by The Bargain
But she would have him.
Yet would it be enough?
"My lord, would you like a glass of warm wine?" she asked, rolling off him.
Surprised by the request, since she had never brought wine into the chamber before, he nodded and watched as she slid from the bed and walked over to a table where a tray with two goblets sat.
He liked that she made no effort to cover herself. Her long legs were sheer perfection, her ass high and tight. The softly curved hips and slender waist.
Already his cock stirred.
She spilled some of the wine and smiled sheepishly. "I am so clumsy."
"It matters not, Aleysia," he replied, thinking how much he would like to lick the wine from her body. Mayhap she would not mind such an exercise after they rested awhile.
She returned to the bed, and handed him a goblet, her long blonde hair falling about her, a pink nipple visible behind the pale strands.
He reached up and stroked the small bud with his fingers and she sucked in a breath. "My lord, have you not had enough sport for one night?"
"I cannot help it. You are so beautiful. Already I want you again." She glanced at his growing erection and grinned before she sipped the wine.
He lifted the goblet to his lips and stopped, smelling the faintest hint of a strange, bitter scent. Disbelief rushed over him, along with a sick feeling. She had tainted the wine, but with what—poison?
She watched him intently—almost expectantly? He pretended to take a long swallow, and then set the goblet on the side table. She looked over at the goblet, instantly wary. "You did not drink very much, my lord. Do you not like the wine?"
"Would you like some?" he asked, reaching for the goblet.
"Nay," she said, her cheeks turning pink as he stared. "I have my own."
And he knew in that moment that she had done exactly what he had feared. She had seduced him into bed. Coaxed him to drink the poisoned wine, so she could escape with her brother. No wonder she had been so agreeable these past days, not asking to see Adelstan. He had thought it odd, but dismissed it, thinking mayhap she might be coming around now that she knew her brother's fate had been decided. Instead, it was clear she meant to leave him by way of killing him or drugging him.
How innocent she looked, her eyes wide, her smile soft and angelic. Had the entire night been an act then, he wondered, remembering her coyness during supper, or the way she had let her inhibitions go tonight while they made love. If it had been pretend, she had become quite an actress.
He forced a smile. "I have nearly drank the entire cup, my lady. I was thirsty after such sport."
She looked relieved then, and set her goblet aside as she snuggled up against him. "I am so tired," she said, yawning and stretching at his side, before settling down and closing her eyes. "Good night, my lord."
"Good night, Aleysia," he replied, glancing over to where her dress lay draped over a chair, and beside it her boots and stockings.
Aye, she was leaving. Clever, devious woman.
His father had been right.
He should never trust a woman.
CHAPTER 10
Aleysia's heart thudded hard against her breastbone. Renaud's breathing had been even for over an hour. After drinking the wine he had fallen right to sleep, and she had lain in his arms, too afraid to move for fear he would wake.
Ironically, she felt guilty. Tonight she had planned to seduce him, and instead he had seduced her, making love to her, bringing her such pleasure she had nearly wept with joy. Each climax had been stronger than the one before it, leaving her sated and content. Any woman would desire such a lover in her bed.
Sadly, she would never know such pleasure again. She stole a glance toward her gown, draped over the chair, her boots and cloak nearby. Everything was ready, and she must leave now if she hoped to rescue Adelstan from the tower and escape the castle before dawn. Hopefully, the healer's grandson had left earlier today with the message for Duncan.
If the young man made good time, then Duncan should be able to catch up with them soon enough, since Aleysia and Adelstan would be on foot. They could break for the border and never look back.
Ignoring the deep ache in her heart, she looked at the door. She had no time to lose. Slowly she eased away from Renaud's side, moving only inches at a time, waiting, praying he did not wake. The fire had died down and the room was so cold, her breath formed fog in the air. She glanced at Renaud in the warm bed she'd just left, wishing to be back there, safe and warm in his arms. If only things could have been different for them. They could have married, had children, and raised their family on the same land where she had grown up.
Pushing the thought aside, she ran her hands up and down her arms to warm herself. She'd best get used to the cold, for there would be many cold nights before they reached Duncan's village.
On the tips of her toes, she made her way across the chamber and dressed quickly, checking over her shoulder to make sure Renaud did not stir. If he woke and saw her dressing, he would know the truth and all her efforts would be for naught.
But he had drunk the wine and she trusted the healer. Nay, Renaud would sleep for hours. God willing, by the time he woke, she and Adelstan would be well on their way for the border.
Tying her cloak tight about her shoulders, she grabbed the canvas bag filled with enough provisions to get them through the days ahead. Aleysia spared one more glance toward the bed.
Renaud's chest lifted with each breath, his head turned toward the other side of the chamber.
She ignored the pain in her chest at leaving, confused at her feelings about this man who had turned her life upside down in such a short time. This man who had taken her virginity by way of a bargain. A bargain he had reneged on.
Stop it, Aleysia!
She should hate him and be rejoicing that finally she was escaping, never to return.
Focusing on her anger served her better. Without a backward glance, she pushed open the door, relieved to find no guards present. She quietly shut it behind her, and started up the stairwell. Her heart pounded so hard, it was a roar in her ears. Calming herself, she started up the dark stairwell, praying that when she got to the top she would find the guards sound asleep.
The flame of the torches fluttered as she passed by, and in the wavering light she imagined someone right behind her, which hurried her along. Hopefully, Adelstan's shackles had been removed since her last visit. If the healer had been called in, then chances were they were still off—unless Renaud had requested otherwise. She would know soon enough, for she had reached the tower, and heard the soft snores of the guards.
Relief rushed over her at the sight of the guards' limp forms slumped over. She went down on her haunches beside one of the armed men who lay sprawled near the door, the keys slightly under him, a dagger in hand. One false move and he could kill her.
Heart in her throat, Aleysia gently nudged the big man aside. He smacked his lips loudly, and for a heart-stopping moment she feared he would open his eyes and find her hunched down beside him. However, luck was on her side, for he rolled into the other guard, leaning just enough for her to get hold of the keys.
Aleysia stood and tried to fit one of the keys into the lock, but it was not a match. One of the guards muttered under his breath, and she fumbled with the heavy ring, nearly dropping it in her haste, but caught the ring just before it hit the floor.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she glanced at the guards, relieved to find them both still asleep. Trembling, she tried another key in the lock. She winced as it clicked loudly, and waited a moment before pushing on the heavy door.
Suddenly, a large hand covered her mouth and pulled her up against his hard body. His hand brushed hers away from the door and ripped the keys from her grasp.
Fear coursing through her body, Aleysia kicked her assailant hard. He grunted but did not release her. No matter how hard she tried to jerk or pull away, it was no use. His arms were like steel bands about her. She was abruptl
y lifted into the air and flung over a bare shoulder.
Her head jarred against his hard back with each step he took down the spiral staircase. Then a door to a chamber opened, and he kicked it closed once on the other side. A moment later she was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed.
Aleysia scrambled to her feet.
"Do not move an inch," Renaud said between gritted teeth, his chest rising and falling with his fury. He wore just his braies, nothing else. His eyes held no warmth whatsoever.
She had never seen anyone look as fierce as he did in that moment, and she feared for her safety. How could he be awake after drinking the draught? "Let me leave, Renaud."
"I will not!" He swore loud enough to wake the dead.
"Release us. Please have mercy, my lord."
"Have mercy?" He ran a trembling hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tight. "Your pretty words will not save you. I should have known better than to trust you."
Who was he to speak of trust? "I trusted you, and look what you did to me. You tell me you will keep Adelstan safe, and instead you take him to his death."
His eyes narrowed. "You tried to poison me."
"Poison?"
The side of his mouth lifted in a snarl. "I smelled the herbs, Aleysia. How do I know they were not deadly?"
"It was a sleeping draught, not poison. Certainly, you cannot believe that I would kill you?" she asked, offended he thought her capable of such a deed.
She saw the confusion in his eyes, but she also saw the mistrust. "Either way, you sought to escape."
"I told you before that I would do anything to save my brother— anything short of murder."
"Aye, you did warn me. But I did not believe you would go to such lengths. Tell me, is that why you pretend to enjoy my touch? Is that why you moan and sigh, playing the whore every time I take you to bed?"
Though she wanted to refute what he said, she did not. He didn't need to know the truth—that she burned for him, and wanted him all hours of the day and night. That she had not needed to act one bit, because he had brought her immense pleasure, the likes she may never experience again. It was her shame, for theirs was a future that could never be. Let him believe what he would, because nothing she could say or do would make up for it now.
She came to her feet and walked toward him. He put up a hand. "Do not come near me now, Aleysia."
She ignored his demand, her gaze shifting over him, his broad chest, the corded muscles of his abdomen, the huge bulge at the base of his thighs that the braies could not hide.
Arousal flooded throughout her body, making her nipples hard and her woman's flesh damp. Even his scent excited her, and now as his gray eyes stared into hers, so untrusting, she yearned to have him.
She went up on her toes and kissed him.
He was unresponsive, so repulsed, that he even went so far as to step away. "Do not touch me, Aleysia."
She removed her gown, letting it slide to her feet. His jaw clenched and he looked away.
She took the step that separated them, and wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed flush against him. Every muscle in his body tightened, his hands still at his sides.
She kissed his neck, and felt the hair on his body stand on end. Her tongue flicked the lobe of his ear, sliding inside, then along the ridge.
His cock jerked against her stomach and she hid a smile. She caressed him through the material of his braies, his hard length growing longer, thicker with every second. He could say he did not want her, but his body betrayed him.
With a growl he pushed her back on the bed, flipped her over, and pressed his cock against her opening. Her heart pounded loud in her ears as he slid into her slowly, filling her completely, stretching her. She gasped at his size, at his fierce strokes, pushing her into the mattress with each thrust. Nothing at all gentle, but she found it exciting, her hands clenching into the bedding at her sides with each hard stroke.
She lifted her buttocks higher, shocked how full she was in this position. So deep, so satisfying.
Renaud's balls tightened, his seed ready to spew. A part of him wanted to punish her—this woman who had betrayed him so. Bring her to the brink of climax and then withdraw, leave her wanting and aching.
He would never trust her again.
When her breathing increased, he knew she was close to climax. Trembling, he pulled out and she arched her back, trying to follow him.
Her scent permeated his nostrils, the musky fragrance making his cock that much harder. He brushed the head of his rock-hard cock along her wet, swollen folds.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her green eyes dark with passion and frustration. Good, he wanted her hurting. He cupped her breasts, weighing them in his hands, playing with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and thumbs, pulling, pinching. "Renaud," she whispered, the word a plea. "I need you."
She arched her back while a deep-throated moan escaped her full lips.
His cock rested against the cleft of her ass, probing against her hot, wet slit. "What do you want, Aleysia?"
"I want you to take me."
"Take you where?"
"You know."
He could hear the frustration in her voice, the desperate need. Releasing one breast, he brushed his fingers down her stomach, through the dewy curls of her sex. Two fingers slid into her heat, and she sighed, moving her hips against him.
He toyed with her button and she cried out, moaning, her inner walls contracting around his fingers.
"Please," she said, and he could wait no longer. He put them both out of their misery by sliding his cock into her slowly, his cock head brushing against her womb.
It only took a handful of strokes and he came, flooding her passage with his thick cream.
They stayed connected for a second, her slender back rising and falling as she fought to gain her breath.
The pleasure he had known earlier when they had first made love was no longer there. Instead, the reality of what she had done, and what she would do in the future, had him up and out of bed. He pulled up his braies and walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" she asked, now sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair shielding her breasts. She looked like an angel.
So innocent.
So beautiful.
So devious.
"I am going to check on my prisoner, but I shall return."
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut a moment later. He could see her disappointment. Did she think that a quick tumble would change anything?
"My father was right. A man should never trust a woman. I will never again trust you."
He tied her to the bed.
Aleysia could not believe Renaud had gone to such lengths to make sure she did not escape, but he did. He had left the chamber for only a few moments to check on Adelstan, and when he returned, he'd tied her up—her arms and legs bound to each corner of the bed by strips of silk. She had tried without success to loosen the knots, but it seemed her efforts had the opposite effect and drew the material ever tighter.
Thank God she had put on an under tunic before he'd returned. Being tied up naked would have been even more humiliating.
"Surely you do not intend to leave me like this?" she asked Renaud, who was busy testing the binds.
Silence met her question as he moved to the end of the bed and tried the bind there.
"Why do you pretend not to hear me?"
"I choose not to hear any more of your lies."
"Do you intend to leave me like this?"
He shrugged. "I have not decided yet, but for now, this should hold."
"For how long?"
"For as long as I desire."
"I will scream."
"And I will shove a rag into your mouth." He crossed the room, opened a chest and rummaged through it. "Ah, this will do." He pulled a beautifully embroidered kerchief from the chest and proceeded to roll it into a ball.
God's breath, he was actually going to do it! "I w
ill not scream. Do not stuff that in my mouth, Renaud. We will never return to Braemere. I swear it!"
"What am I to do with you?" he asked, almost to himself, as he tossed the kerchief aside and planted hands on his narrow hips. His gaze traveled from hers, slowly down her body and up again. Her nipples tightened under his regard, sending an ache straight to her swollen lower lips. Even her core tightened in anticipation of his long cock stretching her.
How fine he was, his body in profile, half his face cast in shadow, his hair still mussed from their lovemaking. The man was sex personified. The hair on her arms stood on end, remembering the feel of his hard length within her. How strong, powerful, and desirable he was.
His gaze found hers. How tortured he looked, this man who could bring grown men to their knees. A man whose name caused an entire Saxon army to flee for safety.
A man, who, for whatever reason, desired her. "Release me, Renaud."
The sides of his mouth lifted in a wolfish smile. "So you can betray me again?"
"I will not betray you."
"Will you not?" He laughed without mirth. "You would as soon I was dead than sleep with me."
"Nay. That it is not true."
"How do I know that, Aleysia? You lie so prettily. You give pleasure, then drug me within the same hour... only to use your body to make me lessen your punishment."
"I will not do so again. I swear it, Renaud. If you let me go, I shall do whatever you say."
His gaze shifted over her. "Whatever I say?"
The tone of his voice was silky soft yet dangerous.
"Aye," she replied.
He stepped toward the bed, his fingers brushing along the inside of her bare ankle, up toward her knee, bringing her gown up as well.
She swallowed hard and licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry. Her traitorous body thrilled at his touch.
"I could do whatever I wished to do," he said, his fingers climbing higher, along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, dangerously close to the folds that grew wetter by the second. "What do you think of that, Aleysia?"