The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She ended by throwing up her arms and spinning away from him, feeling the exasperation all over again. Before he could say a word she swung around again; she wasn’t finished quite yet.

  “If ye truly are my friend as ye say ye are, English, then do one thing for me,” she demanded. “Dunna play games with my feeble mind and dunna lie to me. If ye hate me, then get on with it. I would much rather know with what I am dealing with than this constant confusion I am dealing with.”

  William looked at her. She was so damn beautiful when she was flushed with anger. Her pale green eyes were like huge open pools of light. He could see her point of view, but she did not understand the circumstances in the least. With a few exceptions, his actions had been well planned and calculated and he did not regret anything he had done.

  “My lady,” he began softly. “I am sorry you have been so disturbed, truly I am, but there are certain rules of conduct that I must adhere to. When we are in front of my men, I must treat you as the future Countess of Teviot. That means that I am respectful at all times but not overtly friendly. How my men see how I treat you will shape the way they perceive you. As for when we are alone, like this, there are no rules and I can act toward you as I would like to. I want to show you kindness and friendship, so I do.”

  Now it was time for her to feel like a fool. True, she had been glad when she had voiced her feelings, but now she felt so small she would have liked nothing better than to crawl under a rock and hide.

  Jordan had no idea what to say. She didn’t want to make things worse. He had explained himself and she understood, but he had not apologized nor had he had any response to her mention of the past two nights.

  Ashamed, she would not let him see what she was feeling. She took a risk and in as much brought it on herself. The only thing left to do was to gather what was left of her dignity and face him.

  “Then I thank ye for taking the time to explain everything to me,” she said formally. “I am not as worldly or as refined as most ladies and dinna realize what you were doing. I should have. I apologize for my outbursts. It wunna happen again.”

  Sweet Jesu,’ how she wanted to run away from him and hide until he forgot this whole conversation. She turned away from him and quickly gathered the remainder of her meal. Her hands were shaking and she prayed that he did not notice. Without looking at him, she gathered her skirts with her one hand and attempted to walk past him as regally as she could manage.

  “Jordan,” his voice was gritty.

  She stopped but did not turn around. “Sir knight?”

  “Look at me,” he commanded softly.

  She did, hesitantly. She did not want to see what was in his eyes. But once her green orbs locked onto the hazel-gold, she could not tear herself away.

  “I…I have enjoyed the nights, too,” he almost whispered it. Her eyes widened. It was a secret they shared now and she felt her knees go weak. Even if it could never be, it was still wonderful to know that he felt it, too.

  “ ’Tis most sinful that I feel that way,” she admitted with a half-smile. “I shouldna have even told ye. I dinna mean to embarrass ye.”

  He returned her smile. “You did not,” he said. She was calmer now, easier to talk to. “I truly am sorry that I have made you daft, as you said. That was never my intention. In fact, I probably should not be standing here alone with you at all. Should the earl hear rumors from the men, it ’twould be delicate to explain.

  “Why should I care what they say?” she said. “Ye have been nothing but a perfect knight.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank you,” he said.

  They walked out of the trees together, a couple of feet between them. Jordan felt much better than she had just moments earlier. In truth, his few words had explained quite a bit and she was glad to know his behavior towards her had not been personal. And the fact that he had acknowledged her most personal statement was more satisfying than he could ever know. Her mood was rapidly lightening.

  “Tell me, English, were ye angry at me when I stopped to pick the flowers?” she was half teasing.

  “Furious,” he told her.

  “Not to mention that ’twas most humiliating for yer knights,” she smiled mischievously.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, seeing that she had realized what she had been doing all along. The little scamp. He had wondered, but God’s truth, she had acted the innocent.

  “Not to mention,” he agreed. “There is an evil child underneath that beautiful facade, my lady. And I wonder who it was that taught Kieran to call Deinwald a ‘son-of-a-Scot dog’ in Gaelic?”

  She laughed, twirling away from him. The dress belled up when she spun and he caught a glimpse of her shapely legs. When she stopped, her hand was over her mouth and she was still giggling. He came to a halt and put his hands on his hips, feigning irritation with her.

  “Why are you laughing like that?” he demanded as sternly as he could. “Deinwald did not think it the least bit funny.”

  She tried to straighten up. “Nay, he wouldna, but Sir Kieran and I thought it was a hysterical joke.” A strange gleam suddenly caught her eye and she began to laugh aloud all over again. “Speaking of jokes….”

  Her laughter was infectious. He was smiling and trying to be reproachful at the same time. “Good God, now what are you talking about?”

  She skipped over to him, her eyes alive with laughter and mischief. God’s truth, she could melt him to the core with those eyes and her charm was unequaled. He had the sudden urge to take her into his arms and kiss her until she fainted.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Do ye want to see something funny, English?”

  He tried to look grim. “I do not know. Does it involve me?”

  “Nay.” she cried, then tugged on his arm. “Come and watch.”

  He allowed her to lead him over to where Jemma sat on the grass by the stream. She let go of him for a moment to lean over her cousin and whisper something into her ear. Jemma’s eyes went wide, with fear William thought, but she nodded quickly.

  As Jemma rose and walked away, William dared to grasp Jordan’s arm and pull her to him. “What is going on?”

  Jordan put her hand over his. She was smiling broadly.

  “Watch.” She did not remove her hand. Instead, her fingers curled around his own, warm and soft.

  William would have much rather watched her, but instead he did as she asked and watched Jemma as she appeared to be heading for Paris.

  Paris saw her approach and immediately the battle lines were drawn.

  Jemma looked up at him with great reluctance. “Sir Paris, I have lost a bet and I must pay.”

  Paris cocked his eyebrow warily. “What do I have to do with it?”

  “I must pay my bet… with ye.”

  He scowled. “And how are you to pay? What sort of evil spell are you to cast on me? Or, perchance, is there something else involved like your fist to my mouth? Hell, why am I involved at all?”

  Jemma shot a nasty look back to Jordan before continuing. She crooked her finger at Paris. “Come here. Lean down.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Please?”

  He was about to refuse again when she begged again, with more conviction. Knowing full well he should not comply and knowing further that he was going to regret it, he bent down and was completely astounded when she planted a big, wet kiss right on his mouth.

  The knights and soldiers who saw it exploded with laughter, including William. Paris jumped away like he had been struck while Jemma simply put her hand over her mouth as if she were going to be sick. She quickly made her way back to Jordan over the hoots of the men and scowled viciously at her cousin.

  “I have probably caught the pox from him,” she sputtered.

  Jordan was laughing so hard she could not answer. She laughed harder when Jemma shoved her whole face in the stream as if to wash away Paris’ residue.

  Suddenly, Paris was beside Jordan. “What was that all about?” he gasped.
/>
  Jordan put a hand on his arm, still chortling. “Oh, Sir Paris, dunna act as if ye have been kissed by a goat. ’Twas a beautiful young lady that has just favored ye.”

  Paris had to continue the bluster or everyone would know that he had enjoyed the kiss. It had been such a nice surprise that he was fighting off a blush.

  “No knight likes to be…favored in front of his men,” Paris snorted. “Isn’t that true, William?”

  William was smiling broadly. “I do not know that for a fact, Paris,” he said. “You looked as if you enjoyed it.”

  “Had she kissed you, there would have been hell to pay,” Paris pointed out, then looked at Jemma as she knelt by the water. “Try that again, banshee, and I shall take a strap to you.”

  Jemma stood up, shaking the water from her hands. “Ye dunna have to worry about that,” she said. “I told ye that I had to pay off a wager and I swear on Saint Mary that I shall never agree to that payoff again.”

  Paris looked at Jordan. “You put her up to this, didn’t you? You are the one who taught Kieran how to curse in Gaelic and now he tortures Deinwald with it.” He was pretending to be outraged but she could see that he was not. “What kind of bet was it?”

  Jordan did not want to get into that subject. Mayhap she could bluff her way out of explaining what arrogant declaration had led up to this kiss.

  “A lady’s bet, Sir Paris,” she said coyly, lowering her lashes at him. “Nothing at all ye would be interested in. Isna it time to leave yet?”

  “Yes, it is, and I would be very interested to know what kind of wager it was, too,” William said from the other side of her.

  She was boxed in. Jemma was grinning like an idiot at her, liking that the tables had turned on her overly-confident cousin. Jordan’s mind was working furiously for a solution. She was afraid that if she told them a lie that Jemma would reveal her, so she struggled for a way to get around the truth without actually fibbing.

  “Very well,” she said, turning to William but not looking at him. “If ye must know, I bet Jemma that ye would let me pick the flowers we saw today. She said ye wouldna.”

  “How did you know that we were going to see any flowers today?” William countered.

  She looked up at him then. “Sweet Jesu,’ English, ’tis spring. How could we not see any?”

  He looked down at her a moment. She was probably lying, but he did not care. He went along with her. “And you bet Jemma that if I let you pick flowers, then she would have to kiss Paris?”

  She nodded. “Aye.”

  William shrugged. “Seems a little severe to me. And what was the cost to you if you lost the bet?”

  Jordan opened her mouth to answer him the truth – that she had bet her burgundy silk – but Jemma jumped in before she could speak.

  “She had to kiss ye.” her cousin yelled wickedly.

  Jordan’s cheeks flushed. William did not change expressions.

  “I see,” he said evenly.

  Thankfully, the knights had the army assembled and a loud whistle cut the air to let Paris and William know they were ready to move. Jordan was deeply embarrassed and tried to move toward Jemma but William grasped her arm and pulled her with him.

  Everyone was moving in preparation for the final leg to Northwood. Jordan and William were walking alone towards his destrier and she was praying that he would forget all about the previous conversation. She had no desire to continue it.

  “No wonder you flew like a frightened deer into that field of flowers,” he commented. “You did not want to lose the bet.”

  Jordan rolled her eyes miserably. “ ’Tis not true, I tell ye,” she said. “I was simply pleased to see all of the delightful wildflowers and wanted to pick some before ye came and dragged me away. I am going to make soap from them, and perfume.”

  “Then I am glad to hear that you won the bet of your own merit and not because you found me repulsive,” he said as they reached his animal.

  His statement was completely ridiculous and she found herself answering before she could stop herself.

  “English, ye are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” she snapped as if he had made a ridiculous statement. “To say that ye are repulsive is the most stupid thing I have ever heard. And I….”

  Her head flew up to look at him as she became aware of what she had said. He was smiling so sweetly at her that the humiliation she was washing with was overtaken by a strange sort of boldness. He wasn’t at all offended or embarrassed by her statement, and if he wasn’t, why should she be? It gave her a queer sense of power. Did he truly believe she thought him to be repulsive?

  She scowled at him. “And if I wanted to kiss ye, then I would do it. I dunna need any bet to prod me into it.”

  Before he could react in any way, she vaulted onto his horse, dress and all. She surprised herself with her boldness, but she was pleased, too. Mayhap some of Jemma’s fire was rubbing off on her.

  William pulled on his gauntlets, never taking his eyes off of her. “My, my,” he clucked quietly. “It seems our sweet Lady Jordan has a little bit of banshee in her as well.”

  She smiled at him. She waited until he had mounted behind her and helped her get settled.

  “What about ye, English?” she asked casually.

  He lifted his helmet, preparing to put it on. “What about me, my lady?”

  “Would ye have to be prodded into kissing me or would ye do it if ye wanted to?” she asked bravely. By damn, if her whole life didn’t seem to hang on his answer. She knew she was being reckless and foolish, but at that moment she didn’t care.

  William froze, helmet midway to his head. His mind was reeling; hell, he’d wanted to kiss her from practically the moment they met. He knew, God help him, that by the way she was asking she wanted him to kiss her. There was no doubt in his mind.

  They were several yards away from the rest of the company, facing into some trees where his horse had wandered. He could steal a kiss from her and no one would ever see it. Once they reached Northwood, the odds that he would ever see her alone again were against him.

  He knew he would never have her, but he could not go to his grave not knowing how sweet she tasted. It was as wrong as it could possibly be, a betrayal of all he stood for as a knight, as de Longley’s most trusted warrior, but he didn’t care. He had to taste her.

  With his free hand, he grasped her under the chin and pulled her around to face him. His hand enveloped half of her head, her silk akin incredible to the touch. Without a word his mouth came down on hers and he instantly knew she was the sweetest thing he had ever had the fortune to savor. His tongue pried open her lips, licking her mouth as if he had been thirsting for her his entire life. She was more unbelievable than he had ever imagined.

  The kiss was only supposed to last a moment, but he was becoming consumed. He was a man whose life had never been anything but completely organized and controlled and he was unused to impulsiveness, especially like this. But he had to have her.

  His hand was gripping her so tightly that he might be strangling her, but all he could think of was her honeyed mouth, her soft skin, the smell of Lavender in his nostrils. His kiss grew more demanding, silently ordering her to open wider, to allow him to do what he must in order to ravish her thoroughly. To his complete relief and dismay, she was responding eagerly.

  He knew he had to stop. He hadn’t meant to do anything more than taste her but he was gorging himself, and when she started making little whimpering noises deep in her throat, he gave her a final lick and pulled away. He had to or he would have been a dead man. Hell, he was already ruined. He would never be able to kiss another woman again and not think of her.

  Her lips were red, her eyes half-closed. Had this happened last night he would have bedded her without a doubt. His face was no more than an inch from hers.

  “Does that answer your question?” he asked huskily.

  She blinked at him like a woman coming out of a trance. Her eyes widened and she swallow
ed.

  “Oh, English,” she whispered. “I liked that.”

  “So did I,” he rasped, taking one final moment to gently stroke her face. He could not help himself.

  Behind them, a familiar female voice was raised. William immediately slammed on his helmet and turned the destrier around, mayhap a bit too hard and the animal snickered a protest. They rode over to where Jemma was standing several feet away from the knights, her back turned to them and her head bowed.

  “What’s this?” William demanded, his authoritative tone returned and not a trace of the seductive voice he had used on her just a half-second before. “Lady Jemma, get up with Kieran. I have no time for this foolishness.”

  “She can ride with Paris,” Kieran’s helmet was on and his visor down. He sounded angry.

  “I do not want a passenger,” Paris said frankly. His visor was down, too.

  William was thoroughly angry. “I do not give a damn what either of you want. You’ll do as I say,” he looked down at Jemma again before closing his own visor. “Get on with Kieran.”

  “No.” Jemma cried. Then she ran off.

  Jordan had an idea as to what must have happened. Kieran was attracted to Jemma and when she kissed Paris he became incensed. It was all her fault. Behind her, she knew William was about to take their heads off and she twisted around to face him.

  His visor was down. She reached up and raised it.

  “Let me talk to Kieran,” she said quietly.

  He frowned. “What in the hell for?”

  “Please?” she persisted.

  He glared at her but lifted her gently to the ground. Jordan made her way to Kieran and after a few words, he got down off the animal and stood in front of her.

  William watched with a mixture of curiosity and irritation, wondering what she was saying to his knight. She looked completely at ease and her pretty hands gestured here and there. After a minute or so he saw Kieran nod his head slowly and Jordan smiled.

  She walked back over to William and raised her arms. He lifted her back onto his lap.