"I won't allow it," she whispered harshly. But how was she to prevent this when she already yearned for him?
Her gaze fell on his belt at her feet. The fool had left his dagger in its sheathe. Quick as a cat, she leaned down and grabbed it out, her hand curling around its awkward hilt. Two steps took her to the bed's side. She glared down at him.
He glanced from her face to the knife she held, then to her face again. There was nothing in his eyes but sadness. Her heart ached at his pain. She crushed her reaction. Slowly, she raised the dagger for the thrust that would finish him.
Gilliam watched the blade rise above him. He fisted his hands into the bedclothes, leaving his chest open to her attack. Nicola's arms would lift no higher. A quirk of worry sapped her strength. He was not going to fight for his life.
"I mean to kill you," she said hoarsely.
"I know," he said quietly. The defeat in his voice tore through her.
"You must fight me!" she cried.
"Why? You hate me. I do not wish to live with your hate." The flatness of his tone pierced her the way she meant his dagger to do to his heart.
"You must fight me to make me stop hating you." Nicola gasped in shock at what she'd said. This was all too confusing to be tolerated. She lowered her arms.
"Can I do that?" The hope in Gilliam's eyes made her heart's ache ease, but panic swiftly followed. She wanted to soothe his hurt and feel his arms around her once again. Life without him would be dull and empty.
"Nay, you cannot! I hate you!" She threw the dagger away from her as she turned and fled into a corner. She pressed her cheek against the hard, cold stone as tears filled her eyes. He owned her body and soul, and she loved him for it.
The ropes bearing the mattress creaked and groaned as Gilliam left the bed. A moment later he put his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. He touched his mouth to her shoulder. The warmth of his body flowed through her, mingling with the heat that his kiss awoke.
"I love you too, my sweet," he murmured.
"I do not love you," she lied through trembling lips. "I tell you I will not do it. It’s bad enough that you are a terrible jackanape, always goading me. Now, you want to leash me like one of your pets."
His laugh was soft and deep. "Would that were true. Perhaps then I would be able to train you to sit and stay as Roia does." He laid his cheek against her head. The silence lengthened between them. "You are wrong, you know. It’s you who holds my leads."
There was enough sadness in his voice to make her turn in his arms to face him. Pain lingered in his eyes. Needing to soothe him, Nicola lay a hand against his cheek. He gave a breath of a laugh then turned his face to kiss her palm. The caress sent a quiver shooting through her and she took back her hand.
"You have me on my knees, Colette. I cannot bear your hate. I need you to care for me the way you do for this place and those folk." He gestured toward the hall. The muted sounds of revelry floated into the room on the icy breeze. His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you cannot say you love me this day, promise that you will, sometime in the future."
Nicola stared at him then her eyes narrowed in mock disgust. "How dare you put the choice in my hands. You leave me with no option but to declare my love for you."
Gilliam's eyes came to life as he smiled. "God's truth, madam? I shall commit the maneuver to memory, then."
She made a face at him. "I can only pray that this love of mine does not turn me into a weak and foolish woman, all simpers and smiles."
Gilliam's smile widened. "I would hate that. Vow you will never change, Colette."
"Who told you, you could call me Colette?" she said with a scornful lift of her brows. "It’s a private name." He looked startled until she laughed, and added another barb, "Oh, great boar hunter."
He grabbed her to him in an embrace that set her ribs to complaining. "You are teasing me," he bellowed in pleasure.
A moment later, she found herself on the mattress, once more trapped beneath him. "Leave go, you great oaf before you hurt me."
He instantly moved to the side, lifting himself on an elbow to look down at her. There was an expression of deep regret in his face. "I have done enough of that for one day, I think," he said quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Nicola asked.
"You," Gilliam replied with a shrug of embarrassment. "I meant to be gentle in our joining, but you kept moving until I could not think."
"What is this? An excuse?" she demanded, fighting to control her laugh. "I would expect as much from Jos, but not you, big man."
He stared in her in surprise.
She grinned in triumph. "What do you know? I've tweaked you twice in less than a quarter hour. I want you to know I am deeply insulted. What do I look like, some weak-kneed woman to cry over a pinch?"
"A pinch?" he retorted, then pushed at her. "Move aside, I would see if you left a mark on the sheets."
Curious herself, she did as he bid. The linens bore no sign of her maidenhead's demise. Nicola stared in shock, then worry. Now he would think she had not come pure to his bed. She grabbed the bedclothes, tearing them back to the bed's foot. Nothing. When she looked at him it was in new panic. "I vow to you, I gave to you what I would give no other man."
Gilliam raked her with a long and scornful look. "Do you expect me to believe that?" he said in a harsh voice then he lifted his brows in amusement. "I know you did. Have a care, little girl. If you want to play at taunts and teases, you'd best be willing to take the blows."
"You!" Nicola shouted, and threw herself at him. He caught her in his arms, his mouth claiming hers. They fell back upon the mattress.
When she shivered it was not against the cold, it was with the way her skin slid across his. Where her breasts touched his chest there was a new and wonderful tingling. She could feel his heart beating, almost against her own. Her hands moved over his shoulders and down, the contours of Gilliam's chest smooth and hairless. Her palms were alive with the feel of him. He moaned and lifted his body to offer her more to touch. There was a quickening deep in her womb.
"Mother of God," she breathed. "I did not know touching a man would feel like this."
Gilliam looked at her, his eyes a clear blue and filled with pleading. "Not any man, just me. I vow I will kill you if you touch any other man." His threat lacked teeth, being broken by a gasp as her hands lowered past his waist.
"Aye, just you, only you," she vowed. "Only you want me. Only you look at me and make heat in me." She leaned forward to run her mouth along his collarbone, then kiss a line up his neck. He shivered, then turned his head to offer her more to touch and groaned when she did so.
Nicola smiled against his throat. To make so powerful a man shiver with a mere touch was a heady thing. The taste of him intoxicated her. Nicola lifted her mouth from beneath his ear and found his lips.
Her husband caught her to him, his kiss ablaze with his need for her. As before, her answer to his desire came roaring through her, and there was room in her for nothing else. She moved her leg slightly and felt proof of his readiness against her thigh. Nicola smiled suddenly. Tilda had always said that if you held a man by his cock, you owned him.
She reached down, curling her hand around Gilliam's shaft. He tore his mouth from hers to groan. She moved her hand, feeling skin soft as silk against her palm. He shifted beneath her, his thigh rising between her legs.
The touch of his leg against her woman's flesh sent a shiver up her spine. His hand enclosed her breast, his thumb toying with its peak as his mouth returned to hers. The quickening in her belly became a low throbbing. With it came an awesome pressure that drove her to move to ease it.
As she shifted on his thigh, pleasure as sharp as a dagger pierced her womb. Nicola cried softly in surprise then shifted again, her hand moving on his shaft as she did so. It was better this time. Gilliam echoed her cry, his own deep voice full of the same wonder she felt.
Knowing she pleased him made it even better. She moved her hand sl
owly to the base of his shaft, then up again. He arched beneath her and tangled his free hand into her hair, pulling her near to him. When he kissed the spot just behind her ear, her womb softened. The feeling was so intense, she released his shaft and sat up on her knees, his leg yet trapped between hers.
Gilliam freed her breast to sit upright as well. Her hands came to rest against his shoulders. The heat of him drew her forward until her nipples grazed his chest, sending waves of feeling washing through her.
Sitting as she did made her slightly taller than him. Nicola looked down into his face. Even in this low light, his hair gleamed like gold. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips full and soft. She owned him; his expression said so. And, he owned her. Nicola sighed, liking both.
She caught the gleam of his sudden smile before he touched his lips to her collarbone, then lay his mouth against her breast. Nicola struggled to breathe as his lips closed over her nipple, his teeth gently catching the tip of it. Her netherlips grew flushed and swollen at what he did.
"You are making me melt," she cried softly, her voice unsteady with the passion he woke in her. Nicola did not know which she wanted more, to push him away or to draw him close. His laughter rumbled through her.
"Good," he whispered against her sensitive skin, "I am already a puddle at your feet." Once again, his mouth closed over her breast, this time to suckle like a babe.
Nicola gasped in sheer delight. She combed her fingers into his hair, forcing his mouth to stay where it was when he would have drawn away. When he sucked again, she leaned down to kiss the place where his shoulder met his neck. As she had the last time, she drew her nails gently along his nape, up, then down.
He shuddered beneath her, his shaft moving against her leg. When he tore his mouth from her breast, it was to lay his brow against her collarbone. He was shivering. Nicola felt his panting breath against her nipple. Again, she drew her nails along his nape, and smiled when he cried out.
"Jesu," he managed, "stop that. You are destroying me."
When she did it once again, his hand came between her legs, his fingers seeking the place his shaft would soon fill. Even knowing what it would feel like did not stop her moan. Nicola leaned back on her arms, letting him touch her in this most private place. Feelings exploded in her. This was wanting, and she wanted him. It was her turn to tremble.
"Colette," he begged softly.
What he needed, so did she. She straightened, and rested her hands on his shoulders so she could straddle his thighs. Gilliam caught her around her waist, holding her above the part of him her womb now craved.
"I am on fire for you," he breathed, looking up at her. So he was, she could see it in the way color stained his cheeks. "But you must not let me hurt you."
Nicola looked down at him in disdain, then she laughed, almost insulted by his statement. "What am I, some sort of weakling? You cannot hurt me." She lowered herself onto his shaft, once again enjoying the fullness of holding him within her.
"Oh, Jesu, but you feel good," he sighed, easing down onto the mattress. Nicola lay atop him, and Gilliam drew the bedclothes over them. She turned her head, and touched her lips to his neck.
His hand rubbed her back, the movement soothing and not at all what she wanted. Nicola smiled, now knowing how to wring from him what she desired. She raised her hand to caress his nape, then touched her lips to his ear and freed a gentle breath. At the same time, she moved atop him.
He made a sound deep in his throat, his hands coming to grasp her hips. "You are impossible," he said, his voice filled with both laughter and desire.
"Do you not like what you feel?" She breathed her question into his ear and reveled in how he shivered in reaction.
"Very much," he managed in a hoarse voice.
"If that is true, why do you keep stopping me?"
He laughed and released his hold on her. When Nicola moved this time, she gasped at the pleasure that shot through her. She caught his mouth with hers and tested herself atop him. Each movement was joy, but the wanting for more only grew apace.
Suddenly, it was he who gasped. His arms came around her, and Nicola found herself lying beneath him. With that, he began to move within her, steady and slow. She arched beneath him, her fingers digging into his back. His mouth was again on hers, his kiss fiery in its urgency.
Wanting grew greater still. She cried out against his kiss, her hands coming to hold him at the hips to urge him to satisfy what ached in her. He tore his mouth from hers, breathing raggedly with his need. His motions grew faster. With each thrust pleasure roared through her, wave after wonderful wave. Her body demanded that she move. She met his next thrust with her own. As if from a distance, she heard him begging her to match his rhythm.
Nicola lifted beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Still, he spoke to her, his voice deep and soft, telling her how much she was pleasing him. Knowing she did so only increased her own enjoyment. There was more, with each thrust, there was more.
When she thought she could bear it no longer, he groaned, driving himself into her with all the passion he had for her. She swore she felt his seed entering her. Her hands left his hips to hold him tightly to her once more. The pressure in her eased as he filled her and her body sighed. From within her came a deep knowing. What she felt could be bettered with practice.
He lowered himself to lie atop her, gasping and panting. All her muscles softened in reaction as her body accepted his weight atop it. Nicola kissed his jaw and caught his mouth with hers.
His lips moved in a tender caress, and he tried to slide to the side to spare her his weight. When she would not let him move, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him. Nicola gave a small sigh of disappointment. "But, I like you atop me." She whispered her complaint against his lips.
Gilliam shuddered and groaned, his kiss deepening. The desperation in his caress startled her, for it had naught to do with heat or pleasure. She caught his face in her hands, then eased back to study him. There was fear, longing, and joy all tangled together in his eyes. No smile touched his mouth.
"Did I do wrong?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head, his eyes suddenly full. "Colette, my heart is aching. All I can think is that I have made a child in you, and you will die."
All the joy she had just experienced dimmed. Nicola bowed her head as Alice's death came rushing back. "You mean as Alice did," she said flatly. "At least she set a fine, healthy son in her husband's arms before she went. That pleased her so. 'Twas the afterbirth that did it, tearing her womb as it exited. She bled."
In the speaking of it, her grief over Alice separated itself from the symbolism she'd placed on the commoner's child. "Oh Gilliam, it was all my fault," she cried, then fell silent in surprise. She hadn't meant to tell him about how she had betrayed Ashby.
"It cannot be your fault that her womb tore," he replied, his voice soothing, but his tone confused.
The urge to spill her pain for him to hear became undeniable. "Nay, 'tis not that," Nicola said, staring at his chest to avoid meeting his gaze. "It’s Ashby's fall that plagues me. Ever since June, I have been trying to run away from what I did, even turning the birth of Alice's babe into a silly hope that I would not have to accept responsibility for it. It was my fault. Aye, my stepmother took your brother prisoner, but it was I who closed the gates against you, Gilliam. I thought if I could prove to Lord Rannulf how competent I was, he’d allow me to keep Ashby as my own. Because of me, the hall burned and the village was destroyed."
"You give yourself a greater role to play in that than is yours," Gilliam said softly. "I, my brother, your father, and his wife, also contributed to what happened here."
Nicola kept her gaze focused on his chest. " It’s kind of you to forgive me, but even your words cannot change what I did. By my actions have my beloved folk been killed, and those I should have protected been hurt. I am trying, but I cannot find a way to bear the weight of what I have done." Her eyes filled against the pain in her hear
t.
Gilliam eased far enough from her so he could catch her face in his palms. He tilted her face up until he could see her. "Ah, but you will," he said gently. "If the weight of your betrayal never leaves you, your shame becomes tolerable." There was just enough light left in the room to show her that his eyes were filled with sadness and understanding.
"How is it you know what I feel?" she breathed in astonishment.
His mouth tightened. "I have also betrayed one whose love I treasured. Oh Jesu." Gilliam closed his eyes. "Now I have said too much, and my stomach will not let me tell the tale." He freed her to lie upon his back, eyes yet tightly shut. Pain radiated from him.
Stunned, Nicola could only stare at him, unable to believe that this man who constantly smiled and jested could carry such an ache within him. All at once understanding flowed over her. Just as his placid nature had led her to believe he lacked intelligence, his ever-present smile hid what ate him.
When she said nothing, he opened his eyes, but still did not look at her. "I fear your newfound love for me will be killed should you hear my tale."
Nicola shook her head at that. "There is nothing that you could ever have done that would change what I feel for you. You are the only man in all this world who understands and accepts me, making you precious beyond anything else I own."
Gilliam turned his head toward her, his gaze filled with pleading as he struggled to believe her. "Not even adultery and incest with my brother's wife?" The words were barely audible. "She died, bearing my son."
Nicola swallowed, stunned anew. What he had done was terrible, indeed. In that instant she knew she held his life in her hands. She need only show disgust or horror, and he would be destroyed.
"Nay, not even that," she said and fell silent. To even press him for details or explanations would seem she demanded justification, and that she did not need. Her love required no more than she already knew.
His breath left him in a slow stream, his expression relaxing against his relief. Somehow, his relief was hers. Within her the burden of her own betrayal shifted until the weight no longer overwhelmed her.
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