“It could put your lives in danger. I can’t ask you to help us,” Marcus asserted.
William grinned, glancing at Sage. “I’ve known the Hawkes for a long time. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Sage’s face twisted with gratitude. She embraced William. “Thank you.”
Marcus envied the connection they had, the friendship. He had friends, but none that would help him as William was doing.
Jacob, Agnes, Amy, and Emily returned carrying trenchers and mugs of ale.
William waved his hand. “Wrap it in cloth, Agnes. They are leaving. Jacob, saddle two of our best horses. Amy, Emily, help your ma get the food and ale ready for them.”
The younger farmers immediately moved to do William’s bidding. Agnes stood for a moment, staring at Sage with a crease of worry on her brow before she bowed her head and returned to the back room.
“Please be careful, William,” Sage pleaded.
William smiled. “We’ve done this before for your father.”
Marcus held out a hand. “Thank you.”
William clasped it just below the elbow. “You take care of her.”
Marcus nodded. “I will. You must take my horse when the blacksmith is done shoeing him.”
“When it is safe, I will be certain to do exactly that,” William agreed.
“When this is over, I’ll be back to pay you,” Sage promised.
William dismissed her statement with a wave. “You girls gave us our daughters. You owe us nothing. We owe you the world.”
Marcus led them to the door.
“Go out the back,” William called. “There is direct access to the forest.”
Marcus nodded and followed Sage to the back room door. “Thank you again for your help.”
William’s gaze shifted between Marcus and Sage, echoing Sage’s earlier sentiment. “Be careful.”
Marcus vigilantly navigated the horse through the forest. Every instinct he had was heightened. He listened to the sounds of the forest. He watched for any sudden movements. One assassin left. Trailing them, most likely. Marcus kept to the cover of the trees and brush, moving slowly and then changing pace to a canter as they hurried toward the road. They rode down the road for a while, and then he turned into the forest again for cover. He glanced back at Sage. She was watching, too, scanning the surrounding area. They both knew how dangerous this was.
Marcus hoped they had lost the last assassin. He hoped that having two horses instead of one would throw him off their path. At the very least, he hoped that the assassin had followed them to the blacksmith’s shop in le Carla and was waiting for them there. Or that the assassin had gone back to report to whomever had hired him. But Marcus knew he couldn’t count on that. He had to assume the man was still tracking them, waiting for the right time to attack.
He backtracked, steering the horse the way they had come, hoping to evade the assassin if he was still pursuing them. He steered his horse through the forest, around to the stream he knew from his days as a boy. He would find the cave, which was situated near a pond by the stream. He wanted to rest for the remainder of the day and make certain no one was following them.
Because of the stop in le Carla, he had lost valuable time. Now, instead of an entire day, he only had half of a day before he had to meet his cousin. Guillume would be waiting for him in Les Labadous at noon on the morrow.
They rode until the sun was high in the sky. Marcus knew the cave was close. He concentrated on the surroundings, the rustling of the leaves, the chirping of the birds. Although everything seemed normal, he did not let his guard down.
He rounded a bend and pulled the horse to a stop, signaling Sage to do the same with a lift of his hand. His gaze skimmed the secluded area.
A small pond glistened in the dappled sunlight. Two large, angled rocks formed a shelter. But Marcus was not looking at the relaxing landscape. He was searching the woods for movement, for the assassin.
When he saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary, he dismounted. Sage followed his lead. They walked the horses along the shoreline to the cave.
“What are we doing here?” Sage asked.
“Resting. Making certain we’ve lost the assassin.”
“You want to set a trap for him?” Sage asked.
Marcus turned to her. “No. I want to make sure we are safe before I have to turn over the book.”
Sage nodded and angled her jaw as if in thought. “What would happen if you didn’t give the book to your cousin?”
Truthfully, the thought had never occurred to him. Guillume had asked him to get the book, and he had. “I wouldn’t get my coin.”
Sage hmmed and looked around at the forest and pond. “Is this place safe?”
Marcus shrugged. “I hope so. We’ll still have to keep an eye out.” He led his horse to a tree. “I’ll look around the area. You stay here.”
Sage wrapped the reins of her horse around a tree limb. He was about to depart when she asked him, “Why didn’t you leave me in le Carla?”
Marcus pulled himself up onto his horse. “It wasn’t safe.”
She stared at him with her hand on her hip as if she didn’t believe that was the answer.
“I couldn’t leave you there,” Marcus admitted, hoping he didn’t sound too concerned for her. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. The true reason he couldn’t leave her was that she was involved in this as deep as him, now that the last assassin knew about her.
“Is it because you still want to decipher that book?”
Marcus had to admit that Sage’s comment about directions had intrigued him. But even though he was curious about what was hidden in the book, he would be glad to hand it over to Guillume and get his coin. He wanted to see Rose. And he wanted to be done with this assignment.
He shook his head, reached back, and opened the saddlebag to pull out the book. He stared down at it. It was nothing but a burden to him. He tossed it to her. “Yes,” he lied. “That’s exactly why.”
She caught the book, but her gaze didn’t waver from him. Her eyes narrowed slightly in disbelief. “You’d best be careful. You don’t want me to think you care for me.” Before he could reply, she turned away, opening the book.
Marcus stared at her. No, he didn’t want that. And he certainly didn’t care for her. And yet, as he watched her, a grin slid over his lips. He spurred his horse into the forest to scout for the assassin.
They had been working on the book for over two hours. They sat side by side, but not touching.
Marcus looked at Sage sideways. Her knee was lifted, and she was gazing down at the book, her arm resting on her raised knee. She flicked the feathered quill beneath her nose again and again. She was tenacious. He loved that about her. Loved? The word startled him, and he pushed the thought away, tearing his gaze from her. She was loved by others, but not by him. He admired her, yes. He was intrigued by her, yes. He enjoyed her company, yes. But he knew he would have to let her go. When she was safe. “Where will you go?”
Sage glanced up at him in confusion.
“After I give the book to Guillume,” Marcus clarified. “What are your plans?”
Sage shrugged.
Marcus stretched his hand out to grab a bag. He searched through it. He was glad to see that it was well-stocked with food. He pulled out one of the cloth-wrapped packages that were still warm. “You can always stay with those farmers. What was his name? William?”
Sage didn’t look up. “I’ll find my sisters. Maybe I’ll even convince them not to kill you.”
Marcus grinned. “I would appreciate that. I already have one person who wants to kill me. I don’t need more.”
Sage shifted her gaze to him. “Will you go see Rose?”
“I’ll leave coin for Rose, yes.” He handed her the wrapped food.
“I think you should visit with her.”
Marcus had already explained his reasoning for not interfering in his daughter’s life. “Those farmers...William. How do you k
now them?” He purposely changed the subject.
Sage unwrapped the food. “Family friends. My father knew them. My sisters and I saved the girls from…” She stopped, and even though she was looking down at the food, her eyes got a faraway, dark look to them, “A very bad life. Agnes and William took them in. Now they’re family.”
“It was kind of them to help you without question.”
“That’s what friends do. I would do the same for them.”
Marcus pulled out another cloth-wrapped piece of food. He longed to have that kind of friendship. The only person he considered close to that kind of relationship was Guillume. He parted the cloth and gazed at the meat. It must be chicken. Cooked, warm, and delicious. He couldn’t remember when he last had meat. Eagerly, he took a bite. His mouth watered as the intense flavor exploded through his mouth. “Oh. This is delicious.”
Sage smiled as she bit a piece of her chicken.
Marcus took two more bites and then removed the flask of ale from the bag. He drank deeply and handed it to Sage.
They ate in silence for a while, Marcus gazing at Sage. A longer lock of her hair hung loosely at the side of her face, swaying with her movements. Her angled jaw worked as she chewed her food. His gaze floated lower over her breasts and hips. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
Sage shrugged. “I had nothing better to do.” She grinned at him, and her brown eyes sparkled. Then, she peered down at the book. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss finding out what secrets this book holds for anything.”
“For anything?” His gaze roamed over her face, lingering on her lips. He quickly looked away, feeling the stirrings of heat in the bottom of his stomach. He wanted to touch her again, and that was very dangerous.
That longer strand of hair fell forward. She growled in frustration, tossed aside the cloth the chicken meat had been wrapped in, and pulled her sword from its sheath. She tugged on the lock and swiped the sword through it, cutting it. She held it before her, snarling, “There,” before flicking it aside.
Marcus finished the chicken and placed the cloth on the ground. Then, he removed his dagger from his belt. “Turn around.”
She twisted to gaze up at him. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to even out your locks,” Marcus stated.
“Oh,” Sage said.
Marcus knelt behind her. “I’ve done this to my hair, but no one else’s.”
Sage shrugged. “It can’t be worse than it is now.” She sat straight with her hands folded in her lap.
Marcus gently drew the back of her hair straight. The strands of brown were soft, and for a moment, he stroked a strand between his thumb and forefinger. Then he snapped himself out of his reverie and ran the blade across it, evening out the hair at the nape of her neck, which was the shortest. It fell to just below her hairline. The ends curled against his fingers, wrapping around them. He swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. No woman had enticed him the way she did.
There was something about her that tempted every fiber in his body.
I’m only cutting her hair, he told himself and shifted to her side. His stomach bumped her shoulder and quivered in response. He reached for another strand of her hair and ran the blade through it, along her jaw. His gaze glided over her profile. She was beautiful. She had a strong jaw, a pert little nose, and high cheekbones. He paused for a moment to get his growing desire under control.
Quickly, he moved behind her, grateful she could not see him. He was afraid his desire would be easy to recognize. This was not the time or place. There was a man hunting them to kill them. And the book... They didn’t have time. And yet…
He moved to her other side, cutting her hair until it was even. Then he returned to the spot behind her. He brushed a hand along her warm nape to sweep the hair from her neck. He felt her shiver, a delicious temptation.
Just cutting her hair, he reminded himself again. He placed the dagger on the ground and knelt before her. Taking a lock on each side of her face, he pulled it down to see if it was even. His gaze swung from one strand across her face to the other. And then his stare found her eyes. Large, bright, brown, and beautiful. Tempting.
He knew he was lost.
He couldn’t protect her.
And he couldn’t resist her.
Chapter 19
Sage stared into the most wonderful blue eyes she had ever seen. There was a connection between Marcus and her that made her entire body come alive. His nearness was overwhelming, making her heart hammer in her chest. She wanted to kiss his lips again and again.
He brushed his fingers down her cheek to her jaw.
His skin grazing hers sent searing heat through her body. She wanted him to find her desirable. She wanted him to see her as beautiful as well as smart. She was trembling with want.
Yet, he didn’t move. His gaze skimmed over her face and every spot it touched tingled until she could take no more. The need to touch him, the desire to kiss him, was so strong that she flung herself forward to kiss his lips.
He caught her, welcoming her kiss with open arms.
Desperate, they came together.
He took her mouth with a savage intensity that ignited flames of passion through her. Blood pounded through her mind in cadence to her beating heart.
She wanted to see him. She wanted to feel his power. She wanted to stroke his strong body. Eagerly, she grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it over his head, tossing it aside.
He was magnificent. She pulled back to look at his torso. She had seen men shirtless before. But not like this. Not like Marcus. She reached out and grazed his hot shoulder with her fingers, gasping softly. He was hard—all hard planes and ridges. She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arms. He had muscles everywhere, muscles she had never seen in a man before. His arms were large and strong. When he lifted them to rest his hands at her waist, she felt his biceps flex. He was amazing.
Trembling, she touched his chest and let her fingers trail down his ribbed stomach. Firm planes lined his stomach and ribs. Her mouth dropped open in awe.
He claimed her lips again, pulling her close, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
Urgency built in her with every sweep of his tongue, with every touch of his hands. When she realized he was undoing the buckles on her armor, her breathing increased, and her breasts swelled. Impatiently, she undid the buckles he had not reached yet and shrugged her armor off.
The half-chemise she wore beneath it was the only barrier between their skin. She wanted to have him against her. She lifted her chemise over her head and threw it to the ground.
Marcus’s gaze moved slowly and hungrily over her.
If she weren’t so ravenous for him, she might have been embarrassed at his stare. But she wanted to feel him. She raised her arms to embrace him, but he caught her wrists and slowly lowered them to her sides. His fingers brushed her lips, trailing a searing path over her jaw, down her throat, over her chest to the outside swell of her breast. She inhaled sharply as his thumb brushed her hardened nipple. His hand engulfed her small globe, his fingers moving around and under and over. The gentle message sent currents of desire sweeping through her. Her breasts surged at the tenderness of his touch.
He lowered his head to her, and his lips skimmed her taut nipple, sending waves of exhilaration through her. His hands dropped to her curved hips as she threw her head back, arching into his teasing touch. Spirals of desire and want crested over her until she believed her legs would no longer support her where she knelt before him.
He grasped a blanket from where he had planned to sleep and opened it, spreading it over the ground. Then he wrapped his arms around her, lowering her to the ground. As he lay over her, kissing her lips again, her breasts pressed against his bare skin. Their arms entwined, their torsos touching skin-to-skin. His hand glided over her rounded hip to her long legs.
She gasped lightly between parted lips. She had never known... Willow had not told her how... She gasped again as he
kissed her neck, floating a trail of light caresses down her throat.
His hand moved across her flat stomach to the ties of her leggings. He tugged the string impatiently, and she reached down to pull the strings open. She was so wet. So very ready for him. He lay on top of her, and she opened her legs for him, instinctively nudging her hips to his. She could feel his excitement, his readiness, and she reached down between them to untie the strings of his leggings.
“Sage,” he gasped.
She had never heard her name whispered with such want, such desire.
He leaned his head into her shoulder, dragging in breaths. Then he looked at her. “Are you certain?”
She stared at him in disbelief. She pressed kisses to his lips, whispering, “Yes. Oh, yes.”
He touched her at her most intimate spot, sending swirling passion pounding through her. It was as though his stroke soared her to the heavens. She couldn’t help but cry out for release.
And then, he eased himself into her, slowly filling her. She gasped as the world shifted. When he began to move, she matched his rhythm, building and climbing higher until she shattered into a million floating stars. The world erupted around her, and she returned to Earth, cushioned in his arms.
He stared down at her, his gaze drifting over her face. He kissed her lips. He kissed her cheeks.
When he shifted his gaze to her again, she said, “Do it again.”
A soul-wrenching smile came over his lips. He began to move his hips, leisurely at first, gliding in and out of her body. Filling her, then retreating. She drove up to meet him, their bodies moved together in harmony. He groaned softly, matching her thrusts. Then, he stiffened and pulled himself out of her. His seed splashed across her stomach.
Her mind analyzed what he had done. Saved her from becoming pregnant. It was a selfless act. And she should have considered it. What would her family say if she had come back to them fat with child? Still, she had not considered the possibility, and it annoyed her. She had been so...involved, so full of feeling, that her mind had not worked as it normally did.
He took a leaf from the ground and wiped her stomach clean, then discarded it. He stretched out beside her, pulling her into his warm, sated embrace.
Sage: Medieval Romance Beauties With Blades Page 12
