Master of Desire

by Kinley MacGregor

  He wanted her. He could have walked away or hurt her feelings, but he hadn’t. Whether he admitted it or not, he was a good man.

  And she wanted him.

  With a curse, he pulled away. “I refuse to do this,” he snarled, taking a step back from her.

  “Draven—”

  “Leave me,” he shouted at her. “I don’t want you near me. Can you not understand that I have given my oath and I will abide by it?”

  “Then marry me.” The words shocked her as much as they did him.

  He stared at her. “I cannot.”

  “Why?” she asked, her tone demanding. “People do it every day.”

  “There are many things people do every day that I have no wish to do. Now leave me in peace and tempt me no more.”

  Emily started to press him, but something inside told her not to. “Very well, milord. I will trouble you no longer. At least not for the moment. But I do wish for you to think the matter over carefully.”

  She started away from him, then stopped and turned back. “By the way…” Emily waited until he looked at her. “I will get a laugh from you yet.”

  Something strange fell over his face, as if he saw some nightmare playing before his eyes. “There is no laughter inside me,” he whispered. “It died long ago.”

  Emily frowned. “Don’t be silly. Everyone has laughter inside him.”

  “I don’t,” he said, then made his way to his horse.

  Emily watched after him, her thoughts swirling. Unwittingly, he had just dropped another gauntlet for her to pick up. And pick it up she would.

  “I will make you laugh, milord,” she said to herself. “And when I do, I will know you belong to me.”

  Hours later, they stopped for the night next to a pleasant stream. While the men set up camp, she and Alys took a few minutes in private to freshen themselves by the pond.

  When they returned to camp, their tents had been raised. Emily paused to watch Draven as he swung a heavy mallet to drive the tent stakes deep into the ground. His white linen tunic stretched taut over his muscles as he lifted the mallet above his head and brought it down.

  Her blood raced at the sight. Never had she seen a man so well formed, so strong. Indeed, it stole her breath to watch him.

  And when he was finished, a fine sheen of sweat covered him. He said something to one of his knights, before draping his saddlebags over his shoulder and heading for the pond.

  He was going to bathe, she thought with a start.

  And all she had to do…

  Oh, nay, her mind snapped, you cannot do that!

  Emily bit her lip. Aye, she could. Who would know if she spied upon him?

  “Go on.”

  She jumped at Alys’s voice in her ear. “Excuse me?” she asked.

  Alys gave her an impish smile. “I know what you’re thinking, milady. I saw your gaze follow His Lordship to the woods, and I say go on and see him for yourself.”

  “But Alys—”

  “But Alys nothing. A lady ought to have a chance to inspect the goods before she commits herself to the deed.”

  Heat flooded Emily’s cheeks. Her maid could be so very crude at times, and yet…

  It was rather tempting.

  Alys nudged her. “Go on. I shall whistle if anyone enters the woods behind you.”

  “And if he catches me?”

  “Say you lost your way. That is if he is of a mind to question you. Who knows, he might welcome your presence.”

  Emily glanced about the camp in indecision. Everyone was there, including Simon, who sat with two of the knights drinking ale from a skin.

  Did she dare?

  “If you’d like, I’ll go with you.”

  Emily blinked at her maid. “You’ll what?”

  Alys gave her an evil grin. “Be most happy to go along with you, if the truth were known.”

  Emily didn’t know what to say to that, until Alys spoke again, “Surely milady isn’t afraid to?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a child, Alys, and you can’t goad me into this by calling me craven.”

  “I would never do such,” Alys said innocently, but the look on her face belied her words.

  Alys trailed her gaze down to the bucket next to Emily’s feet.

  “Oh look,” Alys exclaimed dramatically. “I’m all out of water. How absolutely horrible. Why, I believe I needs go fetch more.” Alys scooped up the bucket and sauntered toward the trees. “Would milady care to join me?”

  “You are incorrigible!”

  Emily had a bad feeling about this, but by the look of her maid she knew Alys was not to be swayed.

  “Hand me the bucket and I—”

  “Oh nay, milady,” Alys said, blinking her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I could never allow you to fetch water. What would His Lordship say?”

  “Alys!”

  Her manner instantly changed to her normal demeanor. “Now you’ve got my curiosity up, milady. I have to go with you, but I’ll only stay a minute.” Her face turned to pleading. “Just a quick glance?”

  “We’ll both take one quick glance, then come straight back.”

  “Both of us?”

  “Both,” Emily repeated, then taking a breath for courage, she joined Alys, and the two of them made their way carefully through the trees.

  It didn’t take long to find Draven. He’d already shed his clothes and was waist-deep in the water. Emily’s face flamed as she and Alys squatted behind a large bush to watch him unobserved.

  “Lord’s toes, lady,” Alys breathed. “But I’ve never seen the like.”

  Neither had she. Emily’s throat was parched as she saw the deep, rippling muscles of his back. Tawny skin glistened with water, and every part of him was well muscled and strong. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist.

  And around his neck, he wore a small charm on a leather cord.

  Water trailed over his flesh, pooling in the small hairs of his chest. Even from this distance, she could tell how solid his chest was, and too easily she remembered the feel of being held close to that rock-hard body. The feel of his lips and hands on her flesh.

  She bit her lip at the memory and wished she had the audacity to walk the short distance that separated them.

  Draven bent down to wet his hair, giving her a peek of perfect tawny buttocks and a rear so well formed that it jolted her with forceful lust.

  Emily’s entire body throbbed as she watched him reach up and lather his hair. His strong fingers stroked the sable locks, and the sight of his rippling, wet arms did the strangest things to her.

  “I could do me laundry on that stomach,” Alys breathed. Then she nudged Emily with her elbow. “But you know what’s even better than laundry to rub on a man’s stomach?”

  Before Emily could answer, she heard something rustling in the trees behind Alys.

  Her eyes widened. “I think we’ve been caught,” Emily whispered, indicating the direction of the sound with a tilt of her head.

  Alys turned around to look at the same moment a wild boar broke through the hedge.

  For an instant Emily couldn’t move.

  Then Alys gave an ear-shattering scream.

  Draven turned at the loud shrieks, only to see two women bolting into the stream and toward him. He barely had time to brace himself before they ran him over and knocked him down.

  He came up from the water, sputtering, to find Emily and her maid jumping up and down, screaming at him, and gesturing wildly toward the bank.

  “A boar, a boar, a boar!” the maid repeated.

  “Quiet!” he demanded in a fierce, low tone. “And for the sake of your lives, stop moving.”

  To his amazement, they instantly obeyed. Draven took a cautious step forward to place himself between the women and the wild pig.

  He looked to where his sword lay useless a few feet from the panting beast. It pawed at the ground and eyed them fiercely.

  “It’s going to charge us,” Emily said, her voic
e high-pitched.

  “If you remain perfectly still it won’t charge,” he told her.

  “I’m not moving,” Emily whispered. “I will stay here until Gabriel sounds his golden horn.”

  “What are we to do, milord?” the maid asked.

  Personally, Draven wanted his clothes. Especially since Emily had him by his left arm in a grip so tight his hand was starting to tingle from lack of blood flow. He started to shrug her hold away, but didn’t dare lest the movement entice the boar or, worse, make Emily panic and run.

  “Can we outrun it?” Emily asked.

  Draven didn’t take his eyes from the boar. “’Tis not so much outrunning the boar, milady, as it is outrunning your maid and myself.”

  “Now you find humor?” Her voice was aghast.

  Moving his arm as slowly as possible, he shrugged off her grip. “’Tis not humor. Just a practical fact.”

  Slowly, carefully, he waded a little closer to his sword.

  The boar snorted and shook its head.

  Draven froze.

  Emily swallowed in fear as she watched him near the beast. How could he remain so calm while her heart pounded so fiercely she half expected it to leap from her chest?

  “Emily?” Simon called through the trees.

  She held her breath at Simon’s shout.

  The boar turned at the sound.

  “Simon, fetch a crossbow,” Draven shouted.

  The boar looked back at Draven and moved two steps nearer. Draven didn’t budge as he stared the animal dead in the eye.

  Emily swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “A crossbow? Why?” Simon asked as he came through the trees.

  The boar snorted once, stamped its foot, then charged at Simon.

  With a foul curse, Simon literally jumped up a tree. Draven ran for his sword and seized it while Simon pulled himself up and out of the reach of the boar’s pitching tusks.

  “Keep it distracted,” Draven ordered.

  “Oh, aye,” Simon growled as he tucked his legs up beneath him. “Keep it distracted, he says. Kill the damned beast, would you?”

  As Draven inched near it, the boar turned to face him. Draven stopped moving.

  Time seemed suspended as Emily waited for the boar to charge Draven’s naked form. Even though he held his sword, she knew not even he was a match for the beast. Worse, once a wild boar charged, it wouldn’t stop until it was fully dead.

  And the more it was wounded, the more damage it would do to the person who had wounded it.

  Terrified, she knew she had to do something to help him.

  “Here, piggy-piggy,” Emily called before she could stop herself.

  “Milady!” Alys screamed.

  Ignoring her, Emily splashed at the water. “Here, piggy-piggy.”

  The boar looked at her.

  Her chest tight, Emily trusted that somehow, some way Draven would keep her safe as she continued to entice the boar away from him.

  The boar came at her and Draven charged at it. The boar spun about in confusion as Draven raised his sword. As if realizing death was imminent, the boar squealed in terror, then bolted back into the forest.

  Relief swept through her so quickly, her legs buckled. Emily knelt in the water, trembling and laughing hysterically.

  The next thing she knew, Draven was by her side, helping her to her feet.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded, leaning on him for support. “I am merely thankful, milord, that even wild beasts are afraid of you.”

  She heard Simon’s laughter as he descended his tree, and it was only then she realized Draven had taken a moment to pull on his breeches.

  “What were you doing here?” Draven asked her, his tone sharp.

  Heat crept over her face. She didn’t dare tell him the truth.

  “Water,” Alys said before Emily could speak. “We came to fetch water for the camp, milord. Our bucket is beyond that bush where we dropped it.”

  Draven let out a loud breath as he released her. “The two of you should be more careful.”

  Then he looked at his brother. “And you…You were supposed to be watching them.”

  “Why do you think I came when I did? I heard them scream.”

  Draven glared at him. “Did you not think to fetch a weapon before you came in search of them?” He shook his head. “By my troth, Simon, some things a man should do without thought, and fetching a crossbow when women are screaming should be one of them.”

  Simon looked sheepish. “Well, I shall try and keep that in mind the next time a boar attacks you.”

  Emily exchanged a timid look with Alys as Draven went to fetch their bucket. He lingered over the spot, and when he didn’t come right back, Emily moved to join him.

  “Is something amiss, milord?” she asked.

  Draven picked up the bucket and gave her a suspicious look. “You came to fetch water?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then why were the two of you kneeling here so long that you made a deep indentation in the grass?”

  She was caught!

  “I…um…” She tried to think up a reasonable lie, but nothing would come to her mind.

  “Well, you see…We…”

  Oh, why couldn’t she think up something?

  “You what?” Draven asked.

  A devilish light burned in his eyes as he watched her closely. Oh, he was enjoying her discomfort. Too much.

  Lifting her chin, she decided to rob him of his torment. “Very well, we came to see you bathe, if you must know the truth of it.”

  He arched a brow at her. “I suppose I should be flattered.”

  Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes to the necklace about his neck. It was a single golden rose blossom suspended on a leather cord that rested just between his hard, well-sculpted pectorals. But what caught her notice most was the vein beneath the leather that beat in time to his heart.

  Draven felt her breath fall against his naked chest. It raised chills the length of his body.

  He waited for her to speak, but she seemed entranced by his heraldic emblem that Queen Eleanor had given him when he won his first tournament.

  “Have words finally failed you?” he asked.

  Before she could answer, Simon and her maid joined them.

  Simon tossed his tunic to him. “We should set up a watch to keep an eye out for that boar.”

  “Aye. As well as other things that might come upon a man when he least expects it.”

  That got her to look at him again. Her cheeks pink, she narrowed her dark green eyes on him.

  An overwhelming urge to kiss her seized him, and if they were alone, he doubted he would have had the strength to deny it. Instead, he focused his attention on Simon and not her moistened lips.

  So, she had come to spy upon him.

  In truth, he was flattered, and most dreadfully aroused by the knowledge. What he truly wanted to know was, had she liked what she’d seen?

  Never before had he cared what a woman thought of him. But for some reason, he wanted her to desire him as much as he desired her.

  Are you mad?

  Aye, he must be. There was no other explanation. The last thing he needed was for her to want him any more than she already did.

  With that thought in mind, he grabbed his tunic, handed her the bucket, and quickly dressed himself.

  “We’d best get back to camp before the boar returns,” Draven said, then led the way.

  Emily followed behind Draven with Simon by her side. As they walked back to camp, it dawned on her what she’d done while they faced the boar.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she had trusted Draven with her life. Never before had she done such a thing. She’d always been adventurous, but never to the point of such foolishness as she had shown with the boar.

  But in her heart she had known he wouldn’t allow her to be harmed. And he had proved her right.

  “Thank you, Lord Draven,” she
said.

  He looked back at her over his shoulder. “For what?”

  “For saving me.”

  His look softened. “I should say the same for you. Had you not distracted the beast, I’m sure I’d be tending a severe wound right now.”

  “Oh, Draven,” Simon said in a falsetto as he clasped his hands together and held them to his shoulder. He gave Draven a worshipful look. “You’re my hero too!”

  Simon sniffed as if he were holding back tears and threw his arms about Draven’s shoulders. “If not for you, that mean old boar would have eaten me alive.”

  Draven pushed Simon away from him. “Get off me, you nimble-pated gelding.”

  “But Draven,” Simon said again in his falsetto, “You’re my hero. Give me a kiss.”

  Draven ducked Simon’s embrace and stepped behind Emily. “What are you? Moonstruck?”

  “Fine then,” Simon snapped. “Here, Emily, you kiss him for me.”

  And before either one knew what Simon was about, she found herself tossed into Draven’s arms.

  Their bodies collided.

  Draven’s arms encircled her, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe as she stared up into those startled blue eyes. Heat sizzled between them, skipping along both their bodies. Stealing their breath and setting fire to their blood.

  When Draven made no move to kiss her, Simon tsked.

  “Fine then,” Simon said, pulling her out of Draven’s embrace and into his own. “Let me show you how a kiss is given.”

  Simon dipped his lips to hers, but before he could make contact, Draven caught his chin in one hand and pulled his face away from hers. “If your lips so much as pucker near hers, I will geld you, brother.”

  Simon gave her a wink. “Whatever you say, brother dearest. Whatever you say.”

  Simon let go of her and Draven let go of him.

  “But I say this,” Simon said as he straightened his tunic with a tug. “If such a tender maid had saved my life, I think I could find a better way to thank her than with mere words.”

  “I’m sure you could.”

  Simon ignored him and took Alys by the arm. “Hey, Maid Alys, ’twould appear you forgot to get your water. What say you that I accompany you back to the pond lest the boar return?”

  “I would thank you most kindly for your chivalry, milord.”