Desires Promise

by Desire's Promise (NCP) (lit)

  Halden’s gaze raked her up and down, as if he calculated her words. Did he not understand she meant what she said? Several tense moments passed before a slow nod gave his consent. "Aye, Gardana. Whatever you wish."

  With a playful finger, Gardana stroked his cheek. "That is better. When all is said and done, I will have it all no matter what the price."

  * * * *

  Isabeau emptied the bucket outside the kitchen door with sort of a careless flourish. Why should she comply with his demands? She was not his wife or mistress. With any luck at all, she would be neither. Still, the attraction to him and all he had to offer tugged at her heartstrings. Her body cried out for his touch at every opportunity. Why could she not control herself? She was a pure, honest, God-fearing woman. Why could she not take the reins of her own body?

  Isabeau stood up straight and arched her back in order to stretch out the kinks in the muscles placed there by the arduous work. How much longer was she to stand this?

  * * * *

  Kendrick entered the kitchen and was greeted by a most wondrous sight. Isabeau stood at the threshold, arching her back in a stretch against the dying light of the day. Through the coarse gown, he could see the tiny buds of her nipples erect against the harsh fabric. Silently, his fingers moved against each other, as if the nubs hardened under the magic of his touch. Oh how sweet it would be to have her arching under him! Tonight will be the night. I will have her or else go mad!

  Kendrick planned on taking her out for a few days just to give her relief from her duties. Seduction was not far from his mind. Now seeing her like this, it was his foremost thought.

  * * * *

  "I thought I told you to be in my chamber at half past the hour. It is now three quarters past the hour since the sentry called out," growled the voice behind her.

  Isabeau whirled about to see Kendrick lounging against the doorjamb with his arms crossed across his black, velvet encased chest. Her eyes raked him up and down. His glossy black hair shone almost blue from the light of the torches in the dining hall. She noted his handsome, set face with his clamped mouth and fixed, determined eyes. Would her punishment surpass her imagination?

  His dark brow furrowed in slight fury while a muscle quivered angrily in his jaw. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

  She dropped the bucket unceremoniously on the floor where it landed with a thud. "Nothing, milord. My duties called me longer than I thought," she replied brusquely as she tried to brush past him, "so that is why I did not come."

  Steel hands gripped her upper arms before she could get past, drawing her with a rough hand to his hard chest. His strong finger tilted her head up, forcing her to look into the smoldering depths of his dark eyes. "How long is this going to continue on?" he murmured as his head bent to kiss the slender hollow of her neck. "How long are you going to deny the feelings I invoke in you?"

  The pounding of her heart grew louder in her head with each movement of his lips. "I … am … not … denying … anything," she gasped, "I…," Isabeau trailed off as his hands moved around her waist, pushing upward until his thumbs came in contact with her nipples. Moving in slow circles, he manipulated them through the coarse gown, intensifying their hardness and adding to her heightened arousal. Gasps of pleasure rumbled in her throat.

  His lips moved to her ear where his tongue teased the gentle curves. "You are, Isabeau," he whispered in a husky tone, "Give yourself to me fully. You belong to me and only me. I suspect you knew this from the moment our eyes met. That is why you jumped away from the young lad when you found me first watching you."

  Her knees went weak from his touch, her mind dissolving in waves of newfound ecstasy. In her weakened state, she could do nothing more than comply. "Aye," she murmured against the thick cords of his neck," you and no other."

  "Tonight is ours. I have the servants waiting for you in my chamber. They will bathe and ready you."

  Her hands wrapped themselves in the silky black tendrils. "Am I not to bathe you, milord?"

  His tender kisses burned ever harder on the hollow of her neck. "Nay, I will bathe myself this time. Now, ‘tis time to get ready." His lips released their position, slipping to her ready mouth. His sensuously experienced tongue played with hers in ways she never thought possible. Smoldering embers of desire blazed to a fierce roaring heat threatening to consume her completely. I must stop this, she thought as she delved into the deep pool of emotion. Unfortunately, her body was not about to listen.

  * * * *

  Scents of wild roses clung to her after the servants rubbed the soothing balm over her clean body, urging tingles of anticipation to ride through her veins. When that task was finished, they slipped a new gown over her perfumed skin. Rich ivory satin hugged every curve and heightened her already raw senses. The neckline plunged low then squared off, revealing the swell of her breasts. Gold thread embroidered the waist, hem and sleeves. She had never worn a gown this lovely.

  The servants brushed her hair until it shone bright gold, the length of it cascading down her back like a pale curtain. Gardana watched from the corner like a wary animal, her eyes feral and refusing to participate. Isabeau cared not. Perhaps tonight, the long ache of her body would be taken away and nothing would quell the anticipation.

  * * * *

  The moon rose to bathe the land in its pale, silvery light. Everything seemed different tonight, as if she saw it all for the first time. Leaves glittered with an unearthly gray pallor and rustled in coming darkness. Calls from night predators sounded all around them, echoing through the densest thickets. Isabeau snuggled a little deeper with each sound into Kendrick’s chest as he sat behind her on his horse as the animal lumbered into the night.

  "Is there something amiss, Isabeau?" he inquired in a gentle tone as his arm tightened around her waist.

  "No, milord. ‘Tis just I have never heard some of these sounds before. Will we be back before dawn?"

  Slight chuckles of mirth erupted from his throat before his lips descended on her neck. "Mayhap, my dear, but I think after a few hours, you will not want to return."

  Isabeau trembled slightly. Was she ready to give herself to him completely? Nay, I cannot for my heart is too great a price to pay. Her hands rubbed her upper arms out of instinct despite the warm night air. How can I do this? I am no wanton woman. If she were not, why was she going with his so willingly?

  Her lower lip trembled in the dark but she managed to find her voice. "Please halt, milord." They were only about an hour’s ride from the castle. Surely, he would stop at her request and return.

  "No," he said.

  "Why not?"

  The gigantic black horse halted in its tracks with a simple tug on the reins. His gloved hand caressed the side of her cheek, stoking the flame of ardor to an even higher altitude. Her chest started to heave with panicked motion. "Because I wish it, Isabeau. Time after time, you remain as distant from me as possible, teasing and tantalizing me to no end. I cannot live another day without tasting the passion you have to offer. Tell me, Isabeau, how old are you?"

  She stiffened slightly. "I do not see what that has to do with anything."

  "Tell me."

  "Eighteen seasons."

  "You are quite old enough to be a woman. Come, let us find a place for the night."

  Before she could say anything else, Kendrick’s booted heels dug into the horse’s flanks. The horse resumed its pace through the dewy, lush meadow. In the silence, she could hear the soft whir of the grass against the animal’s legs and it caused her fear, mingled with anticipation, to rise even higher. What would he do if she did not submit to his desire?

  * * * *

  The place he chose for the night was a beautiful one. She could see why he chose this place instead of staying at Henstrige. Majestic trees rose to kiss the sky as their leaves waved slightly on the breeze. The brisk rustle cut the thick, silent air. Rays of the moon filtered through the expanse of thicket like tiny fingers of silver. Underneath was a lush
carpet of tall, gray-green grass. Kendrick halted in the middle of the gorgeous meadow. He dismounted then held his large arms out for her. With a trembling heart, Isabeau took them and was set on her feet. Silently, he pulled a tent along with the posts from the horse and set about putting it up.

  Isabeau stepped away from him, choosing instead to wander over to the trees as she gazed at the moon. How simple life seemed before the war with England. If it were not for that, she would be at home with her father and planning her next tapestry. She sighed. Tragically it was not to be. Tonight would be the night her innocence was lost and there was nothing she could do about it. Oh how she wanted it to be on her own terms! Even if she never married, she more than likely would have found a lover later in life. The urge to find out what lovemaking was like grew too strong, especially after her first encounter with the Duke. It was the power of his kiss that opened the door. Still….

  "Isabeau, I am going to gather some wood for a fire. Stay here until I return," Kendrick ordered softly. She turned as he rose to his feet as his hands tested the strength of the posts holding the tent up.

  She trembled slightly but in the dark, he would never notice. "Aye, milord."

  With that, Kendrick tromped into the forest thicket with his sword extended outward to slash away any obtrusive brush.

  When she was completely alone, Isabeau sat down on a nearby rock, listening to the deep forest sounds that echoed all around her. She shivered. I hope Kendrick will not be gone long.

  Chapter 10

  Dark majestic trees rose high and swayed with the breeze, their silver tops whispering with the call of the night wind. Soft perfumes of dewy, moon-bathed grass arose around her like a cloud and hovered close. Isabeau remained on the rock near the dense emerald green thicket, her light ivory gown thin protection against the chill of the breeze. With each soft breath of air, she shivered then rubbed her silk clad arms. If only there was a fire to warm her! She shifted a little as the hard points of the stone dug into her backside, sending spears of pain up her spine. She had been sitting in one position too long. I wish Kendrick would return soon. Isabeau frowned. Why was she in such a hurry for him to come back?

  Faint rustles from her left drew her attention. Large stalks of tall, ocher hued shrubbery moved with a purposeful sway and caused her heart to leap into her throat.

  Isabeau cowered on the rock as the riffle of the leaves grew louder and closer. Her heart thumped with an unsteady rhythm. What was she to do? She cast a look to the horse, which stood tethered to a tree, munching grass. The animal seemed unaffected as it continued to eat the lush vegetation around the shrub.

  The tent, pitched near the base of an old tree gnarled with age, glimmered white in the pale light streaming down. Where was Kendrick’s sword? He took it with him to cut away any brush in his path. Panic rose. What was she to do now?

  Before her wide, frightened eyes, the brush parted. Out of the plethora of shrubs, Kendrick emerged with an armload of firewood. His hair, the deepest of black, glowed with an ethereal shine as the tendrils danced on the wind his stride created. The soft rustle of his leather tunic as his body twisted through the barrier rose through the quiet air. A gentle smile crept across his lips as he laid the lofty bundle down before her.

  "Fear not, I will have this fire roaring soon to warm you." The gentle timbre of his voice drifted over to her, encouraging shivers of excitement to course through her.

  She buried her hands in her pale lap in order to hide their trembling. "I am fine, milord."

  Kendrick sank to his dark, leather covered knees and cleared the area of debris. "I can tell you are cold, Isabeau," he remarked as he plucked the dew laden grass from a wide circle, throwing the unwanted particles away.

  Then he stopped, peering up at her. His eyes, rimmed by a line of long ebony lashes, contained a sensuous flame too strong to confuse it with another emotion. She marveled at the shape and how the corners creased when he smiled. He is truly most handsome, more than any man I have ever seen.

  "I am most truly fine, milord. You do not have to do this," she said, her voice quivering slightly. She tried to keep it at bay but it was no use. His sensual charm was too strong.

  "But I want to, my dear. There," Kendrick stated as he leaned back on his strong haunches," ‘tis clear."

  With his words hanging in the air, Kendrick set the splintered wood in a small triangle, stacking it so that it formed a point. Once it was to his satisfaction, he struck flint and rock, producing the necessary flame. Greedy flames licked through the dry wood with a vicious hunger, consuming everything in its path. Gentle crackles of the burning wood, mingled with the soft aroma of burning timbers, enveloped Isabeau as well as Kendrick into a comfortable lull.

  He leaned back to admire his handiwork, stretching his long legs and crossing them casually at the ankles. "Come over here, Isabeau," he said softly as he patted the empty space next to him.

  "No," she stated icily through determined lips. The closer she was to him, the easier it would be to lose control.

  His ebony brow rose as he cast her a hardened stare. "I will not ask twice, Isabeau. Come and sit beside me," he commanded.

  Isabeau shivered a little, just as much from the cold wind as the prospect of being so close to him. Part of her wanted to rebel against his order but the sensible side told her to cooperate, at least for now. They were out of the reach of the safety of Henstrige and would not have aid if he decided to beat or worse, kill her. You silly thing, her mind chastised. No one would have helped you at Henstrige. They are all under his command.

  With resignation, Isabeau rose and closed the distance between them. At his side, she lowered herself to the ground, staring at the growth of the flames to avoid eye contact.

  She stole sidelong glances at Kendrick and noticed his gaze never left her form. Why was he so determined to have her if she wanted no part of him?

  Kendrick pulled his leather-laden body forward, taking her hand into his own. "Do you know how beautiful you are, Isabeau?" he murmured as he kissed the tips of her fingers, suckling them lightly. A tremor of desire thrummed up from her hand, bursting through her body as though it was a raging fire. Her heart pounded as blood rushed to her temples where it beat at a merciless pace.

  Her lower lip trembled. "Please, milord, I am a chaste woman."

  "I do not question your piety, woman," he whispered in a slightly irritated but husky tone, "I am merely pointing out your beauty." His full lips moved down to her palm, kissing the soft skin.

  With effort, she tried to pull her hand away but his grip was too strong. "Please, milord. If you wish to keep me from going to hell, do not seduce me in this manner."

  His impatient fingers pulled up the silky sleeve of her pale gown in order to expose a little more of her wrist. Tender kisses emanated from his lips, burning the skin. "You are not going to hell, little one. You desire me as much as I desire you so there is no sin in that or in giving into the fire of passion."

  "No, milord, that is meant for...."

  His finger on his lips silenced her. "No more, speaking Isabeau. Tonight, you will begin the lessons I promised you so long ago." Before she could retort, Kendrick stood on his feet and pulled her to stand. Without effort, he scooped her up into his massive arms, encouraging her to lock her arms around his thick neck. Tendrils of Kendrick’s hair, as soft as the finest gossamer, wafted over her arm, inflaming her senses even more. Why am I allowing him to do this while my people may be starving and Seamus could be dead? What sort of a monarch am I?

  His gait was light as he moved past the thicket of trees on his right side. The tent made of the finest fabric, stood a little distance away. It was poised like a white beacon against the field of green underneath. Isabeau buried her face into Kendrick’s neck, inhaling the deep, heady masculine odor, a wild mixture of musk and leather. Her heart slammed at the inside of her chest as his scent penetrated her defenses. She must stop this before it went too far. How could she do it?

&
nbsp; * * * *

  Inside of the tent was dim, with only a few shadows cast from the silvery moon outside. Soft furs decorated the floor, adding to the warm air already inside. Kendrick entered without ceremony, setting her on her feet. Isabeau shivered as he released her. "What is wrong, my dear? Are you that afraid of me?" He asked. Genuine concern wrapped around his voice, battering against the wall of her defenses. She grew weaker each moment she was near him.

  Isabeau stepped away from him, turning her back and rubbing her silky arms in order to calm her jangled nerves. "No, milord. You do not frighten me in the least."

  He caught her upper arm and gently urged her around to face him. "Then what is it?" His fingers dandled on the underside her chin, trailing down her neck toward the slender hollow at the base.

  She shivered. Her thoughts would be her own. "N-nothing," she stammered.

  His grip tightened as his black eyes drank in her image, filled with a mixture of lust as well as anger. "There is something amiss. If you are worried that I might hurt you, do not fear. I will take the utmost care not to." His tanned finger tilted her face upwards as he bent his head and caressed her lips with a light kiss.

  Isabeau’s knees nearly buckled beneath her kirtle, forcing her to grip onto his strong arms for support. "No, milord. Let me be in peace," she murmured as she tried to push away from him.

  His arms drew her tight against his soft leather clad chest where the aroma of his masculine form assaulted her sense even more. "Tonight, we will quench the thirst that grows in both of us."

  Strong, tanned hands unfastened the lacings of her gown at the back, drawing them through the loops with speed. Before she could even stop him, the skin of her back was exposed to the cool air. He spread his hands over her shoulders, gently urging the top of her gown down, his fingers moving in a sensuous motion. Out of instinct, her arms covered her breasts.