“Another reason for me to free you.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you afraid of them?”
“Not afraid,” he insisted. “Just hesitant to meet them.”
Sage’s amusement faded, and she stared at him in anguish. “You promised to teach me to read.”
There was agony and desperation in her words. But he could not give in. “That was before I knew you couldn’t decode.” He nodded and turned toward the horse, placing the book in one of the saddlebags.
Sage seized his arm. “Please,” she whispered. “I can decode that book, even without knowing how to read. I can do it. I know I can.”
Marcus’s heart tugged. “If I had more time, perhaps. But this is not a game. Men are willing to kill for it.” He flung the saddlebag over his shoulder, and headed for the horse.
“I’ve decoded another word.”
Marcus missed a step, stopping. His interest was piqued. Without being able to read, she had decoded another word. Could he be wrong? Maybe she had the skill. If the book were decoded, Guillume might reward him with more coin, more coin he could give to Emma and Rose. He turned to her. “What word?”
She lifted her chin but remained silent.
Marcus swore softly.
“You want to know what it says as much as I do,” Sage said softly. “You have nothing to lose by teaching me to read. I won’t try to run away. I will help you decode the book. We work together well.”
Marcus hesitated again. He was safer alone. He always had been. She was safer without him. He didn’t want to be responsible for her. Yet, it was because of her that he was alive. Four men had attacked him. If she hadn’t been there…
“I’ll protect you against my family,” Sage offered with a smile.
Marcus grinned. “If they find us.”
“They’ll find us.”
Yes, they most likely would. He turned and looked at the swaying branches of the trees and bushes as if the answer lay there. “Why would you willingly travel with me? I kidnapped you. I killed Brother Nicolas. Four assassins attacked us. Do you want to read that badly?”
“Yes,” Sage admitted. She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and added, “Plus, I want to know what secret that book holds. Besides, you didn’t really kidnap me. I could have gotten away from you.”
“You tried.” He rubbed his jaw at the memory of her kick.
Sage shrugged. “Once. I could have kept trying, but you promised to teach me to read.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, appraising him. “The only thing that bothers me about you is how you killed Brother Nicolas. He was unarmed. It was a brutal thing to do.”
Marcus bowed his head, his lips clenched. It bothered him, too. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
Chapter 13
Shocked, Sage stared at him. Was he trying to gain her sympathy? She doubted it. “I saw you do it. You ran him through.”
Marcus shook his head, and waves of his blond hair swayed with the movement. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was turning, and he lunged for the book.” He gazed thoughtfully, remorsefully at the dirt ground. “I would have bound him and left him. I would have been long gone before he told anyone I took the book. He posed no threat.”
She played the scene over in her mind. Could it be as he said? Now, without the filter of hate and disbelief, she saw exactly what had happened. Brother Nicolas had jerked forward as Marcus whirled. Marcus hadn’t moved his arm forward for the death lunge. He hadn’t meant to run Nicolas through. It was as Marcus had said. Nicolas was old, and he presented no danger to him. Sage had crossed swords with Marcus. She knew how good he was. If he had meant to kill Brother Nicolas, he would have done it.
“It was a mistake,” he insisted. “I tracked Sterling to le Bezu. As I was moving to intercept him to take the book, I overheard you and Nicolas.”
Her mind whirled. “Sterling? You mean Christian?”
He nodded.
“Christian was at le Bezu?” What was going on? Why would both Christian and her father be at the chateau?
Marcus nodded. “I had meant to confront him and procure the book, but I heard you and Brother Nicolas decoding it.”
Guilt settled around Sage’s shoulders. They hadn’t been decoding the book. Brother Nicolas was teaching her how to decode.
“Now I know you were being taught to solve the puzzle. I realize I was wrong.” Marcus looked up at her. “I never meant to hurt him.”
There was truth and anguish in his voice, and Sage felt a tug of sympathy.
He chuckled mockingly. “This probably taints the villainous image you have of me.”
She stepped closer to him. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But for the better.”
He shook his head. “He was old. We weren’t friends, but that didn’t mean I had to use force on him.”
His blue eyes were full of regret and something else. Something that called to her like a beacon. Her gaze swept his handsome, rugged face lined with agony, finally coming to rest on his tortured eyes. She placed a hand on his smooth cheek for comfort. She was not good at comforting, but it didn’t seem to matter. She wanted to touch him, to soothe him. Her gaze lingered on his lips. Such torment. Such remorse. She just wanted to...wanted to…
Without thinking, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, giving him a gentle kiss. His lips were warm and firm. Heat exploded through her, terrifying her.
She pulled back and dropped her hand from his skin. “I’m sorry. I—”
Marcus dropped the saddlebag and cupped her face, pulling her lips back to his.
Her curiosity was overwhelmed by the hunger in his kiss, leaving her powerless to do anything but respond. He moved his mouth expertly over hers, igniting a sudden fire in her stomach. She was swept away by the force of his need and her own. She responded eagerly, closing her eyes and answering his kiss. His lips were gentle as they caressed hers. She threaded her fingers through his hair.
He drew her tight against his hard body, wrapping his arms about her. He kissed her lips, his tongue moving delicately over them, coaxing her to open to his exploration.
Sage parted her lips with a soft sigh.
He thrust his tongue forward, sweeping it through her mouth.
Startled, she pulled back. Her lips tingled from his kiss. Willow had told her stories about kissing, but she had never experienced it before. She quickly stepped away from him, separating from the warmth of his body.
Marcus’s brow furrowed in confusion, and then, his mouth opened in surprise, realization dawning in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
She quickly shook her head. “Don’t apologize. I started it.” She had been unprepared for the searing heat that he had ignited inside of her. She had been unprepared for the depth of the kiss, even though Willow had told her. She had just...wanted to know what he felt like, what his kiss would taste like, what he would taste like.
“Then we both are at fault,” he admitted.
He was being kind. Embarrassed, she wondered if she had kissed wrong. She wasn’t sure since it was the first time that she had ever kissed a man. She searched for something comforting, something she was familiar with. “Can I have the book back?” she asked.
Marcus’s gaze swept her.
“Since we are working together,” she added.
He hesitated for a moment. “You must promise me one thing.”
Her stare brushed his face from his eyes to his lips. A tremor swept through her.
“You have to promise that if there is trouble, you will run,” he urged.
“Run?” she asked with distaste and abhorrence.
“Either that or we cannot work together.”
Sage paused for a long moment. Running away from battle was not the Hawke way. They were taught to stay and fight. Still, she would agree to anything in order to decode the book. And to learn to read.
And to remain with Marcus.
The last part shocked her. But, reluctantly she nodded. “Even though I
don’t like it, I’ll agree.”
Marcus bobbed his head and reached in the saddlebag to pull out the book. He handed it to her.
She took the book, staring down at its black leather cover. It was safer for her to stay rooted in learning and deciphering. In knowledge. She wasn’t like Willow. She wasn’t pretty. She didn’t like the attention of men. She had only wanted to know what a kiss felt like. What Marcus’s kiss felt like.
And now she knew. The only problem was it had awakened another level of curiosity in her. If his kiss could make her feel so heated, what could his touch do?
I might have agreed to run, she thought slyly, but I will not stop leaving a trail for my sisters to find me. Even though she enjoyed his kiss, and he was teaching her to read, she didn’t trust him. She placed a hand over the pocket in her breeches where she kept the ripped-up pieces of parchment.
Chapter 14
The moon was high overhead when Marcus finally continued teaching Sage to read. It cast muted light over them as he scribbled letters into the dirt. He concentrated on teaching her sentences and putting words she knew together. After that, they worked a little on decoding the book.
Now, he sat against a tree across from Sage. She stared off into the distance, the book wrapped in her arms. Occasionally, she lifted her gaze to him. He knew he should be concentrating on their attackers, on trying to figure out who they were and if there were more of them coming.
Sage had kissed him. He couldn’t get the thought from his mind. She had pressed her soft lips to his. And his response had been instantaneous. Desire had pounded through his veins. Yet, he knew by her reaction to the kiss that she was innocent. No man had kissed her as he had. The thought was intoxicating.
He mentally shook himself. He had to think of something else.
Her legs were bent, and she hugged the book protectively. His gaze roamed slowly over her body. Firm and yet curvy. He had felt her curves against his form, his arms around her, pulling her to him. Even now, heat churned in the pit of his stomach, a heat that demanded he go to her and kiss her again.
His eyes moved leisurely over her knees and down her legs. He licked his lips. He wondered if he tilted his head if he could see between her legs. He shook himself. She had breeches on! Good heavens, he thought.
His plan for the upcoming days, he reminded himself. Yes. Think of that. Rest for the night in the forest. Then, find the cave he had discovered near the stream as a child. Hopefully, they could rest a day there, where he would spend part of the time teaching her to read and part of the time making love to her delectable body. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He meant, part of the time deciphering the book. Then, they would head to the town of Les Labadous where he would meet Guillume at the inn near the border.
They could ride the horse together, and he could feel her delectable bottom…
He ground his teeth. He would meet Guillume near the border. And then, he and Sage could go off, and he could explore her body the way he wanted to.
He felt his cock shift. He expelled a breath through clenched teeth and altered his position, recrossing his legs. Think of something else. Focus, Marcus warned himself. He opened his eyes. Something poked him in the back, and he reached behind him to grasp the item. A small twig. He twirled it in his fingers.
Oh, how he wanted to gather her into his arms and taste her lips again.
He gritted his teeth and tossed the stick aside. The book. Yes, he was thinking about decoding it. He would hand the book over to Guillume regardless of whether they had deciphered it or not. He hoped that together, he and Sage could crack the code. Guillume would be so surprised that Marcus had brought it to him decoded. Guillume would shower riches and gold upon him. Rose would never want for anything.
His little Rose. He didn’t even know what she looked like. He knew she had blonde hair, but she had been too far away in Emma’s arms to see her truly. He wished he could hold her. But then he recoiled at the thought. He remembered her piercing cries as he rode through the night.
As much as he longed to be a present father to her, he knew that could never happen. It would have to be enough to leave the coin. It would have to be enough that another man was raising her. The fact that Ross was bringing up his daughter grated his nerves. Yet he was grateful and hoped Ross treated her like his own. He hoped Ross loved her as Emma did.
No one but Emma and Ross knew that Rose was his. And of course, Cassandra, Marcus thought bitterly. But he knew she would never care for Rose or him. Marcus had often thought of confiding in Guillume about Rose, but he had never told his cousin about his daughter. The image of his dream came to mind, Guillume with sharp teeth and red eyes. He was suddenly grateful Guillume did not know about Rose.
There had been a time growing up when he and Guillume were close. Very close. They told each other their most treasured secrets and desires. Marcus couldn’t recall what his aspiration had been, but he remembered Guillume’s. It had startled him. Marcus had expected wealth or strength. But Guillume had proclaimed his most treasured desire was power.
Was that what the book contained? Power? Prickles raced along his shoulders, and he rolled them to rid himself of the anxious feeling. This trepidation must be because of the dreams he’d been having.
He opened his eyes. Sage had lowered one of her legs, resting the book on the other one. Her sword lay in the scabbard beside her on the ground. But her eyes were locked on his. When she saw he was staring, she grinned and then lowered her gaze to the book.
Marcus’s mind began to wander over her body again.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
At first, Marcus wasn’t certain he had heard her. “Sorry?” he asked in confusion.
“For what I said. About your daughter being better off with someone else. Someone who doesn’t lie. Everyone lies.”
“You were angry,” he justified.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses for the bad things I do.”
Marcus nodded.
“But you’re right. I was angry. That doesn’t excuse it. I shouldn’t have said it.”
She had admitted her fault and apologized. It was more than many others would do. Marcus admired that. Silence spread around them. Crickets chirped in the distance. The leaves of the trees above their head rustled in a gentle breeze.
“You must miss her,” Sage stated.
Marcus bobbed his head. “When I am not being attacked.”
Sage grinned. Her smile slowly faded, and she wondered, “Do you visit her?”
“No. It’s best if Rose believes that Emma and her husband are her parents.”
“Are you certain?”
“She’s three. I don’t imagine it matters now,” Marcus said.
“It will. What happened to her mother? Why didn’t she want her?”
Marcus clenched his teeth. Cassandra. “She was spoiled, wealthy, and entitled. She said a child would ruin her chances at a better life. She kept the pregnancy a secret.”
“Did you love her?”
Marcus stared at Sage sitting across from him near the base of a tree. There was something in the tone of her voice, something in the glint of her eyes. He couldn’t place it.
“I don’t think I ever loved her. I loved being envied by other men. I loved being the sole recipient of her attention. Her newest bauble.” He chuckled self-loathingly and shifted his stare to the dark, cold ground. “I should have known. She grew tired of me and moved on. Then she discovered she was with child.”
He remembered when she had accused him of impregnating her on purpose, of spilling his seed inside of her to keep her, to bind her to him. “She threatened to get rid of the child. To drink some concoction and flush it out.”
His lips thinned in disgust. “I think in the end, she was too afraid of Hell to kill the babe. Either way, she was disgusted with me, and I didn’t see her for the entire pregnancy. I didn’t know whether she kept the babe or got rid of it. She wouldn’t see me. Then, one night, she
sent a messenger for me. She was lying in this big bed, the poor little baby on the chilly stone floor, not even wrapped in a blanket. Cast aside like refuge.”
Sage was leaning forward, a concerned look on her face. The book was forgotten beside her.
“At first, I didn’t know what to do. The baby was so small. I was afraid to pick her up. I was afraid I would hurt her.” He recalled the dark room, lit only by one candle very far from the baby. A midwife stood in the corner, pacing from Cassandra to the edge of the bed and back as if she wanted to tend to the child. “Her voice was callous and strained with hatred. She told me to take it and get out. And never, ever come back.”
“Marcus,” Sage gasped with sympathy.
Marcus waved her statement away. “It was a long time ago.” But he would never forget the Cassandra’s curled, venomous lips. “I never went back, and I never saw her again. I didn’t want to.” He looked at Sage. He had never told that to anyone. No one had asked. “What she did to Rose, her own flesh and blood, an innocent baby, was...unforgivable.”
Sage’s brow creased as she thought, and she sucked on her lower lip. “What a horrible person. How were you attracted to her in the first place?”
Marcus grinned. “I was young, inexperienced, and naïve. I just knew she was beautiful.”
Sage lifted her eyebrows. “Well, Rose is much better off without her.”
Marcus nodded. He would make sure that his daughter was loved and would never be hungry. He would make sure that she had a good life. “Do you have any children?”
Sage scoffed. “Me?” She shook her head. “No.”
“Ever been in love?” he asked.
She glanced down at the book and picked it up, placing it inside her armor. “No.”
Lord, Marcus wished he were that book. To be so treasured and hidden against her warm flesh. He mentally shook himself and thought of a question to distract himself. “Tell me of your family.”
Her brows rose. “What do you know about them?” she asked.
“Not much. I’ve heard talk.”
“You know they will not rest until I am safe.”
Sage: Medieval Romance Beauties With Blades Page 9
