Brianna was grateful when after her meeting with Kaden, Gillis led her to a candle-lit chamber down the hallway from Bella's sickroom. Exhaustion had suddenly made her weak and she needed sleep.
"Shall I send someone with food, milady?" Gillis asked from the doorway.
Brianna was too tired to correct his assumption she was a lady. "Nay," she replied with a wistful look at the large, canopied bed in the center of the chamber. "I require only sleep."
With a bow of his head he shut the door, leaving her to silence. She walked to the bed made from a foreign dark wood. It was so dark it appeared almost black. She reached out and ran her fingers over the carved edges. The workmanship was exquisite, featuring the trailing leaves of ivy branching out from a heart, with a crown rising above it. She'd never seen anything like it. From the canopy, a rich green cloth hung that was embroidered with darker green ivy, flowers, and the same red heart. She sat on the edge of the bed and searched the chamber. Hanging from a hook on the front of an overly large armoire was her finest green gown and a fresh chemise. Someone had unpacked her travel sack while they'd been attending Bella.
Brianna looked around the chamber at the fire that had been lit in the hearth. A bucket of water, a sheet of linen and shavings of soap waited nearby. She leaned back against the thick bedding, staring up into the canopy overhead. The soft scents of rosemary and cloves tickled her senses. The scents of a well cared for home.
But who cared for this castle? Simon's steward and his staff, or was there someone else? Brianna suddenly realized how little she knew about Simon on a personal level. She knew his likes and dislikes, she knew he dropped his left shoulder as he tired during a battle, and she knew how stubborn he could be at times, but outside of the things she'd learned about him in the Templars, she knew nothing at all. And suddenly, that fact bothered her more than it should.
She lay there on the bed, staring into nothingness, too exhausted to move, but her mind whirled with thoughts of Simon. When he'd kissed her she could sense both his hesitation and his passion. She understood that about him at least. He was a monk. She was a warrior. Passion had no place in either of their lives, and yet…
Brianna forced herself off the bed. She had best keep her mind from such thoughts. With renewed strength, she unfastened her belt and sword and laid them on the bed. She withdrew her dagger from her boot and placed it beneath the pillow, then smoothed the fabric back into place. She had no doubts she would be safe in Lee Castle, but old habits died hard. She would sleep better knowing her dagger was within reach.
Loosening the laces of her dirty gown, she pushed it over her shoulders, allowing it to slide down her body to the floor. Her chemise followed. She undid her boots, removed her stockings, then left them at the foot of the bed before she folded her discarded clothing and placed them over the back of a chair by the hearth.
When she was done, she knelt before the bucket of water. Cupping her hands she drew out lukewarm water to rinse her face. Freed from the travel dirt that had coated her face, she longed to free the rest of her body from the same. She dipped the cloth in the water and washed. The soap carried the scent of heather, and the fragrance, combined with the sensation of being clean, brought a sigh from her lips.
Reaching up, she loosened the ribbon holding her hair back and let if fall freely around her shoulders. She ducked her hair into the bucket before lathering it with the remainders of soap, then rinsed the long strands. She squeezed the water from her hair back into the bucket, and tossed her hair back to fall down her back, feeling the remnants of water slide down her flesh. She reached for the soft sheet of linen beside the bucket just as the door creaked open and the soft rap of boot heels sounded on the floorboards.
She clutched the linen against herself with a gasp.
Simon froze in the doorway. He was wearing only breeches that clung to his muscular thighs. Droplets of water rolled down his chest from the damp tendrils of hair brushing his neck. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded.
"Gillis brought me here."
One hand rested on the door latch, the other hung at his side. His posture was not rigid, in fact he seemed almost relaxed, yet he radiated a tension that reached out and touched her with its barely leashed power. "To my chamber?"
"Your chamber? I'm certain it was a mistake."
"It was no mistake," he said haltingly.
She moistened her lips nervously with her tongue, trying to think of what to say that would rid the atmosphere between them of that disquieting emotional charge.
"Don't do that!"
Her gaze flew to his face. "I beg your pardon?"
He drew a harsh breath, his hand clenched the door latch and his other hand balled into a fist. "Never mind." He watched her with an intentness that made her heart pound and her mouth grow dry. He came into the room and stopped beside the chair. His fingers gripped the wooden backing so tightly his knuckles turned white.
She pulled the linen sheet more tightly around herself. "I did not mean to intrude. I'll get dressed and leave."
"Stay here if you wish."
"But this is your room."
"I shall find somewhere else to sleep this night."
She didn't know what to say as he headed for the doorway. She hurried to the armoire and with lightning speed slipped her chemise over her head. She let the linen fall to the floor. "Simon?"
He paused and turned to look at her. His gaze moved from her feet upward. Raw hunger burned in his eyes.
A shiver tingled through her as she met his gaze. What did he want from her? He was in need of something…She tried to tear her gaze from his and failed. Instead she took a step toward him but paused as his quick intake of breath filled the suddenly silent room.
His pulse beat wildly at his temple. "If you know what is good for you, you'll stay where you are, Brianna." His words were soft, yet conveyed the tone he used when ordering her about.
"When have I ever been good at taking orders, especially from you?"
He closed his eyes. "I am tired, pushed to my limits, and slightly drunk."
She took two more steps closer and could smell the honeyed sweetness of ale, sandalwood, and musk. The seductive mix lured her closer until she stood less than an arm's length away. "If you wish to sleep I could get you some—"
Simon snapped his eyes open as the scent of heather enveloped his sense. He knew he should take a step back, hasten for the door, put aside the memory of Brianna standing by the armoire in the sheerness of her chemise. The fabric did nothing to conceal her from him. Instead, the fabric clung to her full breasts, delineating her nipples.
He was hardening, almost to the point of pain, just looking at the seductive image she portrayed. He clenched his jaw, fighting the overwhelming desire, and lost as his hand drifted up to slip beneath her wet hair. His fingers coiled in the silken curls at her nape and he gently urged her forward. Brianna lifted her head and he couldn't stop himself, he captured her lips. She softened in his arms and she filled his senses completely. Her skin was like velvet as he brushed his hand over her back. Her wet hair, silky and smooth and cool to his touch, did nothing to cool his need to touch her, to taste her, and hold her near.
His emotions warred inside him as he tasted her sweet innocence, wrapped himself in her touch. It had been far too long since he'd last been with a woman. Far too long since he'd been unsettled by anything.
And Brianna unsettled him in every way. She'd bewitched him from the moment they'd first met. He'd been assailed by unfamiliar emotions and feelings, half of which he could neither name nor identify. She filled him with more than simple desire or lust. She did something to him he couldn't comprehend. Part of him wanted to hold her, to kiss her, and the other part wanted to run as far and as fast away from her as he could.
He broke the kiss and stared down into her face. Her gentle green eyes searched his, but it was the concern there that touched him deep in his heart. Simon reached out to lay his hand against the flush of her cheek.
The softness of her skin never failed to amaze or warm him. No matter how much he might deny it, she was a part of him in a way no one had ever been before. No matter their conflicts, Brianna was a deep and integral part of who he was.
Then let her go. But he could not find the strength. He couldn't turn away from what had started between them years ago. She watched him so intently that it made his throat tight. There was so much emotion in those green eyes of hers: the same desire that coursed through him reflected there.
As though reading his thoughts, she lifted her face to his and laid a soft kiss upon his lips. He drew her to him and with a groan raided her mouth. He tasted her thoroughly, leaving no doubt that he wanted more.
Against his lips she said, "Is this wise?"
"Nay." The word ripped from him as he smoothed her chemise over her shoulder.
"The two of us have never been wise, only passionate." Her fingers fumbled for the laces on his breeches.
Heady with desire, he pushed her chemise over her arms, past her waist until it pooled at her feet and she stood naked before him. He brushed his fingers gently over her breasts, then came back to engulf the tender fullness to find her nipples peaked and straining with a need that etched itself plainly on her skin. When he brushed his thumb across her nipple, she gasped her pleasure.
Simon bent his head and his mouth hovered over one breast while his hand cupped the other. Brianna bit back a cry as she arched her back, pressing herself more fully into his sensual caress. His teeth bit gently on the nipple he'd brought to full arousal.
She groaned and her hands coiled in his hair, urging him closer. His limbs were trembling and he knew they could not hold back the storm that surged through them both. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her to the bed and set her gently in the center. He pulled the bed curtains closed around them, creating a private chamber that was only theirs before he followed her down.
In the golden light seeping through the bedcurtains he looked down at the woman in his bed. Her red hair spilled across the pillow with the lure of a seductress. His gaze moved over her body, her rounded curves, her smooth flesh free of the battle scars that marred his own back and sides. He prayed he could keep her that way despite the coming conflicts. She need not suffer the way other warriors did.
As though sensing his hesitation, Brianna inched her fingers up his back, holding him to her. "Don't think, Simon. For once in your life, just feel what's inside you and give yourself over to it."
Her words were the salve he needed and he knew he had to be a part of her. Need threatened to overwhelm him with its fiery intensity as he tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth once more. No other woman had ever held this kind of power over him. Ever.
Her lips moved along his jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone. Her lips left fire against his flesh as they trailed along his chest and down across his abdomen. "I want to be one with you."
He gazed into her eyes and could see no fear, no regret, only desire. Fire seared through him, and the muscles of his stomach clenched. He could have her. She wanted him. This was right, the two of them together. Here and now, as they both lived for the moment.
Her hands were trembling, Brianna realized.
She had known this moment would come since she'd dumped hot stew in Simon lap when he'd erupted back into her life. That's how it had always been between them. They were like fire and ice. But there was no ice in his eyes right now. Nay, his expression had become blindly sensual and his eyes filled with silken fire, and she wanted to be devoured by the heat.
His hands moved over her breasts, her abdomen, and lower to tease the soft curls at the apex of her womanhood. Indescribable sensations shot through her. His fingers slid lower, deeper, until two fingers gently entered her core and began a rhythmic stroking. She cried out as the hot throbbing inside her built almost to the point of pain, yet it wasn't. Only an odd emptiness remained as he pulled his fingers away to shift over her. He cupped her buttocks and lifted her gently. "Wrap your legs around me." His tone was guttural.
"Why—"
He plunged inside.
She gave a low cry and clutched him with her thighs and hands as his big palms held her, sealed her to him. She felt stretched at first, then the tension eased, to be replaced with only a desperate hunger.
He slid out and back into her with slow, deliberate thrusts that grew harder, deeper, as flesh met flesh. She tried to choke back the unbidden cries of pleasure each measured thrust produced, but it was impossible. Instead of fighting Simon as she always did, she joined him. Arched up again and again, meeting each plunge of his hips with an eagerness that took her breath away.
A groan lifted him up on his arms. She gazed at Simon, as raw and unfettered as he had ever been in her presence before. She knew in that moment she had never seen anything so beautiful as the gleaming, sculpted perfection of his body. Her gaze lowered to where her hands grasped his hips, how she coaxed him closer and closer with each bold thrust.
The sight of him, the feel of him, even the musky scent of their joining sent a flood of pleasure through her. She cried out as she neared the edge of some incredible precipice. She twined her legs more tightly around him, fusing their bodies together as she rushed headlong over the brink of erupting passion.
His cry of release joined hers, mixed, and melded in the hazy golden darkness as he gave to her again and again until the two of them were shaking with the force of the ecstasy that rippled through each nerve, vessel, and fiber of their being. He shifted beside her, and they lay there panting as incredible spasms continued to wrack her body. The intense need from moments before was gone, replaced by a warm and soothing sense of peace. Her arms tightened around his shoulders.
His breath was as labored as her own. He lifted his head and looked down at her. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead and she reached up to smooth it back. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
"But it did." And she liked it very much. She would not mind sparring with Simon at all if every argument could end this way. Yet she knew that was impossible. As soon as they left the peacefulness of Lee Castle, they would be in the presence of others, always, as they searched for the meaning behind her vivid dreams.
"This was a stolen moment, wasn't it?" she asked as her breathing settled into a more normal cadence.
He nodded and bent to kiss her lips once more before he turned away and grasped the bedlinens, tucking them around her. "We must follow where your visions lead."
"About that." She lifted up on her elbow to look at him. "I've been thinking."
He chuckled. "You've been thinking during all this? Perhaps I need to see if I can distract you more? I suddenly have the urge to see if I cannot wipe all thought from that active brain of yours." He leaned down and ran his tongue over her nipple.
Heat stung her cheeks as her body responded immediately. She felt herself readying, warming once more at the very thought of him hard and hot within her. She inched back and clamped her hands into fists so she wouldn't be tempted to touch him. "Let me say this first."
He smiled. "You like the idea then?" He reached for her and pulled her against him.
"Simon!"
"Talk quickly." He turned onto his back and lifted her on top of him, sliding inside her. His hips moved upward and she gasped at the fullness and the pleasure.
His face was flushed, his eyes glazing with an expression of primitive pleasure.
She couldn't talk, she couldn't think as he thrust deep, quickening the rhythm. This joining was incredible, basic, elemental. In only moments, wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
An instant later she could feel Simon spasm again and again within her, shuddering helplessly as he poured his seed into her body.
She collapsed on top of him. His hips still moved yearningly, as if he couldn't stop even though he had reached his satisfaction again. A moment later he lay still, breathing heavily, his hot flesh nestled against her own.
Sweet heavens, the p
assion between them was nothing she'd ever imagined and better than her innocent hopes. They loved as hard as they fought. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
"You're thinking again," he said, his voice still uneven. His breathing gradually steadied and slowed.
She pulled back to look at him. "We need to go after de la Roche and the Grail first. The inn I saw in my vision is farther away than the isle, but if we attack the Frenchman there, we can accomplish many things. The Grail might be used to release your sister from the grips of this poison, and we might put an end to de la Roche's terror before he can torture that poor Templar any more and…" She couldn't say the rest. The image of Simon losing his head was still too fresh in her mind.
She rolled off of him and sat up. "I will never let that happen to you. I lost my brothers because of one of my visions. I refuse to allow that to happen again." Emotion clogged her throat.
Simon sat up, facing her. "Brianna, your dreams did not bring about their deaths in any way."
She shook her head. "I saw what would be. I could have stopped it."
His features lost their softness. "You were not to blame. I ordered you away."
"I should have ignored you," she whispered.
"I did not give you the chance. I wasn't about to let you die alongside your brothers."
She nodded. "It took me a long time to forgive you for that. But this time the situation is different. It's one mad man against us, not thousands."
He reached out to gather into his arms until she melted against his bare chest. "The reason I involved you and your dreams in this madness is so that we are forewarned. Because of you, we know how and from whom de la Roche received his information about the Templars. We know where we might be able to intercept the man, and if it comes to a battle to the death, I will be prepared."
She pulled back to look into his face. "We will be prepared. I will be beside you. You promised me." He wouldn't go back on his word when the moment arrived, would he?
"That I did." His quiet voice had a steely undercurrent. "I don't want to endanger—"
A Knight to Desire Page 11