A Knight in Atlantis

by Diana Bold

  He strode to one of his trunks and pulled out the azure velvet gown with the white lawn chemise that had been in her pack. Atlantis’ seamstress had carefully crafted the garment for her based on the descriptions of the latest Surface fashions she'd provided after her last trip.

  “Will this do?” she asked as he handed her the bundle of clothing. She hoped it was suitable, since so far, she’d been completely underdressed for every occasion.

  “The fabric is finer than anything I have ever seen. I doubt the Queen has garments of such quality. But if we make this a quick visit and no one gets a close look at you…” He trailed off, reaching out to run his fingertips down a long, tangled strand of her hair. “Perhaps it would be best if you simply wore the robe again. Nothing about you makes any sense, Rhoswen. You’re bound to cause a stir, no matter what you wear.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, chagrined. “I did my best to make sure I’d fit in with your people.”

  “You are simply too beautiful. ‘Tis not your fault. And Hawkesmere has been long without a mistress. You will have to wear the gown tonight, I suppose, but for now I would like to keep you as inconspicuous as possible.”

  “I’ll wear whatever you think best,” she assured him in a meek tone that was totally out of character. His comment about her beauty had touched her, but had also made it very clear to her how completely out of her element she was. For all her spying on those who inhabited the Surface, there was much she still did not know.

  He stared at her for a moment longer, then removed the heavy robe and lowered it carefully over her shoulders. He tucked her hair behind her ears, then pulled up the cowl, effectively shielding her from prying eyes.

  As she followed Sebastian out of the tower and across the bailey back toward the dungeon, she remembered that first painful trek. Her feet felt much better today, but she still limped awkwardly, and every muscle in her body ached. She kept her head down, peering around the edges of the cowl, but no one seemed to pay them much attention.

  Sebastian led her up a set of steps where a warren of small sleeping chambers, none larger than her closet at home, bisected a long hallway. He paused before a door at the end of the hall where an unsmiling guard stepped aside to let them pass.

  “He looks terrible,” Sebastian warned. “Brace yourself.”

  Then he swung the door open and motioned for her to go inside. She took a deep breath and entered.

  Trevelan lay upon a clean pallet in the corner, covered with several blankets, his beautiful face beaten to a bloody pulp. A lovely, red-haired woman stood beside him, coaxing him to drink a tisane of some sort.

  “Hello, Miranda,” Sebastian murmured in greeting. “Do you mind if we speak to your patient alone for a moment?”

  Miranda glanced over at Sebastian, her green gaze sweeping his lean form with obvious appreciation. “Certainly. I am done for the moment. I will check on him again this evening.”

  A sudden stab of what could only be jealousy swept through Rhoswen, stunning her with its ferocity. She’d never thought to experience such a trite emotion but couldn’t deny that the thought of Sebastian in another woman’s arms bothered her.

  As Miranda left the room, she cast a curious glance at Rhoswen’s direction. Still annoyed, Rhoswen kept her face hidden beneath the cowl, unwilling to assuage her interest. She waited until the woman’s footsteps faded down the hall, then rushed to Trevelan’s side.

  “Oh, Trevelan,” she cried, kneeling beside his pallet. “Are you all right?”

  Trevelan opened his swollen eyes and peered up at her. “I’ve been better,” he rasped, forcing a wry smile. “But I’m alive.”

  Relieved by Trevelan’s tone, she motioned Sebastian forward. “If Sebastian wouldn’t have helped me, we’d both be dead.” She needed Trevelan to realize not all the Surface people were barbarians. She wanted him to acknowledge his debt to the man who’d risked so much for their sake.

  Instead, he made a pained, noncommittal sound and closed his eyes again. “I want to speak to you alone. Can you make him leave?”

  Sebastian met her embarrassed gaze with a grim shrug and stepped back into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  “How could you be so rude?” she asked Trevelan in a harsh whisper. “That man saved your life.”

  “How can you be so foolish?” Trevelan snapped in return. “I can’t believe you trust him. This is probably all a ruse, a trick to make me confess to the crimes they believe I’ve committed. Neither of us will leave here alive, Rhoswen. Can’t you see that? Please tell me you haven’t given yourself to him.”

  “Of course not.” Furious heat burned her cheeks. “I delved his mind. I trust him implicitly. He is a good man. You’d recognize it yourself if you could let go of your hatred and prejudice for even a moment.”

  “What did you tell him?” Trevelan demanded. “When I think of all I suffered in that dungeon to keep you safe…only to find you’d been telling him everything he wanted to know in return for his empty promises of help—”

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” she claimed, though guilt assaulted her. She mentally assured herself nothing she’d spoken to Sebastian about could be used against Atlantis.

  “He’ll betray us,” Trevelan said, his voice weary and disgusted. “It’s just a matter of time.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anger and disappointment streaked through her. “You’re tired and weak. You need to rest.”

  He stared at her with stony defiance, refusing to say anything more.

  “Get some sleep,” she reiterated, pushing to her feet. “He’s promised we can leave in a few days, and you need to regain your strength.”

  A strange expression flickered in his pale eyes, but he quickly banked it. “If he’s truly going to let us leave, then you must convince him to do it within the next day or two. We have to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t even walk.” Flushed and embarrassed by Trevelan’s boorish behavior, she slipped back into the hall without giving him a chance to reply.

  “I’m sorry,” she told Sebastian after she shut Trevelan’s door. “The way he treated you was unacceptable.”

  “Well, I cannot say that I blame him, given the circumstances.” Sebastian didn’t seem angry at Trevelan’s foul temper, and her respect for him grew yet another notch. As she followed him back the way they’d come, she pondered the twist of fate that had made her take Sebastian’s side over Trevelan’s.

  She hated to imagine what she'd do if she was forced to choose between the two of them. Somehow the lines that used to be so clear had gotten all muddied with unwanted emotion.

  Back in the tower, she felt safer. No one would bother them in Sebastian’s sanctuary.

  While in his mind, she’d gleaned that ever since he’d returned from war and taken up residence in Titania's Tower, his people had looked upon him with fear and suspicion. Resigned to their inability to accept him, he’d gone out of his way to feed their fear, using the knowledge he’d gleaned in the East to create a variety of simple tricks and illusions. They thought him a sorcerer, perhaps even a warlock, and he relished their silly misconceptions.

  Given what she knew about the society he lived in, his defiant flaunting of the rules disturbed her. In fact, she felt a sudden frisson of fear when she considered what sort of mischief he might cause after she left.

  As the door slid shut on its simple hidden mechanism, and they mounted the stairs toward the third floor, she turned and gave him a pensive frown. “I want you to promise me something.”

  They entered his chamber, and he knelt before the fireplace to stoke the fire. “I have already promised you far more than I should.” His warning tone alerted her that he had reached the limits of his patience.

  She took a deep breath. “I couldn’t understand much of what I saw while I was in your mind, but I did see how you provoke the villagers, trying to convince them you have supernatural powers.
I want you to promise me you’ll stop. In the years to come, I want to imagine you safe in your tower, working with your herbs and potions, not dying at the hands of an angry mob.”

  For a long moment, he continued to fuss with the flames, his expression hidden in the shadows. Then he sighed and sank back on his heels, meeting her gaze. “During the last few years, I have not had much to live for. Perhaps, deep down, I hoped they would eventually find me too dangerous.”

  She caught her breath. She’d glimpsed how deeply he’d suffered, yet she still couldn’t imagine ever feeling such a blatant disregard for her own life. The urge to comfort him was strong, but she didn’t know what she could say to make a difference.

  When she left, he’d still be alone.

  He’d done so much for her, saved her from torture, rape, perhaps even death. He’d even allowed her to keep most of Atlantis’ secrets. How could she ever pay him back?

  She came to a sudden risky, but exciting, decision. Soon she would be gone, back to her own world and her own life. But Sebastian would remain behind, locked in his self-imposed exile.

  All she had was a few days, but somehow, she must show him life was a beautiful thing and well worth living.

  “You promised me another soak in the pool, and I’d like to bathe before we go down to dinner,” she reminded him. “Would that still be possible?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, and the sexual tension raging between them left her dizzy and flushed. She’d never felt this way before — never known such heat was possible between two people. Her plan of seduction was not for purely unselfish reasons. She wanted this for herself, as well.

  She wanted to know what it was like to lose herself utterly in a man’s arms.

  Chapter Nine

  Rhoswen held Sebastian’s gaze until he broke eye contact. Did he understand what she truly wanted? Clearing his throat, he began to gather her supplies. “Of course, you can soak in the pool again.” He slung her pack over one shoulder then lit a torch in the fire. “Would you like me to carry you?”

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking down the stairs,” she assured him. “My feet feel much better, thanks to your salve.”

  Seeming a bit deflated by her independence, he allowed her to precede him down the long, curving staircase. He seemed to like taking care of her, like feeling needed after having been alone so long.

  When they reached the cavern far below the tower, he motioned toward the pool. “Take as long as you like. I will remain on the far side of the cave with my back turned until you are done.”

  “Thank you, Sebastian.” Disappointed by his willpower, she slid out of her nightclothes and undergarments as he strode away. Naked, she stepped into the water, submersing herself beneath the comforting, steamy depths.

  When she surfaced, she found Sebastian had remained true to his word. He stood on the far side of the cave, giving her his back, though visible tension tightened his shoulders.

  “You can join me.” The stubborn man would never get in the pool unless asked. “I don’t mind.”

  He cast a quick, pained glance over his shoulder, careful to keep his gaze locked with hers and not let it drop lower, where her breasts must be visible beneath the water. “I do not think that would be a good idea.”

  “I’m not afraid of this attraction between us,” she assured him. “And I want to see you, Sebastian. I want to see all of you.”

  Her words shocked him, she could tell, but he managed a muffled laugh. “I have never known such a brazen woman.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” she whispered, filled with sudden embarrassment. “But my people have very different views about sexuality than yours. Where I come from, it isn’t considered a sin to make love to someone you’re attracted to. It is a part of life; a necessary, wonderful need we are encouraged to explore.”

  He turned around, his expression filled with remorse. “I am not offended, Rhoswen. But you must know I am out of my depth here. I have been celibate for so long, I am not certain I even remember what to do.”

  “I’m sure it will come back to you.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I want you, Sebastian. Is that so hard to believe? And I always go after the things I want.”

  “Never think that I do not want you.” His voice was so soft she had to strain to hear it over the bubbling water. “I am trying to do the right thing, Rhoswen. You are my prisoner. I cannot take advantage of you.”

  “You wouldn’t be taking advantage.” His reaction to her invitation frustrated her. Didn’t he know how much courage it had taken for her to offer herself to him this way?

  A dozen emotions flitted across his handsome face. “I spent time as a prisoner myself. I know what it is like to be willing to do anything to secure your freedom. I am afraid you don’t really want to do… this. You are just afraid and… desperate.”

  “You’ve already agreed to help me,” she pointed out. “I’m not afraid. I’m not desperate. I just want you.”

  “Please, do not say that.” He closed his eyes, as though to shut out the sight of her. “I need you to be the one to walk away. I do not have the strength to keep fighting something I want more than I want my next breath.”

  “Then quit fighting.” She took a few steps toward him through the water, needing to touch him, needing to connect with him in some way.

  “If we did this, you would regret it.” The conviction in his voice startled her, because it left no doubt that he lived with his own regrets.

  What terrible things had been done to him during his own captivity? The possibilities chilled her to the bone.

  Oh, Sebastian.

  “I wouldn’t regret it,” she told him stubbornly, determined to convince him that he was more than worthy of a woman’s affections, no matter what had happened in his past. “I’d treasure the memory for the rest of my life.”

  “Bloody hell, you tempt me.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “But I will not do this. When you are finished, I will be upstairs.”

  “No, wait!” Though he’d turned down her offer, she didn’t want him to go. He seemed brittle, ready to shatter. “Stay. Come get in the pool and talk to me for awhile. Enjoy the warmth. I promise I’ll control myself.”

  He hesitated, but didn’t turn around. “I cannot, Rhoswen. Please do not ask me again.”

  * * * * *

  Sebastian vaulted up the tower stairs, thwarted desire raging within him. Walking away from Rhoswen’s proposal had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. She probably thought him mad, or worse, was hurt by his rejection.

  Once in his bedchamber, he flung himself down on his huge bed and covered his eyes with his forearm. It did not help. The sight of her, flushed with steam, her pale breasts cresting the surface of the pool, had become permanently branded upon his eyelids.

  With a harsh curse, he shoved his other hand down the front of his hose, gasping as his palm met hot, straining flesh. His cock was painfully hard, begging for release. All it would take was a few swift strokes. But the moment he tightened his fist, the past came rushing back and his desire fled in an icy rush.

  Bloody hell. What was wrong with him? He could not bear even his own touch. The same thing had happened when Rhoswen had pressed him to the bed, her weight, however slight, trapping him beneath her. Any hint of coercion or captivity sent him into an utter panic.

  She had been in his mind, but she could not have seen what had happened to him in the desert. If she had, she would never have offered herself so sweetly. No, she would turn away in utter disgust.

  The mere thought of her finding out made him nauseous, made him want to kill something. He could not bear for her to know the truth. If she even suspected the depths to which he had sunk in order to survive, she would never again look at him with trust or tenderness.

  Somehow, he had to continue to keep her at arm’s length. He could not let her any further into his heart or mind. At dinner tonight, he would talk to Miranda and get her opinion on
when it would be safe to move Trevelan. The moment it was possible, he wanted both Rhoswen and her companion gone.

  He squashed any internal protests with ruthless determination and rolled off the bed, striding to his trunk to find something suitable to wear for dinner. He discarded several choices, settling on a peacock blue tunic lined with silver thread. He had worn the garment at court and had nothing finer. Perhaps if he dressed in a conspicuous enough manner, he would draw some of the attention away from Rhoswen’s beautiful gown.

  Within moments, he had transformed himself into a gentleman, and though he wished he’d had a chance to bathe and shave in the springs, he took solace in the fact that he would still be far cleaner and sweet-smelling than the rest of Simon’s people. The stench of so many filthy bodies in close proximity was the main reason he preferred to take his meals alone.

  Rhoswen’s footsteps sounded on the stairs outside his bedchamber, and he did his best to compose himself, trying not to worry overmuch about what she must think of him for rejecting her. When she entered the room moments later, he caught his breath in sheer wonder.

  Though her beauty had always been evident, she had been bedraggled and battered since he had met her. Now, garbed in the emerald gown, with her pale blonde hair coiled atop her head, she looked every inch a queen.

  A bad feeling took root inside of him. Jealousy surged within him at the thought of subjecting her to the leering stares of Simon’s men. He feared he would be forced to defend her and knew his odd possessiveness would add fuel to the fire of those who thought her loveliness a sin. They would think him bewitched, and for the dozenth time he wondered if he was.

  “Do I look presentable?” She stayed in the doorway, unable to meet his gaze, her fey features flushed with color.

  “I have no words,” he told her, his voice hoarse with conflicting emotion.

  She dared a quick glance at him through her lashes, obviously trying to gauge his mood. Her eyes widened when she saw his formal manner of dress, though she seemed to think better of commenting. “Is it time for us to go?”