His gaze narrowed. A flash of anger darkened his eyes. “You will tell me all you aren’t saying when we bed down for the night, so prepare yourself.”
Jessamine nodded stiffly. They fell silent as Jessamine grappled with what she would say to him when the time came. Her fear slowly receded as she listened to the sound of Alan’s breathing against her ear. She found the sound comforting despite the fact he was angry with her. She couldn’t blame him. He’d come here on a quest and he’d ended up with trouble.
Despite it all, a sense of exhilaration moved through Jessamine because she was finally doing something with her life, not just meekly accepting her fate. She was taking a stand, reaching out for what she wanted—to follow where the prophecy led her, for better or worse. For a short while, she would have her freedom.
Idly, she traced the threads of her new gown. She liked the simple garment. She especially liked the way it made her look. Ordinary. Until three days ago, she would never have dared to try leading an ordinary life. Having left the court, the palace, and all the responsibilities of being a princess behind her, she was filled not with fear, but joy.
She realized that for the past nineteen years she’d been a prisoner. Her uncle loved her, but since she wasn’t his child, and her parents no longer lived, she was often ignored, and isolated.
Out here, in the desert, she was free from the demands of court, the king, and all his expectations. Out here, she was simply Jessamine. She could blend into a crowd. She could do whatever she wanted for the first time in her life. A shiver coursed through her as both exhilaration and fear tightened her chest.
Alan wanted answers. She’d tell the knight at least some of the truth. But nothing would make her admit to being a princess.
She glanced up at the darkening sky. The sun was setting quickly.
As if in response to her thoughts, Alan said, “The darkness will offer us protection, fear not.”
“With you, I’m not afraid,” she admitted, gazing back into his face.
His eyebrows drew together. “You shouldn’t say such things to me.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s the truth, and that’s what you asked me to give you.”
“So I did.” Regret tinged his voice.
Jessamine drew a long, shaky breath. “I’ll tell you what you want to know now.” She felt his muscles tense against her back. “The truth is,” she said softly, “when you found me on the battlefield—”
“You could have died,” he interrupted.
“For a moment I wanted to. That outcome seemed preferable to sacrificing myself on the altar of marriage.”
“He is your bridegroom?” Alan inquired in a harsh voice.
Jessamine shook her head. “No. Never. He wants to marry me only for the—” She stopped abruptly. She’d almost betrayed herself. Any mention of political advantage would only raise more questions. “He’s a brutal man,” she admitted. Alan had witnessed some of that brutality today. She prayed that one glimpse would garner his support.
“He’s hit you?”
“Yes,” she replied, pulling back her hair to reveal the bruise on her cheek. “He would have done worse had I not run onto that battlefield. He killed my mother.”
“God’s teeth! No woman deserves such brutality.” His eyes grew stormy.
Jessamine closed her eyes, fighting back tears once more. She would not be so weak as to cry in front of this knight. She wasn’t the kind of woman who manipulated men through female weakness. She straightened her shoulders and opened her eyes.
“Not all men are brutal, Jessamine,” he said softly against her ear. “You deserve someone to love you, not cause you pain.”
The husky sincerity in his voice stole her breath. She met his eyes. His gaze was personal, intimate. Again her breath faltered. This wasn’t the foolish repartee she was used to from the men at court.
This man might be a Christian warrior monk, but he was dangerous. With him, she felt as breathless as she did protected. A dangerous combination.
Disturbed by her thoughts, she turned to face the open expanse of desert. The only sound was the whisper of their breath in the cooling, motionless air.
When he finally stopped the horse, the stars hung high in the velvet black sky. “The horse needs a rest, as do we. We’ll stop here for the night.”
Jessamine searched the moonlit darkness. They’d stopped near a rock outcropping that towered high overhead. Alan dismounted first, then helped her down. As she slid down beside him, she could feel his hard length. Instantly, the tension that had built between them before surged back to life. His hands encircled her waist, gentle, yet firm. She should have felt threatened, overpowered, engulfed. Instead, she felt the stirrings of passion. Her gaze rose to his face. A somber and tender expression lingered there.
“We’ll sleep in the open then?” she asked. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.
His gaze lost its softness. “We’ll be safe enough. I can see and hear anyone who approaches.”
“Won’t you sleep?”
“Not likely.”
“But you’ll need your rest if the conde—”
“You’d be surprised how little sleep one needs to battle an enemy.”
She could imagine he’d known many sleepless nights. She had too, in the past few days since they’d met. It wasn’t Alan that caused her sleeplessness. It was the conde. She would do anything she could to escape the man who’d killed her mother.
“He’s my enemy,” she said quietly, hearing the catch in her own voice.
“For now, it makes him mine as well,” Alan said softly.
As she gazed into those mesmerizing blue eyes of his, with his hands on her waist, Jessamine’s breath stilled in her chest. At that moment the conde and the threat he offered were the furthest things from her mind. Nothing seemed to matter except the sound of Alan’s deep, compelling voice.
Heat came into his eyes. His body remained rigid, yet he pulled her slightly forward and his lips nearly brushed her hair before he set her away.
A dull ache of disappointment tightened her chest as they looked at each other in silence. “Where do we sleep?” she asked, trying to break the tension.
“On the ground would be most appropriate.”
“Do we sleep now…?” Jessamine’s voice trailed off as she looked at this tall, handsome man who was completely off-limits to her. Not only was he beneath her socially, he was also a self-proclaimed monk. Swallowing, she tried again, “Are you tired?”
“My thoughts have little to do with sleep,” he said in a husky whisper. Suddenly his eyes were smoldering. He shifted toward her, then went utterly still, as if waiting expectantly for her to take the final step that would bring them close once more.
She took that step. His arms encircled her and a warm, searching mouth descended on hers. Parted lips, both tender and insistent, stroked hers, molding them, shaping them to his. Just when she felt she would melt in his arms, the kiss deepened. His hands tightened on her back, her shoulders, caressing and possessive.
A needy sigh escaped her as she reached up, her hands grasping his broad shoulders, clinging to them for support in a world where nothing mattered anymore except experiencing more of this dangerous passion.
When he finally dragged his mouth from hers, he kept her close in the circle of his arms. She laid her cheek against the rough texture of his robe, feeling his lips brush the hair atop her head. His heart thudded in his chest, matching the cadence of her own frantic heartbeat.
What had just happened? Never had she felt so swept away by a force outside herself. She drew a shuddering breath. Was this the kind of passion her mother and father had shared? The kind of overwhelming desire that stole logic and reason—the kind of madness that had made her father give up his crown in order to spend his days in exile with her mother?
“That was a mistake,” he whispered into the darkness. “God help us both.”
“You’re right,” she admitted, placing distance be
tween them. “That was a mistake.”
When Jessamine felt more in control, she brought her gaze to his. “We…” She spoke the word with emphasis, praying she would find the strength to put into words what must be said. “We must never give ourselves over to such abandon again. From this point on, we need to behave with proper decorum.”
The glint of his smile shone in the dark. “Is that how it’s done in Spain?”
“We need to behave twice as properly now to make up for our lack earlier.”
“If you insist,” he said, bowing, then extending his arm out to her. “Milady, it would be my pleasure to escort you to your bed for the night.”
His words were probably not the most proper, but she understood his meaning. She placed her fingers on his arm and allowed him to walk her to the outcropping. In the moonlight, she could make out a smooth patch below it. She released his arm and settled on the ground. Jessamine curled her legs beneath the skirt of her gown. She leaned her head back against the rock outcropping. “The moon and the stars are so beautiful tonight.”
He settled on the ground beside her, careful to maintain a proper distance. “That is one thing we all have in common.”
“What is that?”
“The night sky. The moon and the stars follow us wherever we go.”
“That’s a comforting thought.” She tipped her head back and concentrated on the stars. She searched for familiar star patterns. Instead, her attention was caught by a strange blue star that hovered slightly lower than all the rest. It hung in the night sky just off to her left. Now it shifted its position to directly above them.
A chill moved along her flesh. “That star…” She pointed to the small blue orb, which moved yet again to her right. Jessamine tensed. “Are stars supposed to move?”
Alan must have seen it too, because he got to his feet. “I’ve seen flashes of light in the night sky that were falling stars.”
Jessamine stood beside him. “This one isn’t falling.”
“Nay, it’s slowly spiraling downward,” he agreed with a note of wonder. “Perhaps it’s lightning. I’ve heard tales of lightning that forms in balls instead of streaks across the sky.”
Jessamine stepped closer to Alan’s side as the orb descended toward them. She reached for his arm, needing the feel of something solid as she realized that the star was actually a blue light no larger than her fist. “Alan—”
“I see. It is no star.”
Chapter Eight
The fist-sized orb of blue light came closer, until it hovered at Alan’s eye level. The odd light hung there, as though waiting. Alan stepped away from Jessamine, drew his sword, then positioned himself in front of her.
Jessamine felt her mouth part in wonder. Despite the nervousness that rooted her to the ground, she could honestly say she wasn’t afraid. A strange kind of calm descended over her in the light’s presence. The blue orb moved from Alan to her.
He shifted, and raised his sword. Jessamine stilled his movements with a hand on his sword arm. “I don’t think it wants to hurt us,” she whispered.
“That’s good, because I doubt my sword will have any effect on it.” A heartbeat later, the blue orb swirled around both their heads, then spiraled into the night sky and disappeared.
Jessamine stood silent, staring into the dark space the light had just occupied. The soft whoosh of leather against steel sounded as Alan sheathed his sword.
“It’s a sign,” she whispered.
“Of what?” he asked.
“That we are blessed.”
Alan shook his head. “Sometimes, there is no meaning behind things that happen.”
“I refuse to believe that. The blue light meant something special.” She straightened and turned to face him.
“I’m taking it as a sign that we’re on the right track with our quest. It’s one more affirmation that destiny is showing us the way.”
“Believe what you like.” He motioned with his hand toward the rock outcropping behind them. “Come, let’s try to get some rest, even if neither of us can sleep. We’ll need to start off early tomorrow morning to make certain we stay ahead of your bridegroom.”
“He’s not my bridegroom.”
He released a soft chuckle. “It was a joke.”
“Not a funny one,” she replied as they repositioned themselves on the ground. “Where do we go next?”
He leaned his head back against the rock and with his hand beckoned her to lean against his shoulder. She stiffened. How she wanted to lay her head down on his shoulder, but she knew she must not. Touching him now, when she was tired and still baffled by the mysterious light, might prove a dangerous combination. She had to resist what he offered.
“Tomorrow morning we enter the Judean wilderness on the western side of the Dead Sea.”
“Why? Is that where you believe the Ark of the Covenant is?”
“It’s where the clues lead.”
Silence hovered between them for a time as the stars glittered and the heat of the day slipped away to leave a bitter chill. “Alan?” Jessamine sat up. “Why do you think the prophecy brought us together?”
In the half-light provided by the stars, his features shuttered. “It was the war, not the prophecy that brought us together.”
“I don’t believe that any more than I believe the blue light was nothing but a coincidence,” she said softly. She leaned back slightly and studied the man beside her. His eyes were his most arresting feature—as light as the sky one moment, and as dark as midnight the next. His eyes commanded attention, and at times seemed to probe too deeply. His gaze moved over her now, assessing her. Did he find her wanting?
“I’m your partner in this quest, just as the prophecy revealed,” he said.
“But you don’t believe in the prophecy,” she reminded him.
“I believe in God, not in fate or destiny. I believe in things I can see and touch.”
She laughed. “And you’ve seen God, have you?”
A dark look crossed his features. He grasped a handful of sand and allowed it to run through his fingers to the ground. “Nay, but I can see the proof of God in this sand and the rock at my back. I can see his goodness in your eyes, and feel his divine presence in the whisper of the night air.”
“I believe in all that, and more.” She leaned her head back against the rock. “Sometimes there are other forces that guide our lives. It’s been my experience that people are led to the things they need. They must then open their eyes and accept the gifts they’ve been given. It’s not some divine being who’s acting on their behalf, it’s free will. People are given choices that determine what happens next in their lives.” She let her words trail off at the irritated scowl he turned on her.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Fine. We are at an impasse. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Aye, we’ll drop it for now,” he replied with a thicker brogue than usual.
Silence hung heavy between them until finally he sighed. “If you want me to believe in the prophecy, then tell me what else it foretells, more slowly this time.”
Was he laughing at her again, or was he truly interested? Jessamine frowned. “The second stanza of the prophecy talks of a mount or, I’ve always assumed it to mean, a mountain.”
“Tell me.”
“‘Thunder and lightning, a cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet shall call out loud. Only without sight will you know what is real and bring to the world the hidden seal.’” The words rolled off her tongue as they had so many times before, except now they had meaning and context. Alan had said they were heading into the wilderness—mountainous wilderness, from what she’d seen before the sun had set. “Does that make sense to you?”
He nodded. “In my research, I came across a reference to the trumpet of God found in the ancient city of Petra.”
“Petra?” she asked.
“The city of stone.”
Jessamine had no idea what or where Petra w
as, but the very word sounded exotic. She stared out into the vast expanse of darkness and felt her tension and nervousness evaporate. The conde would never find her in the wilderness. She was safe to follow the prophecy and her own dreams.
Jessamine shifted away from Alan and settled against the rock at her back, careful not to touch any part of him. She needed the distance to center her thoughts—something she found increasingly harder to do when Alan touched her.
She tipped her head to look at the wondrous display of stars overhead. The sky was so immense, the stars were so sharp, so clear. She felt as though she were falling into those stars instead of looking up at them. A sense of awe moved through her, and for the first time she felt a touch of gratitude toward the conde. If he hadn’t come after her, she would never have found the courage to leave her uncle or her home, to follow the prophecy.
She drew a deep breath and quietly reveled in the breeze that brushed against her cheeks in soft, cool waves. The night stilled and she heard the ripple of the leaves in the distant acacia trees, the slip of the sand as it drifted across the desert floor. And beside her, she heard the soft cadence of Alan’s breathing. The sounds were hypnotic, lulling her into a quiet peacefulness where sleep awaited.
Alan came awake with a start. Nothingness curled around him. The stars had faded from the night sky. The world around him seemed suddenly thick and suffocating. The air held a tension that had not been there before. He felt swallowed by the nothingness, surrounded, watched. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword as his heart sped up. The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He’d felt such nothingness many times just before an enemy struck. It was as if the physical world could sense the coming conflict, the pain, the death, and responded with silence.
Nay! He chided himself, trying to banish his fears. Someone was out there, but this was no war. He was in control of the situation because he’d been warned. He gripped his sword and silently withdrew it from its sheath. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could now make out the dark shape of the rock behind him, the trees in the distance. The world was not black but a deep, hazy gray. Alan focused his thoughts and listened to the only other recognizable sound—the regular intake and release of Jessamine’s breathing.
Seducing the Knight Page 6