Immortal Surrender (Curse of the Templars)

by Claire Ashgrove

  As if he hadn’t heard her, he pulled on his shirt. “I apologize for my trespass, damsel. ’Twill not occur again whilst you reside in the temple. Though we are fated, you shall have freedom to the pleasures you wish, and I shall take mine elsewhere.”

  Her features scrunched together as she tried to process his meaning. The temple, reside … “What?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “Do not be daft. You may have the men you wish. I prefer whores. You shall have no demands from me in that respect. But damsel, you will come with me. We both must answer duty.”

  Shock rocketed through her. She stared, speechless. He was still clinging to that ridiculous tale? Was he nuts? He had to be. Whatever had happened to him as a captive had affected his brain. Made him think he was stuck in a different time. “Don’t be absurd, Farran. I’m not going anywhere but home.”

  His glower silenced her protests. He took four purposeful strides and opened her door. “Ready yourself to travel. Whether you wish it or not, you are mine. Lord knows I do not want you, but the choice is not mine.”

  The door clanged shut with an angry shudder. Stunned, Noelle sat in the middle of the bed. As the understanding she’d just been kidnapped slowly filtered into her consciousness, she made a mad lunge for her purse. She hauled it onto the bed and dumped out the meager contents. Lipstick, tampons, car keys, canister … but no cell phone. She’d left it on her nightstand, plugged in. Despair crashed into her.

  She hurled the empty bag across the room with a frustrated scream. This wasn’t happening. She hadn’t been run off the road and taken to some house she didn’t know. Gabriel’s guard hadn’t turned out to be some psychotic veteran who’d decided to take her prisoner. And she hadn’t just been kissed senseless, only to have the stark reminder of her innocence thrown into her face. He preferred whores. Then what the hell did he want her for when she evidently couldn’t get a single kiss right?

  She dismissed the displaced thought and gnawed on a short fingernail. She’d been kidnapped. Now wasn’t the time to lament her inadequacies with men. She had to find a way out of here. And if Farran’s twisted convictions started with this damn torc, she’d begin by getting rid of it.

  She tugged her arm out of sweatshirt and pushed on the brass adornment.

  To her complete horror, it refused to move.

  Swallowing another frustrated howl, Noelle grabbed her glasses off the nightstand and raced to the window.

  CHAPTER 6

  Farran braced his hands on the kitchen countertop and dragged in deep lungfuls of air. Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the trembling in his body to subside. God’s teeth, that wench provoked something deep inside him. A feeling so buried in his darkened soul he thought he had snuffed the life out of it centuries ago. ’Twas not just desire the brush of her lips stirred, but a sensation far more damning. The gentle sweep of her mouth against his scar carried compassion. Tenderness he had once believed in. Tenderness he learned ’twas naught more than deception.

  Noelle knew men. And like the black-hearted Brighid he had sworn his life to, Noelle knew well how to manipulate him. ’Twas evident in the readiness of her mouth, the willingness of her body. If he had not come to his senses, he would now have her splayed beneath him, and she would have wrenched his vow of loyalty free.

  He would give her the oath to bind them, but he would never pledge himself to her. No matter how comely she was, no matter how she might attempt to coerce him, he would resist. Once had nearly destroyed him. The loss of his wife, his son, his kinsmen’s respect … He would never make that mistake again.

  “Sir Farran?”

  Louise’s voice intruded on his thoughts. He pulled in another haggard breath and lifted his head. “Aye?”

  She crossed to the large window that overlooked the backside of her expansive lawn. Leaning a hip against the counter, she cocked her head and looked up toward the overhanging gables. “How are your climbing skills?”

  His brows furrowed into a tight line. He did not have time to retrieve her cat. With two days between Louise’s adytum and the temple in Missouri, he must get to the halfway point whilst he still possessed the energy to travel. Still, after all she had done for Noelle, he owed Louise the courtesy of his aid. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m afraid you have a little problem.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck lifted in alarm. Noelle. He knew it before Louise ever answered. Grinding his teeth together, he strode to the window. “Where is she?”

  Louise pointed a bony finger toward the white eave. “There. On the trellis outside her window. I noticed her when I was in my room and the bottom half of the trellis broke free. It dropped past my window. She can only go up.”

  A low growl rumbled in his throat. He detested heights. Few things could make his stomach churn, but to look down from anything more than a horse had a worse effect than any severed limb or foul demon’s breath. His stomach knotted at the very thought.

  “There is no other way down?”

  “Oh, there is.” Louise nodded. “An iron ladder on the south side of the house. But if she’s sneaking out windows, good luck convincing her to come to you.”

  “Then I shall wait. Unannounced.” He grabbed his coat off the chair. Another look outside told him Noelle would have to come down sometime soon. She wore only her sweatshirt. “Lock her window, Louise.”

  A knowing smile tugged at the caretaker’s mouth, and she left the room humming a soft tune.

  Farran did not share her good humor. Muttering, he stalked out the front door and made his way through the snow to the south side of the house. He eyed the rusty iron ladder to ensure he did not doom Noelle to a fall. Strong bolts, void of any trace of rust, held it firmly in place against a newly mortared brick wall. It climbed the two stories, fit neatly against the white eave, and rounded onto the roof between a pair of tarnished copper gargoyle heads. Satisfied the ladder would hold, Farran folded his arms over his chest and prepared to wait.

  * * *

  Noelle kicked off the brick exterior and grabbed the next thin trellis slat above her head. Silently, she cursed her luck. If she hadn’t tried to climb down at full speed, she’d have noticed the weak board. Now, with her window too far below to drop onto the sill, she squinted through the sunlight and willed her body to cooperate. Her left side burned. Her shoulder screamed against the effort of holding on. And the wind whipped through her, making stronger muscles weak.

  She grabbed at her courage and climbed higher. Another foot, at most two, and she could rest. Then, she’d find another way down. The lack of shouts within the house told her Farran hadn’t realized she’d escaped. She still had time. Not much, but enough to get to the ground and down the road to the house at the bottom of the hill.

  With a grunt, she climbed up the last of the trellis. She swung her leg, hooked her heel on the eave. Finding finger holds in the sturdy boards, she tuned out the protests in her left side and hauled herself onto the roof. For several minutes, she did nothing but lie on the shingles and pant. Two years of regularly attending the gym was nothing compared to that kind of workout. Scaling the side of a building made forty minutes with weights seem like child’s play. Never mind that in the gym she didn’t have to worry about falling and breaking her neck.

  When her breathing evened out, she pushed to a cross-legged position and took stock of her body. Her right arm trembled as she swiped her hair out of her face. Her ribs felt like someone had kicked her with a steel-toed boot. Everything else ached, but she could ignore the dull pain. She’d feel it tomorrow. Right now, it was insignificant.

  Scanning the roofline, she searched for a means down. Old houses like this almost always had a ladder somewhere. With the decorative gargoyles, the intricate gables, and the narrow attic cupolas to her left, this one wouldn’t disappoint. They were too clean, too cared for, to not have easy access. Unless, of course, the owner removed the old access route in favor of a metal portable.

  Her gaze flicked across
two protruding handles, and Noelle exhaled with relief. Down. Away.

  Finally.

  Careful to keep clear of the edge, she crawled along the steep pitch on all fours. Slow and steady. One hand, one knee, in front of the other. When she reached the distant house, for Gabriel’s sake she’d make no mention of her near kidnapping. She’d come up with a plausible excuse and beg for a ride back to her apartment. Maybe the owners would believe she’d had a fight with her boyfriend and he’d left her on the side of the road.

  She glanced at the still street. Right. No car had passed in the twenty or thirty minutes since she’d made her grand escape. She dismissed the voice of her conscience with a shake of her head. What the owners believed didn’t matter. She’d get a ride to her apartment, grab her cat, and take refuge with Seth. There she’d stay until she reached Gabriel. When he called off his security guard, she’d go back home.

  The ladder loomed before her, and Noelle resisted the urge to shout in triumph. Easing to her belly, she poked her head over the eave to inspect the ladder. This time, she wasn’t going to be hasty. If that length of steel pulled out of the bricks, she’d have a whole lot more to worry about than getting away from Farran. Broken legs, arms …

  Her thoughts screeched to a halt as her gaze dropped to the ground below. There, standing not more than two feet from the bottom rung, Farran stared back. And he didn’t look at all happy to see her.

  Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

  “Come down, Noelle.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the low, even tone held strict warning. Come down, or I’m coming up.

  She dropped her forehead to the shingles with a mutter. She’d give anything for a nice spring day so she could outstubborn that man. As it was though, her teeth chattered in the December breeze, and the patches of snow left on the rooftop had soaked into her clothes. Still, she couldn’t accept defeat so easily. Maybe there was another way down.

  She inched backward, away from the ledge.

  “Noelle!” Crisp, clear, his voice cut through the stillness. “There is one ladder. The very one I am standing beneath.”

  Cringing, Noelle bit back a string of obscenities. How the hell could he possibly know what she’d intended? This was insane. Ludicrous. All she wanted to do was go home. At this point, if she’d had her cell phone she’d call the cops. To hell with Gabriel and his reputation.

  For now, the greater concern remained being in the cold. Before she could get home, she had to get down. She pulled in a deep, fortifying breath. Down it was.

  Stretched out on her belly, she inched around until her feet touched the top rung. She pushed backward, easing her knees over the ledge, then her thighs. As she grabbed for the handles, her right foot slipped on a patch of unseen ice. For a terrifying moment, everything moved in slow motion. Her legs went out from under her. The ground flashed before her eyes. Farran let out a shout. She twisted sideways.

  Noelle clamped her fingers around the handles and hung on. Half on the ladder, half dangling against the brick, a fierce burst of white-hot heat lanced up her arm. She cried out, and tears stung her eyes. Blinking them back, she edged herself back onto the ladder and wrapped the handholds through her elbows. She leaned against the cold metal, her heart drumming against her ribs.

  Trembles broke through her body. Paralyzed by fear, she bowed her head to the slick rung. She couldn’t go up, she couldn’t go down. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. Louder, she repeated, “I can’t do this.”

  “You can. Climb. Go slowly.”

  At the mere thought of letting go at all, her tears burst free. She bit down on her lower lip, trying to stop them. But it was useless. She was stuck and scared. More frightened by the prospect of moving than by the man at the bottom of the ladder. He might be crazy, but he hadn’t hurt her. As her tears coursed freely down her cheeks, she shook her head and choked out, “I can’t move.”

  * * *

  Farran stared up at Noelle, cursing her bad luck, the Almighty, and his fate. He well knew how terror could trap a person, had seen it countless times with unseasoned knights. In her unmoving position, he recognized the signs too clearly. This was no act meant to gain his sympathy. ’Twas no ploy to soften his anger over her attempt at escape. She was truly terrified.

  “Damnation,” he muttered beneath his breath.

  He closed his eyes with an inward prayer his stomach would not revolt and made the mark of the cross over his chest. Eyeing her, he strode to the ladder. She would pay for this later. He would find a way to make certain she came to regret her attempt at escape.

  Do not look down. He chanted the mantra as he climbed the icy rungs. In less time than he had imagined, he arrived at her feet. Holding on with one hand, he placed the other on her calf. “I am here. Climb down.”

  ’Twas then he noticed the shaking of her shoulders, heard her muffled tears. When she did not move, he gave her leg a squeeze. “Noelle, come down. I will not let you fall.”

  “I’m scared,” she murmured.

  Saints’ blood, she did not intend to make this easy. Aye, indeed, he would lock her in her rooms at the temple for a week.

  He assessed her position, made note of the little space her tiny body occupied. Carefully, he tucked his feet between hers and the side rails and eased his body up her legs. When he had pinned her between the ladder and his chest, he stopped. “Grab on to me.”

  She let go with one hand, then clutched at the rail with a fierce shake of her head. “I can’t. I can’t, Farran.”

  At the sound of her broken voice, all his defenses shuddered like a door under the barrage of a battering ram. The anger her defiance provoked dissolved with her sniffle. Deep in his gut, a heavy knot unwound. He pressed his body into hers, molded his thighs around her legs. Holding on with one hand, he pried her fingers off the metal and guided her hand to his shoulder. “Turn around, damsel,” he encouraged quietly. “Wind your arms around my neck, and we shall descend together. I swear to you, I will not let you fall.”

  Dropping his hand to her narrow waist, he steadied her as she pivoted. When her chest brushed against his, she threw her arms around his neck in a stranglehold. Farran grabbed the ladder with both hands and began the slow climb down. With each step, he supported her with his body. Their closeness was enough to torment his senses. The sweet scent of jasmine combined with the way she meshed all around him, set his blood to simmering. He kept his stare fastened on the brick house, knowing if he chanced a glance at her, ’twould be his undoing. He would forget his purpose, use their forced position to take advantage of that sweet mouth once more.

  As his boot crunched into the snow, he expelled a long breath of relief. ’Twas over. He could escape her damning nearness and tuck her safely in the SUV where she could not run. He gave her shoulder a firm push. “Let go, Noelle.”

  Her face tucked into his shoulder, she answered with an adamant shake of her head.

  God’s teeth, she could not still be scared. What in the heavens was the matter with her? His frown firmly intact, he increased the pressure of his hand. “We are on the ground. Let go.”

  Against his chest, her ribs expanded as she took her first normal breath. She lifted her head and looked over his shoulder. Instead of letting go, she tightened her arms, and her body relaxed against his. The embrace reached in and turned his innards upside down. He clenched his teeth against the rush of pleasant sensation. Reminded himself he had not come to her aid for her sake, but for the Templars’ purpose. If she had fallen to her death, the holy Order would lose much needed might.

  “That’s the second time you’ve rescued me,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

  Farran backed up like demons chased him. He set his fingers on her waist, pushing her down and away. In his hurry to free himself, his feet tangled with hers. He grabbed at the rail to steady his fall, but the momentum he put into his shove made her stumble. She toppled into him, upsetting his already unsteady balance. They fell to the ground in a heap.

  For a lon
g silent moment, Farran stared up at the sky. Unbelievable. She weighed no more than two sacks of grain, yet she toppled him as easily as if she wielded a club. His mouth quirked at the irony. And then he chuckled. For the second time in one day, a short burst of air constricted his lungs in a way they had not stretched in more years than he could count.

  Before he could fully savor the lightheartedness she provoked, she scrambled to her feet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Crimson colored her dainty cheeks, and her eyes widened to twice their normal size. “I’m a klutz. I fall over everything. My cat—” She clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her rush of words and swallowed hard. Behind her fingertips, she muttered, “I’m sorry.”

  His brimming laughter died in his throat, but he could not stifle the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he stood. He clamped her wrist in his right hand and started for the SUV. “’Twas a grand attempt at escape. Now we must attend to duty.”

  Noelle dug her heels in and pulled against his hold. “I’m not going to be your prisoner, Farran.”

  Her protest erased all traces of his good humor. He whirled on her, pinning her in place with a furious scowl. “Have I hurt you?”

  She backed up a step. “No.”

  Tightening his hold on her wrist, he pulled her back in front of him. “Have you been placed in chains? Are you secured to a wall? Have you been denied food, damsel?”

  With an ashen expression, she answered, “N-no.”

  “Then do not speak to me of being prisoner. You know naught of the meaning!” He spun around, and with a fierce tug, dragged her to the vehicle. He opened the door and roughly pushed her inside. Stepping back, he fixed her with a warning glare. “Do not attempt to disappear whilst I retrieve your things. Or I promise you, damsel, you shall come to understand the life of a prisoner.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Noelle itched to run. Every nerve ending in her system demanded she kick open the door and bolt down the street. But the idea of what might happen if Farran caught her rooted her in place. She stared at the house, watched his shadow ascend the stairs behind the front windows. A prisoner. While his definition and hers might vary, nevertheless, she’d lost her freedom. He’d stripped it away just as if he’d tied her up.