In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4))

by Griffin, Kara

  “Of course not. I know my duty. But I want a promise from all of you …”

  “What’s that?” Kenneth asked.

  “If I die … I want ye to burn me and cast my ashes to the wind.”

  “Why in hell would we do that? Why would you ask that?” Sean glared at him. “You speak nonsense.”

  “I just have this feeling. When her father finds out about what I did … Aye, make sure you cast me to a hale northern wind so I can go home,” James said, and rose and entered the tent. Within seconds, he found his sword and hastened his steps. He didn’t wish to discuss the blunder he’d made or his conjecture. With an ireful stride, he went off to find solitude.

  James walked in no particular direction, and yet he found himself at the waterfall. The sound of the cascading water soothed him. He took his boots off and put his feet in the water. He didn’t hear someone approach and unsheathed his sword when someone touched his shoulder. When he saw who it was, he relaxed, and retracted his sword.

  Sean stood next to him and knelt down. “James, I understand why you’re disturbed.”

  “More than you know.”

  “If this lass …”

  “Emlyn.” Saying her name brought a small smile to James’ lips.

  Sean nodded. “If Emlyn means that much to you, then we’ll do what we can to assist. We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

  “I don’t know what she means to me. But the thought of taking her to Marshall sits foul in my mouth. We can’t do that to her. She’s asked me to help her, but my hands are tied. Haven’t we always upheld our oath to assist lassies when in need?” James rubbed the back of his neck, as tightness stiffened him. Their discussion led him to be even more agitated.

  His friend nodded. “Aye, we have. And I agree. If only the king didn’t command us to aid Iorwerth. Mayhap we should speak of this to Grey. He might know a way out of this.”

  James shook his head. “Nay. I don’t want to involve him. This is my problem to figure out and I will not endanger his position with the king. They’ve only somewhat reconciled and I won’t be the cause of their discord.”

  “I doubt their reconciliation will last long, for Grey still dislikes being involved in the issues the king bids us. If you really want the lass, James, we’ll help.”

  “I’ll consider it.” James scooped water and used his hands to soak his face. The coolness of the water felt good and but his eye stung a little. “We should return. Grey will surely be back soon.”

  “We could stall and give you and Emlyn time to hide away.”

  “Where would I take her? I know of no place where she would be safe. I will not endanger our clan. It is too dangerous and risky.”

  As he put on his boots, the key Emlyn left for him fell from his tunic. He picked it up and studied it. It was golden and embellished with a dragon at the top. The few jewels embedded in the gold gleamed.

  Find the door with the dragon.

  James wasn’t sure he wanted to see her again. Hell, who was he jesting with? He definitely wanted to be in her presence. Even if he might gaze upon her face, he’d be satisfied. Nay, at this point he wouldn’t be content with just a look. He wanted more, he wanted all of her, and wanted her freely without restriction. He wanted to remember being with her, knowing her touch and response.

  Should he go and find the door the key unlocked? What would he do if he found the door? Would she be there? Those questions would likely go unanswered, because he had duties to see to and had to put the lass from his thoughts. That was easier said than done.

  “What have you there?” Sean asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, and tucked the key back inside his tunic.

  James rose and followed Sean back to the encampment. For this night he might have to venture out and find this dragon door, even if only to appease his curiosity.

  When they arrived back at the camp, Grey awaited them. The guardsmen sat near the fire with him, and he finished eating his supper. Sean bid Angus to remove their bowls, for the lad was happy to do so and prideful that he’d been asked along on the trek.

  James went inside his tent and sat upon the bedding. He wasn’t wont to hear what Grey had to say, and knew that Llywelyn would agree to the betrothal. Then he remembered Emlyn saying her father gave his permission to thwart the betrothal. Why would he do that? As much as the lord liked their fracas, he had to keep his lands safe. Most lords would sacrifice a daughter to keep their lands, and he would be no different. Especially given the danger he’d put her in when he forced two combatants at her.

  “James? What are you doing sitting in here alone? I wanted to tell everyone what Llywelyn said. Everyone is awaiting you.” He watched his laird duck and enter the tent.

  “I just want to know when we are to leave.”

  “I’ll tell you that, when you tell me how you got that black eye. Tell me you got it while training, for I won’t believe you. And I vow if you say you got it from a lass, I might have to beat your arse.” Grey kept his stance, holding on to the pole in the center of the tent.

  James found a grin. “Very well. I won’t tell you then.”

  “Cosh, you got it from a lass. I knew it!” Grey approached, and he almost put his hands up to defend himself, but instead, his laird sat next to him. “James, there’s something I want to discuss with you … privately.”

  He sat back and waited for Grey to continue. “Aye, what is it?”

  “When our king bid us to come here, and after I met with Marshall … I, ah, well I was disturbed by our task. It does not agree with me to send the lass to her demise, for that’s what we’d be doing.”

  “What are you saying, Laird?” James leaned forward, using his knees as a rest for his elbows.

  “I just came from Llywelyn and I got the feeling he’d rather not agree to the betrothal and yet he did. His wife was in the hall and kept glaring at him. When he spoke about it, I got the sense that he was against it.”

  James perked up. “If he’s against it, then why’d he agree?”

  Grey hunched his shoulders. “I know not, but I would wager if the lass never showed up at Marshall’s keep, Llywelyn wouldn’t be too upset by it. I was hoping … Well, if you’re not involved with anyone that you would take the lass and hide her. Sean said there was someone at his keep that you were involved with.”

  “Nay, I’m not involved with anyone at his keep or anyone for that matter.” A frown wrinkled his brows and he firmed his jaw. Hell, he’d had a brief encounter with Emlyn, and he’d just lied to his laird. He was involved as much as he couldn’t get the lass from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He was more than involved, for he deemed he might even be besotted. If only Grey knew of what he asked. But this was exactly what James had hoped for. “Do you realize what you’re asking? If I do this, Laird, we’ll be causing a war.”

  Grey laughed. “Aye? I deem they’d war regardless of whether the lass went to Marshall. So will you do this for me? Will you take and hide her?”

  James bellowed in laughter. He couldn’t cease for his life took a turn toward bizarre. He’d just been given his fondest wish. Using his tunic, he wiped the laughter moisture from his eyes. Now he understood why Grey had given him odd looks when they’d first discussed the issue of the betrothal.

  His laird was interfering again, and had the habit of bringing his guardsmen into affray with a woman. He’d done it to Kenneth and Sean, and now it appeared it was his turn. James continued to laugh for he should have realized his laird’s intent.

  “What is so humorous? I want your compliance,” Grey said sternly, looking peeved about his reaction.

  “Where do you want me to take her?”

  “I’ve thought on it and the only place the lass will be safe for now would be Donal’s keep. When we went to meet with Marshall, Donal was pissed. He wasn’t pleased by the pact Marshall gave Iorwerth either. He remarked that he didn’t like the look Marshall had on his face when he spoke of the lass. I know he’ll support us
in this.”

  James shook his head. He couldn’t believe their discussion led to this. “There will be repercussions.”

  “I’ll deal with them when they come. If we can get Donal to side with us, he can gain our king’s accord that we did the right thing. We should leave this banter betwixt Iorwerth and Marshall.”

  James couldn’t agree more, but he said, “Our king wanted us to aid his comrade. He’ll not be pleased that we disobeyed his direct orders.”

  “One problem at a time, James. Do I have your accord?”

  “Aye, you do.”

  “I need your oath that no matter what happens you will not allow the lass be given to Marshall.”

  “You have it.”

  Grey folded his arms and scratched his back against the tent pole. “When I met with Llywelyn, he said his daughter hasn’t been home in two days. He has a search out for her. You wouldn’t know where she is, do you?”

  Mayhap her father should’ve been concerned about that when he’d seen her on the training field. Obviously her father was more intent in testing her arms than having her safely in the keep.

  James nodded. “I have an idea.”

  “Christ Almighty, James. Only you would fall in love with a hellion princess. Find her and make sure she agrees to leave with us. We’ll keep up the pretense that we’ll take her to Marshall. When we reach the border, you will veer off toward home and we’ll keep Marshall’s army busy. And, James, if you deem I don’t know what’s going on … I know what you’ve been up to.”

  James laughed. “I should’ve known you’d suspect something. But aye, I’ve met the lass and had a run in with her. I am sure she’ll agree to our plan. No lass would want to be betrothed to their clan’s enemy.”

  “You best hope she agrees. Go and find her. And for God’s sake, keep your face from her fist. Your eye is unsightly and ugly as hell.” Grey chuckled as he left the tent.

  James realized he might have need of the dragon key after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Where would he find a door with a dragon? James searched all morning, but found nothing to which she described. During the training rounds, he snuck away and was able to walk near the keep. He had to return when a group of Iorwerth men began following him. He didn’t want to draw their suspicion and pretended to be lost. They directed him back to the fields.

  James needed a diversion, and knew just how to provoke one. “Sean, I need you to keep all the soldiers occupied so I can slip away.”

  Sean scoffed. “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Before he could answer, Colm wedged himself between them and inserted himself in their conversation. “I know what we can do. Sean and I will take to swords. Kenneth can bet one of the Iorwerths who will win and gain everyone’s interest for the next round.”

  “It might work,” Sean said, and followed Colm on to the field. As soon as their swords rang with the first strike, several men ceased their activity and stood in groups watching.

  Before long, many were enthralled in the betting. James grinned for Sean and Colm put on a good show. They knew how to wield their swords in ways others did not. He found himself watching too and realized he needed to get away while everyone’s attention was focused on his comrades. James hastened away from the fields with a quick stride. He reached the water well near the keep and stopped to take drink.

  “You!”

  He turned and noticed one of the lassies who swam with Emlyn, that first night of their arrival, calling out to him.

  “Good day, milady.” He returned a large ladle to the bucket after he drank down a good helping of water.

  The lass appeared angry and stood spine-stiffened. James was about to make his escape, but stopped when he heard her speak.

  “You won’t help her will you?”

  He frowned in question, and looked around them. “Do you mean Emlyn?”

  “Aye, who else do I speak of? My name’s Branwyn, friend to Emlyn. You won’t help her, will you? You’ll allow her to be taken to that knave? He’ll kill her, just like he killed my brother.”

  The lass became distraught and James stepped backward, for he didn’t know how to console her. “I have decided to … help her. I’ve been searching for her all morn. When I find her, I’ll tell her so.”

  “She said you wouldn’t. I’m gladdened you changed your mind. She’s hiding until she can figure out a way to thwart Marshall.”

  “I know a way. Do you know where I can find her?”

  Branwyn pretended to fill the bucket when two soldiers passed by. They looked at them overlong and he was about to walk away to disengage their interest.

  The lass shouted at them. “What are ye looking at? Mayhap I should have my Cranog come and inquire?”

  The two soldiers hastened down the lane. As soon as they were far enough away, James returned to her side.

  “I know where she is. Don’t walk too close. Follow me,” she said, waving him onward. She walked around the keep near the wall surrounding the fortification. There, he saw a large hill embedded into a high rocky wall. The wall rose up from the ground, seemingly reaching the sky. In the center of the rocky formation stood a white door with a dragon etched in the large stone above. She pointed at the door and kept walking.

  He wanted to thank her for her help, but she was already too far away to hear him. James waited until she disappeared around the bend of the keep, before pulling the key from his tunic.

  It fit perfectly and he turned it. The door groaned when he opened it. The abode was dark within. He closed the door behind him, darkening the chamber further. His eyes couldn’t see much ahead of him. Before he called out Emlyn’s name, someone attacked him and forced him back onto a table. Their sword thrust against his neck. He couldn’t breathe. As his eyes adjusted to the obscurity, he saw her.

  “Emlyn.”

  She withdrew her sword and pulled back. “James.” His name was a sultry whisper on her lips. She dropped her sword and threw herself in his arms.

  James caught her and when she set her mouth on his, he was swarmed with lust. Their kiss became frantic, vehement, and full of desire. Holding her close, he reveled having her in his arms again. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, and continued kissing her as if he was ravenous.

  Her hands gripped his tunic, and he felt the air around him when she stripped it from his body. James kept his mouth fused with hers, surrendering to her siren’s tongue’s call. He had never been kissed so seductively or enthusiastically before and vowed to enjoy every second of it. Her hands moved frantically over his chest in unison with her lips.

  Emlyn caressed his bared chest, her fingers squeezing and pinching him. James leaned back against the table and pulled her to stand between his legs. He undid the ties of her tunic and pulled it over her head, breaking off their kiss.

  They both laughed, and then James took her breasts in his hands. He gazed at them and when she leaned in, he used his mouth to tease the hardened tips of her nipples. She moaned and set her hands on his shoulders as he continued to press his attention on her lovely mounds.

  “James, please … Can you not tell how much I want you? This is not the time to tease or go slow.”

  “Aye, it is, lovely. I want to touch you everywhere and I won’t be content until I do.” He caressed her body with his rough hands, roaming at his will. James tugged at the closure of her breeches when his hands reached her waist, until they fell to her ankles. She stepped out of the garment, and began seductively removing her shift. It was all too much and James growled, anxiously wanting her to rid it. He helped her shift it beneath her hips. When she stood before him, James knew he was astute, for she was a vixen, one that held him in complete rapture.

  “Let me look at you.”

  She stepped back and he his eyes took in the musculature of her arms and legs. Emlyn was as fit as a warrior, and he surmised it was due to the practice she participated in daily. Her hands and feet were dainty, her hips curvaceous, and her chest spe
ckled with the same freckles she had on her face. When he remembered to breathe, he took a breath.

  “I didn’t get a chance to enjoy this view the other night. You are beyond beautiful, Emlyn.”

  She took a step toward him again and ran her hands along his arms. When she reached the bulge of his biceps, she stopped and stared at him.

  “Not as strong and capable as you,” she said in a whisper.

  James unbelted his tartan and let his garment fall to join hers. He hopped on the table and pulled her on to his lap. He wanted nothing more than to be inside her—knowing nullity from their previous encounter.

  Emlyn sat astride him, with her hands on his shoulders for support. She leaned close and kissed his chin, his cheek, his nose, and finally his mouth. Her sweet lips brushed lightly over his and caused him to moan, for he wanted to taste her again.

  She settled her mouth against his, and James thought the coy gesture was utterly feminine. It was completely unexpected from her. In this she couldn’t help but be the sweet, willing lass he’d hoped she’d be.

  James leaned back on his elbows and watched as she took hold of his erection and guided it to her woman’s essence. He couldn’t hold back the groan of pleasure when he entered the wet, warmth of her body.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “Nay, to the contrary. I’m yours to command, lovely. Do with me what you will. What do you want me to do?”

  Emlyn raised her body and lowered herself onto him. The movement caused him to grit his teeth, for he was already pulsing with the need to ram inside her and expire. It took a will he didn’t know he possessed to remain still and allow her untried movements.

  “Hold my hips and help me move,” she commanded.

  James did as she bode and as she began gyrating madly against him, he closed his eyes and basked in the glory of their joining. He wished he’d remembered their last encounter, because this one damned near, pleasantly tortured him.

  Emlyn slowed, and tossed her head back. She appeared lost in passion, and he took over from there and jerked his hips to meet her. He continued to thrust, and they both rasped with the exertion of their hasty movements. James slowed and took hold of her waist. He flipped her onto her back and laughed when she gasped.