He swallowed hard. “Well,” he echoed, wondering if he’d ever be able to speak a full sentence again. Fisting his hands, he fought the urge to reach out and trail his fingers over her flawless skin, to explore her curves, shadows . . .
She closed the distance between them. His embattled senses tried to resist her scent, her warmth, her smoldering stare . . .
No man could deny her. Not even a knight.
Sliding his arm around her waist, he yanked her flush against him, causing the bolts in his quiver to jostle together. “Lioness,” he said against her lips, “how you tempt me.”
He pushed his quiver from his shoulder and dropped it to the floor, followed by his cloak. Then he reached down, slid his other arm under her knees, and, being careful of his stitches, scooped her into his arms.
His conscience shrilled a reminder about chivalry. Yet while he recognized the voice of reason, she twined her fingers in his hair and smiled at him in a way that shot renewed heat through his body. He kissed her brow, then drew back the coverlet and laid her upon the bed. Her limbs fell easily, her pose welcoming. Eager.
His. As he had dreamed.
Oh, God, aye.
He knelt above her, pushing aside the hair fallen over the side of her face. She turned her cheek into his palm, nuzzling, the soft brush of her skin painfully arousing.
And then her hands were under the hem of his tunic, reaching for the fastenings of his hose. His manhood pulsed, and he shuddered.
Obviously puzzled by his reaction, she frowned. “Do I hurt you?”
He blinked. “What? Nay.”
“Then why—”
His fingers skimmed over her bare breast, and her eyelids fluttered on a moan. “Because you give me pleasure.”
“O-oh.”
He circled her beaded nipple with his fingertip. “Understand?”
“Mmm.”
Her determined hands moved again. The fastenings of his hose yielded, and then her fingers touched him.
G-G-God above.
He clenched his teeth, her exploration close to torture. His body shook, yearning for that glorious moment when he plunged into her. But despite her show of wantonness, he guessed she was a virgin. He’d do all within his control not to cause her pain. “Leona,” he ground out, “I cannot—”
She whimpered. “Show me. I do not know—”
“Aye, Lioness, I will.” But he was still clothed. An impatient oath bubbled inside him, for this first time, as they came to know each other’s bodies, they should both be naked.
He kissed her, catching another whimper, while he grabbed his tunic. Breaking the kiss for a moment, and taking care not to strain his wound, he pulled the garment over his head. Tilting his body sideways, he nudged aside her curious fingers and slid his hose down his legs, letting the cloth fall to the floor along with his boots.
Glancing back at her, he caught her looking over his nakedness. He grinned and then swept his hand up her thigh to the shadow between her legs.
She gasped.
He slid his fingers through her curls, coaxing her legs wider apart. Her face flushed. Her back arched against the white linen sheets. He sensed her body reaching. Opening. Wanting.
Urgency shivered through him.
His.
Now.
He moved over her, sliding his legs between hers to rest his body upon her. Her half-lowered lashes flickered. Anticipation tightened her features, and her breath puffed against his jaw.
“Leona,” he whispered, shaking with need. “I—”
“Please!”
Love you.
His manhood brushed the damp entry to her body. He eased into her, a sensation so magnificent, he moaned.
“Aldwin!”
Poised above her, he steeled himself for her acknowledgment of pain. Instead, she bit her kiss-reddened bottom lip and tilted her hips to take him in farther.
“C-careful!” He didn’t want to hurt her. But before he’d voiced the whole word, her legs clamped about his lower back. With a little growl, she pushed their joined bodies tighter together.
Her maidenhood yielded, and he slid deep.
A sigh broke from her.
“Are you hurt?”
Her moist eyes flickered open, before her fingers touched his cheek. “Only a little.”
“Good.”
“Mmm, ’tis good.”
He nibbled her mouth. “’Twill soon be very good.”
As her gaze turned questioning, he slowly drew back his hips and pushed forward once more. She shivered and then squirmed beneath him.
“Leona,” he breathed as he rocked against her. She moaned. Her hips flexed, coaxing him to repeat his thrust.
He bent his head, inhaled the honey-sweet scent of her sweaty skin, while he kissed her. “Pleasure?”
“Mmm,” she purred.
Her throaty answer mirrored the growl rising inside him. His body tautened, preparing to run wild with need, to race toward that release still tantalizingly out of reach.
He sank into her again. Tasted her astonished gasp. Felt her inner muscles begin to clench.
His eyes squeezed shut as he thrust. The pleasure!
He drove harder. Faster. Racing toward . . .
“Aldwin!” Her voice shattered on a shrill cry.
Helpless to hold himself back, he thrust again. Again. Until, with one last push, he leapt over the edge of conscious thought into bliss.
***
Indulging in a lazy sigh, Leona snuggled back against Aldwin and drew the bedding closer about her shoulders. His body cocooned her with his warmth and masculine scent. Until now, she’d never considered lying naked alongside a man, her body cradled by his, but this embrace was heavenly.
Lifting her right hand, she trailed it along his arm stretched upon the moonlit coverlet and marveled at the bold definition of muscle and sinew. A warrior’s physique. But he’d been so tender.
What they’d shared moments ago had been impulsive, raw, and beautiful, in ways she’d never forget. Not months from now, when the days she’d spent with him became less clear in her memory. Or even years.
Despair pinched her, and she closed her eyes to force it away. As much as she loved Aldwin, she knew their relationship could never be more than ’twas now. He wanted to be revered as one of de Lanceau’s knights, an honorable man who championed duty wherever his lord sent him. Aldwin wouldn’t want to be bound to a woman whose father had once helped wanted conspirators and failed in his responsibilities to his liege.
Moreover, as Aldwin’s colleagues had pointed out earlier, she wasn’t like other noblewomen. She couldn’t be meek, elegant, or coiffed even if she tried, and didn’t have a large dowry to compensate for her shortcomings.
His arm beneath her shifted. “Leona.”
She sighed. “Aye?”
He kissed her hair. “I hate to even speak of this—”
“Then do not.”
His laughter rumbled. “As much as I would like to stay here with you, we should return to the great hall.”
She blinked away the sting of tears. “Must we?”
His breath gusted over her cheek. Then he shifted, gently pressing upon her bare shoulder in an unspoken request for her to turn onto her back.
She obeyed, her body falling to the warmed sheets. She couldn’t meet his gaze, though. Her heart hurt too much. If only they didn’t have to part ways, but he had the soul of a noble warrior. She mustn’t hinder his destiny.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
Oh, God. Did he realize she yearned for him, more now than before?
“Lioness.”
He caught her chin and made her look up at him. “Are you all right?”
Forcing a smile, she nodded.
Warmth glistened in his eyes that traveled over her in blatant appreciation before he kissed her. “Get dressed and come with me, before your father starts searching for you.”
A good point. While she wasn’t ashamed of lying with Aldwin, sh
e’d rather not have her sire discover her naked with him in her chamber.
Aldwin pushed up to sitting, and the rope bed shifted. He moved to the edge, stood, and then reached down to pick up his garments. She tried not to stare at his well-muscled arse, but ’twas so perfectly formed she couldn’t resist.
As he straightened, her gown landed on her lap.
“Enough ogling.” Aldwin sounded annoyed, but when he glanced at her, he grinned.
Hmm. So he could touch and stare at her at will, but she couldn’t do the same? That didn’t seem fair.
He shook out his tunic and pulled it over his head, not seeming to notice her hesitation. Of course he wouldn’t. He was thinking about claiming his knighthood and resuming his duties for de Lanceau.
Leona snatched up her gown to find her chemise snarled up inside. When she rose from the bed to straighten her garments, a stain on the sheets caught her attention: her virgin blood.
Aldwin met her gaze, and she knew he’d noticed the mark, too. When the servants came to change the linens, they’d see it. Soon the whole castle would know she was no longer a maiden and was ruined for a future husband who’d expect his bride to be unsullied.
She didn’t care. Whatever the consequences, she’d face them.
Aldwin touched her arm. “’Twill be all right, Leona.”
She steadied herself against the softness of his voice. “I know.” Not looking at him, she drew her chemise over her head and stood to shake out the creases.
Fully dressed, Aldwin held out her gown. A gesture of intimacy. When she took the garment, their fingers brushed, and she smothered a fresh bloom of despondency.
“Shall I help you?”
“Thank you, but I can manage.” She fastened the garment and smoothed it into place, then quickly tidied her hair.
After donning his cloak and picking up his crossbow and quiver, Aldwin opened her chamber door and they stepped out into the passageway. He drew the door shut with a firm click, and Leona blew out a shaky breath. Had de Lanceau finished speaking with her father? The fate of this keep and its good folk remained unknown to her.
She would find out, though, once they reached the great hall.
A man was striding toward them in the torch-lit passage.
Dominic.
“There you are. Aldwin, Geoffrey is asking for you. Where were you?” After glancing from Aldwin to Leona to the chamber door, Dominic arched his eyebrows.
Aldwin brushed past his fellow warrior. “We are headed to the great hall now.”
“I see.” Dominic matched Aldwin’s strides. He glanced back at Leona, following close behind. To her annoyance, her face warmed. “All is well, Lady Ransley?”
“Aye.”
“Why would it not be?” Aldwin grumbled.
Dominic’s chuckle carried in the passage. “You hope to be knighted at the end of this mission. You would not want any misunderstandings to muddy that honor.”
“No misunderstandings,” Aldwin said, sounding tense. They reached the stairwell and hurried down to the hall.
The baron’s body was gone, and servants were replacing the bloodied rushes with fresh ones and dried herbs. Leona searched the chattering crowd of men-at-arms and castle folk until she spotted her father, standing near the dais, speaking with de Lanceau.
Aldwin strode toward them. As she followed, both men looked their way.
De Lanceau smiled. “Aldwin.”
“Milord.” He dropped to one knee on the rushes and bowed his head.
Leona frowned. ’Twas rather dramatic of Aldwin.
De Lanceau waved his hand. “That is not necessary, Aldwin. Rise. I have spoken at length with Lord Ransley, and—”
“Milords.” His head still lowered, Aldwin said, “I ask your forgiveness and consideration.”
A knot formed in Leona’s throat as she studied his blond head. What was he doing? Why must he delay the announcement of what was to become of Pryerston?
“Explain,” de Lanceau said.
“In private, please, milord.”
De Lanceau paused before motioning to the crowd in the hall. “Leave us.”
The throng filed out, until only Leona, her father, de Lanceau, Dominic, and Aldwin remained. The fire crackling in the hearth seemed unsually loud, and she clasped her hands together to ward off unwelcome nervousness.
“What do you wish to tell us?” de Lanceau demanded.
“I ask forgiveness for my failures in my mission to bring you the pendant. I realize those failures may cost me my dream of knighthood.”
“I see,” de Lanceau said, frowning.
“I also ask forgiveness for lying with Lady Ransley.”
Leona gasped. “Aldwin!” How dare he speak of their intimacy? How could he be so insensitive? Her face flamed.
“You did what?” her father bellowed. “I knew you were a knave! I knew it. Leona, my poor daughter . . .”
She cringed at the anguish in her sire’s voice, while rage and hurt welled up inside her. Plowing her hands into her hair, she stared at the trusses overhead and tried to think of a way out of the quandary.
“You took Lady Ransley to your bed,” de Lanceau said, his tone severe.
“Aye.” Aldwin blew out a breath. “Actually, her bed.”
Leona groaned an oath. “Aldwin, please.” Next, would he say she seduced him like a lusty tavern courtesan? How humiliating!
“You lay with her in this keep?” her sire raged. “You, who almost killed her with your senseless game when she was a girl?”
Aldwin visibly tensed, but he didn’t move from where he knelt. “I did. ’Twas rash and irresponsible, I know, but . . . Aye.”
“My daughter, ruined! ’Tis unacceptable! Lord de Lanceau—”
His lordship thrust up his hand and appeared about to speak.
“I am a man of honor, milords,” Aldwin quickly added. “I take no action lightly. I accept full responsibility for my weakness and want to make this situation right. Therefore, I ask to be granted Leona’s hand in marriage.”
Leona choked. Lowering her hands to her sides, she glared at Aldwin’s back, sorely tempted to march over and wallop him. He’d turned their wondrous lovemaking into some kind of honorable duty? He felt he had no choice but to wed her, since he’d yielded to the serpent of desire and disgraced her?
Through a blinding haze of fury, she heard de Lanceau call her name.
“Lady Ransley,” de Lanceau said again, studying her. “Did Aldwin force you to your bed? If so—”
Unable to look at her sire, she shook her head. “’Twas what I wanted, too.”
Her father moaned. “Leona.”
Aldwin pushed to standing and smiled at her.
Tears blurred her vision. As she blinked them away, his smile vanished.
He hurried to her.
“How could you do this to me?” She stepped back, painfully aware of the other men witnessing her anxiety. “I will not marry you. Not this way!”
Before she could move out of reach, Aldwin caught her hands. The gentle press of his fingers sent anguish slashing through her.
“I realize how my words must have sounded.”
“Do you?” She smacked his shoulder. “You arrogant . . . turd!”
Dominic snorted a laugh, and a grin softened Aldwin’s mouth. “I deserved that. Yet I spoke true, Leona. I want you to be my wife.”
A short while ago in her chamber, lying in his arms, she might have longed for such. But now? “Why do you want it?” she bit out. “Because you regret being impulsive? Because you feel guilty for what took place between us?”
“Never.” Lifting her right hand to his lips, he kissed each of her fingers. “What we shared was beautiful. Passionate. Unique. Just like you.”
Leona sniffled. “Aldwin—”
“I said such because . . .” I am trying to salvage my wretched honor before my lord, so I can finally be knighted—
“I love you.”
She squinted at him. “Wha
t?”
He smiled with such tenderness, her stomach swooped. “I love you, Lioness. I vow I have loved you since we met many years ago. I want you to be mine.”
“God’s blood,” her father muttered. “I need a drin—I mean, to sit down.” A bench scraped somewhere near the dais.
Leona’s breath rushed out on a shaky gasp. What should she believe? She was so afraid to give in to the giddy joy surging inside her. “You are not asking me out of a sense of duty?”
Still holding her hand, Aldwin dropped to one knee on the rushes. “If I never attain knighthood, I will accept such,” he said gravely. “As long as I can spend my life with you.”
“I cannot believe what I am hearing,” Dominic said.
“Indeed.” De Lanceau sounded equally astonished. “You would give up knighthood to wed this lady?”
“I would.”
She trembled inside as Aldwin gazed up at her, his handsome face most solemn. “Leona, my Warrior Lioness, will you be my wife?”
Her lips quivered into a smile. “The wife of an ‘arrogant turd’?”
He chuckled. “I hope that one day, you might bestow upon me a more affectionate name.”
She smiled, tears flooding her eyes. “One day, I shall.”
“You . . .” His eyes widened. “Then . . .”
“Aye, I will marry you.”
“Leona!” He lunged to his feet, drew her into his arms, and crushed his lips to hers. With a happy cry, she melted against him. Was it wrong to want to grab his hand and race with him back to her chamber? Oh, but how she wanted to—
De Lanceau cleared his throat. “You do realize, Aldwin, that you are not the first man to have his heart conquered by a strong woman?”
Aldwin frowned. “Conquered, milord?”
De Lanceau grinned, then gestured to her sire. “Lord Ransley, of course, must give his blessing to this arrangement. Do you, milord?”
With Aldwin’s arms firmly about her waist, Leona glanced at her father. Please, say “aye.”
“Well—” he grumbled.
“Within the next few days,” de Lanceau added, “I will send a letter of commendation to Aldwin’s parents, to advise them of his exceptional work on this difficult mission. Among his accomplishments, I will be sure to note how he rescued Leona from cutthroats, helped liberate Pryerston from murderous conspirators, and saved my life in the midst of a bloody battle. He is, in my opinion, a hero worthy of his own glorious chanson.”
A Knight's Temptation (Knight's Series Book 3) Page 32