently. He seemed fascinated by the way her fingers were examining him. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel the least bit shy.
In fact, she smiled at him and teased, “This is a nice dream.”
He chuckled. “I wish my dreams were so erotic.” In a deeper timbre, he said, “Actually, they usually are. But let’s not wake up from this one, eh?”
He was kissing her so fast, she guessed he didn’t really want her opinion on that. She gave it to him anyway, by kissing him back. But sharing a kiss so wholeheartedly with him might not have been a good idea. So quickly, the languor was gone. So quickly, a higher degree of passion was there between them, and it wasn’t just coming from him. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of him but had to try!
Steam seemed to rise around them. His back was now slick where she tried to grip it, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck instead. It was slick between her legs, too. That hardness was sliding across the pulse point there so easily, back and forth, briskly stimulating. It was building up again, that amazing tension that kept getting stronger and stronger. But she knew now where it led. She knew . . .
“Are you sure, Alana?”
If he said another word, she’d scream. It was akin to panic, the urgency that was upon her. She dragged his mouth back to hers, then gasped. Had that been pain? It was gone too quickly to be sure. But she was filled with heat, deeply filled with it, and . . . and . . .
“Oh, God!”
The crescendo she’d been heading toward peaked again, but it was different! So much more gratifying this way with that heat still moving in her, prolonging the exquisite pleasure. And such a wealth of tenderness filling her, too, for the man who had given her this gift. A luxury, to briefly allow that emotion. She actually wished it could stay. . . .
But the glow stayed. Even after he shared in that beautiful gift and collapsed on her completely, she held him close. But he was mindful of his weight. A soft kiss to her neck, her cheek, then he rolled over to the mattress. But he wasn’t done with her. He drew her close to his side, even pulled her leg across him before he put his arm firmly across her back to keep her there. A hand, gently smoothing the hair back from the cheek that wasn’t pressed to his chest.
She sighed deeply in contentment, so relaxed, sublimely comfortable curled against him. “That was nice,” she said drowsily a moment before she succumbed to the sweet languor and drifted away in it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
WHAT AN UNBELIEVABLE DAY yesterday had been, Alana thought. Had all of that really occurred in just one day, even . . . ? Alana shied away from that thought.
She had no idea what time it was. Christoph’s bedroom had no windows to indicate whether it was day or night, just a lamp left burning on the mantel. But she felt calmer, completely refreshed, and was wide-awake the moment she realized it wasn’t a pillow her head was on, nor was it a blanket giving such heat to her back and buttocks. He was curled around her! The fireplace had gone cold at some point, but it wasn’t needed. He was a furnace.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
How did he know she was awake to hear that? She hadn’t moved, was barely breathing to keep from rousing him before she could pull her thoughts together.
“I did my best to comfort you last night after that nightmare woke you,” he continued in a reflective tone. “I’m glad you wanted me to. Needing to be close to another human being is a natural urge after a traumatic event.”
She tried to get up, but his arm tightened on her and his voice turned firm. “That was no dream, Alana.”
“I know it wasn’t. I was only teasing last night when I suggested it was. But it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Yet it cannot be erased. Pleasure like that will linger forever—as beautiful memories do.”
She groaned. “Please, can we not discuss it?”
Immediately, she was pushed flat on her back. Christoph was now leaning on one arm looking down at her. Just to see how hot her cheeks had become? No, actually, he was smiling at her, a stunning smile that stole her breath and kept her holding it in anticipation as he slowly leaned forward to kiss her.
But all he did was place a peck on the tip of her nose, grin, and say, “Good morning, or perhaps it is afternoon by now.”
She released her breath in a whoosh. She should be furious, about everything, but mostly about last night. He’d behaved like a barbarian and enjoyed what had been offered to him. But in the back of her mind, she knew that wasn’t so. He’d been sweet and loving to her. She shied away from that thought, uncomfortable with how much she was starting to like him.
“Is it really afternoon?”
He shrugged. “Very likely. I ate some time ago. I was beginning to think you’d never wake, but I suppose you needed the extra sleep.”
An understatement. But—wait, he’d been up? But he’d come back to bed to lie with her while she continued to sleep? She hoped that didn’t mean he wanted to continue where they’d left off last night. She started to get up. Again his arm tightened around her waist.
But this time he said, “Do you really want me to let you up when you are naked? I suppose you could take the sheet with you, but then you’d leave me here naked. Which would you prefer?”
She groaned. “I would prefer to hide under these covers while you leave the room. Can that be arranged?”
He laughed. “No.”
She groused, “Why are you still here if it’s that late? Shouldn’t you be out and about doing your job?”
“No.”
“Because I’m your job?” she guessed.
“I am so delighted to say, yes.”
Oh, good Lord, she had the charmer in bed with her? That boyish grin of his was devastating her senses. And the arm that was keeping her there wasn’t still. His fingers were brushing over her exposed shoulder. So lightly she might not notice? So lightly he might not even be aware he was doing it? She couldn’t count on that.
Desperate to distract him, she asked, “Was that actually one of your men who tried to kill me last night?”
He nodded. “It was your thief, Alana.”
She drew in her breath. The way he said that, it was obvious he believed he’d solved the matter to his satisfaction.
“Just like that? You think a thief goes from being a thief to a murderer, to hide that he’s a thief? Let me guess, you hang thieves here and merely imprison murderers.”
Sarcasm and an insult combined, she wasn’t surprised he sat up, then got up. And he was naked!
She put a hand over her eyes before she felt capable of continuing, “Did he even know I’m the one who accused him? Did you tell him you had me in your prison?”
“Of course not, but he could have easily drawn that conclusion. You were seen being led to my quarters. He could have assumed you were being detained until the matter was resolved.”
Hurt that he could still discount the main threat to her, she said, “Is that really what you believe?”
He suddenly sat down on the other side of the bed next to her and took her hand away from her eyes. She kept them squeezed tight and asked, “Did you put pants on?”
“Yes,” he said calmly. �
��And listen carefully. I’m willing to acknowledge that there might be more here than meets the eye, but so far the man claims he was only trying to frighten you into withdrawing your charge.”
“You believe that?”
“No. But consider this, a thief tries to cover his crime by getting rid of his accuser, or, as you are supposing, someone ordered that very same man to kill you when no one knows why you’re here except myself and the king? Which do you really think is more likely?”
“So you did tell him?”
“Certainly.”
She was crestfallen. Her father couldn’t be bothered to come and have a look at her?
Before Christoph could guess how disappointed she was, she asked, “Are you sure the king didn’t tell someone else? A member of his family? His closest friends or advisers? Was he alone when you told him?”
The back of his finger brushed her cheek. “Why haven’t you opened your eyes?”
Because he hadn’t had time to put a shirt on, too! Could she manage to look at his face and no lower? She tried. Oh, good grief, he was smiling! The man had read her thoughts!
“To answer your questions, no, no, and yes, I spoke to him in private.”
“And he just shrugged off my claim the same as you have? Why?! ”
“I’ve already told you—”
“My arsenal?” she spat out. “That supports my claim, not yours.”
“You’re not an assassin.”
“Thank you very much, I was beginning to feel unsure.”
He laughed. “You try to make me angry with your sarcasms, but today it won’t work. Did I not warn you how amiable I would be after—”
“Don’t say another word!”
He pretended he was going to flick her nose until she covered it, then with a grin he stood up. “I will agree to that—for now, if you will agree it is pointless to discuss your thief before we finish interrogating him.”
He didn’t wait for her to answer. He moved to his wardrobe to finish dressing. She should have looked away, but with his back to her, she simply couldn’t resist watching him. Those military pants fit him much too snugly. In the dim light, they appeared almost like a second skin, emphasizing how firm and perfectly curved his buttocks were. Her eyes moved slowly up his back, which broadened to his shoulders—then was abruptly covered with his linen shirt. She kept the sigh to herself.
When Passion Rules Page 16