Loving on Borrowed Time - Lovers Leap 1

by Olivia Cunning

  The cheering crowd seemed muffled to Lara as she waited for signs of life from Reece.

  “Get up,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Reece rolled onto his side and with the aid of Toby climbed to his feet. The crowd booed, but Lara was thanking the fates and God and any other deity who might have spared his life.

  “The first round goes to Lord Abbot,” the emcee announced.

  “He cheated!” Lara cried. She wasn’t sure where that had come from. “Sir Ferguson’s lance broke.”

  “The man brought his own lance,” Lord Abbot called over the crowd. “It’s not my fault he’s too poor to afford quality weapons.”

  A round of laughter rang through the crowd.

  Lara bit back a retort. Reece was walking towards his horse, which had come to check on his master. Wobbly on his feet, Reece pulled himself up into the saddle, favoring his left shoulder.

  “Don’t count me out, yet!” Reg called. “There are still two events.”

  Abbot spun his horse around. “Let’s finish this then. I hope to be wed within the hour.”

  Another cheer erupted from the crowd. Alyssa appeared at Lara’s elbow.

  “Did I miss the joust?” she asked, looking disappointed. “Who won?”

  “Lord Abbot won, naturally,” Lord Clayton said with a smirk.

  Alyssa tugged on Lara’s sleeve and she looked down at her. Alyssa beckoned her closer and cupped her hand around Lara’s ear, whispering, “I tried to distract him with that mirror. It would have worked if Abbot hadn’t sabotaged Reg’s weapon.”

  “That flash of light was you?” Lara asked in a harsh whisper.

  “Shh. I hate to admit defeat, but it looks like you’ll be married to Abbot this evening, sister.”

  “There are still two events,” Lara reminded her.

  “Have you ever seen Reg hit a target with any degree of accuracy?”

  Lara shrugged.

  “I didn’t think so. Reginald cannot beat Christopher at archery.” Alyssa’s eyes shifted to one side and she smiled wickedly. “Unless...”

  A trumpet sounded again. “The second event of the tournament will now commence,” the announcer called.

  The hum of the crowd died.

  “A duel of swords!”

  Lara’s eyes moved to Reece. He was already holding a long sword in his right hand and a shield in his left. At the other end of the arena, Abbot accepted a sword and shield from his squire.

  “The first man to be knocked from his steed shall be declared the loser.”

  Lara winced. She wasn’t sure if Reece would survive another fall from his horse.

  The knights approached the center of the arena, and faced each other between the fence and the spectator tent. Reece settled his shield to protect his chest and lifted his sword. With a loud cry, Abbot kicked his horse forward and brought his sword down with a loud clank against Reg’s shield. The trumpet announcing the start of the match sounded.

  “Cheating again,” Lara said under her breath. “Why isn’t anyone calling foul?”

  “Probably because these are Abbot’s people,” Alyssa said. “This is his castle.”

  Reg had recovered from the first stunning blow and swung his sword expertly, sometimes connecting with Abbot’s shield, sometimes his sword, sometimes an exposed bit of armor, but each strike found its mark. Abbot was continually forced backwards as he attempted to parry the blows. The crowd gasped each time a blow connected with Abbot’s armor and he’d wobble unsteadily in the saddle before recovering again. Lara dared not blink. One false move could prove fatal for either knight.

  Making his move, Reg kicked his horse forward and swung aggressively. He unsettled Abbot with his shield, then brought his sword in for three quick strikes and a forward thrust. Abbot teetered in his saddle. A final strike to the side of the head knocked Abbot to the ground with a loud crash.

  A wave of boos sounded through the crowd, but Lara was smiling and bouncing on the balls of her feet, barely able to contain her exuberance.

  “The victor of the second event is Sir Ferguson,” the announcer proclaimed.

  Another round of booing. Reece sheathed his sword in the scabbard at his hip, then removed his helmet. His perspiration-drenched hair was plastered to his head but the smile on his face as he looked at Lara made her heart catch in her throat. There was definitely something to this knight in shining armor thing. Toby appeared at Reece’s side, patting the armor on his leg excitedly. Reece handed his shield to the squire, then his helmet, before he dismounted.

  Lord Abbot was still on the ground. His helmet had been removed by his squire and the young man was talking to the knight in quiet tones. After several moments, Abbot sat up. The crowd, who’d been watching him in rapt attention, broke out into a spattering of applause.

  Reece took a long drink from a flask of water, his eyes trained on Lara in the stands. She offered him a discreet wave and he winked at her. She grinned stupidly and lowered her eyes. Why was her heart pounding so forcefully? Was it Eleanor? No, she realized. She had completely fallen for that fool, Reece Jericho.

  Damn it.

  “The third round will be an archery tournament,” the announcer said. “There will be a short intermission while the knights remove their armor and the targets are put in place.”

  “Now’s your chance,” Alyssa whispered into Lara’s ear.

  Lara was still staring at Reece, watching Toby help him remove his armor, and hoping to catch a glimpse of bare skin. God, she wanted to kiss the sweat off the side of his face. Why, oh why, was he all the way over there? “Huh?” Lara muttered distractedly.

  “Go talk to Lord Abbot,” Alyssa insisted. “He’s going to have to be pretty addled to lose an archery contest against Sir Reginald.”

  Lara glanced at her. “Do you really think anything I do can possibly help?”

  Alyssa huffed and then whispered, “Lure him behind that big oak tree. Rub up against him. Accidentally brush against his male parts. Get him really worked up, then I’ll come get you.”

  Lara’s stomach flipped over. “Are you sure that will work?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “And you promise to come save me from him.” She didn’t think sexually exciting her rapist was wise.

  “I’ll keep an eye out. When you’re ready for me to rescue you, put an arm out from behind the tree and I’ll hurry straight over.”

  Lara would rather eat live spiders than seduce Lord Abbot, but if it might help Reg, she was willing to try. Besides, while Eleanor might not know how to get away from the asshat, Lara knew self-defense. If he got too fresh, she’d kick him in the nuts repeatedly and jab his eyes out with her thumbs. Lara hurried from the spectator tent in the direction of Lord Abbot. His armor had been removed and he was drinking from a flask of water. He looked mostly dazed and confused already. She wondered if it was necessary for her to further unsettle him.

  “You shouldn’t be here, milady,” Abbot’s squire said. “The final match is about to begin.”

  Lara ignored him. “Can I have a word with you, my lord?” she asked Abbot.

  His gaze was already glued to her bosom. Oh, this guy was too easy. And so disgusting. How could Alyssa want to wed him? Was it really that important to marry a man with wealth and a title? Weren’t there any better prospects for a lady of this age? How demoralizing.

  “Can it wait?” Abbot’s tongue snaked out to moisten his thick lips.

  “It will only take a moment.”

  He set the flask aside and stood. He was still a little unsteady on his feet as he followed her to a large tree just beyond the tent. She drew him out of sight and then turned to face him, hoping her acting was half as good as Alyssa’s.

  “I had no idea you were such a powerful knight,” she said, stepping closer to him until mere inches separated her chest from his. She looked up at him between her lashes, and moved her hand to his thigh. “I want you, my lord. I want you to… I want you to…” She tried to fo
rce herself to say the words, but they wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter to him. Her back slammed into a tree as he collided with her, squeezing her breast with bruising force as his squishy mouth covered hers. She fought revulsion. Her hand moved to his crotch and she squeezed his hardening package roughly. Most men would have complained about her harsh treatment of his prized possession, but Abbot merely growled into her mouth, and rubbed himself against her punishing hand.

  He tore his mouth from hers. “You want me to hurt you, don’t you?”

  No, you sadistic bastard, I want you to die a horrible death. She squeezed his crotch even harder. He flinched, but covered her hand with his own and encouraged her to apply even more force up and down his length. She was so gonna soak her hand in bleach for a week when this was over. Ew. Ew. Ew.

  “You do drive me to distraction, milady,” he growled. He pulled her hand away so he could press his pelvis against hers, grunting even though several layers of clothing separated his gyrating hips from their prize. Lara threw a hand out to the side, praying Alyssa would keep her promise. Lord Abbot’s hand grabbed the coif on the back of her head and jerked her head to the side. He ran his slimy tongue up the side of her neck. His other hand was still bruising her breast. Did he really think a woman would enjoy this sort of treatment?

  “There you are,” Alyssa’s voice sounded from beside the tree. “Lord Abbot, it’s time for the archery match to begin. I suppose my sister could not wait until after the wedding ceremony to express her gratitude.”

  Abbot lifted his head. “Go away, Alyssa.” His hand was still on Lara’s breast, but he’d stopped gyrating against her at least.

  “The final round will only take a few minutes and then you can get back to fondling my sister.”

  He glanced down at Lara who was sure she was about to faint. She hadn’t taken a breath in a very long time as she attempted to keep herself from vomiting. She glanced at Alyssa who was glaring at her for not playing her part better. She had fondled the bastard’s disgusting junk. What more did the little schemer want?

  Lara swallowed her revulsion and rocked her hips against Abbot’s rock hard erection. “Hurry, Christopher,” she purred. “I want to ride you, my stallion.” She’d be needing a large bar of soap to scrub the foul taste of those words from her tongue. Lara forced her hand between their bodies to squeeze his balls. “Hurry.” She shoved him away then, and he stumbled sideways into Alyssa.

  “Hurry,” Alyssa repeated, shoving him in the direction of the arena.

  “Hurry,” he grumbled. “Yes, I’ll hurry.”

  He adjusted the bulge in his britches as he wound his way back to the tournament.

  “That was disgusting,” Lara complained.

  “But it will work,” she said. “Now, stand over there where the archers can see you, but the crowd cannot, and act suggestive. Hike up your skirt.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  Alyssa gave her a strange look. “If you are implying that I jest, I assure you I am entirely serious.”

  “I almost feel sorry for Lord Abbot. He stands no chance against you, sister.”

  Alyssa’s only response was a wicked grin. She walked back to the tent, leaving Lara standing near the end of the courtyard. A target was now sitting about ten yards from Reece who was patiently waiting for a stiff-legged Sir Abbot to join him.

  Abbot grabbed his bow from his squire. The lad’s eyes lowered to the bulge in Abbot’s fly, then widened. The boy bit his lip and turned around, quaking with silent laughter.

  The announcer’s voice carried across the courtyard. “The final round shall commence. The target will be moved ten paces back after each successful round. The first to miss the target loses. Lord Abbot will launch the first arrow.”

  A trumpet bugled and Lord Abbot adjusted his fly again before moving in line with the target. He lifted his bow, arrow in place and drew back the bowstring. Lara busied herself with shifting her breasts more comfortably in her bodice. She didn’t look up and wasn’t sure if he was watching her. There was a loud thwunk as the arrow struck the target. Applause followed. Apparently, Lara need to up her game.

  Reece’s arrow easily found its mark and two men moved the target back. Abbot took his mark again. Lara took a deep breath, pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall down around her shoulders, tossing her hair to get it to fall into place. Thwunk. Abbot’s arrow hit the target. This wasn’t working at all.

  “That was close,” the announcer said. “But he did hit the target.”

  Had he almost missed? Maybe this stupid plan was working better than Lara thought.

  Reece moved into position again. Lara tried not to stare at him, but the look of intensity on his handsome face stole her breath. He let the arrow fly. Thwunk.

  A collective gasp was followed by a spattering of applause. Abbot glared at the audience and the applause died.

  “Perfect shot,” the announcer said. The target was moved another ten paces back. Abbot took his aim again.

  Lara dropped her handful of hairpins accidentally/on purpose and bent to pick them up. She caught her skirt to expose the back of her leg and wiggled her hips. Thwat.

  Abbot swore loudly.

  “That’s a miss,” the announcer proclaimed.

  Abbot threw his bow on the ground. Reece took his mark. He steadied his arm, concentration unbreakable. Abbot charged toward him with his fist raised.

  “Reg, behind you!” Lara called.

  Reece ducked and elbowed Abbot in the gut. When Abbot flipped forward to cradle his injured midsection, Reece punched him hard in the jaw. Dazed, Abbot landed flat on his back. Ignoring the collective gasp from the audience, Reece lifted his bow, his bloodied knuckles steady. He let the arrow fly. Thwunk. The crowd broke into cheers. Lara couldn’t stop herself from racing in his direction.

  She heard the announcer proclaim. “The winner of the third match and the tournament is Sir Reginald Ferguson.”

  Reece tossed his bow aside and held his arms open to catch Lara in an exuberant embrace. He spun her around in his arms before lowering his head and claiming her mouth in a heated kiss. Reece... The cat calls from the audience faded into the background. Reece. For Lara, all the world—present and past—disappeared. There was only him. Reece. The time, the place didn’t matter. Only the man mattered. Reece’s heart thudded against hers, his arms comforting and strong around her. His lips tantalized her senses, stealing all coherent thought.

  When he drew away, he was smiling and she was weak in the knees.

  “You did it,” she said, smiling back.

  “I don’t guess I ever mentioned being part of a champion archery team in college.”

  She chuckled. “No, you did not mention that.”

  His grin set her soul on fire. “So, I guess Reg and Eleanor are officially engaged.”

  “I’m so happy for them. I think we should celebrate.”

  She didn’t know how it was possible, but his grin widened.

  “Congratulations,” Lord Clayton’s voice boomed from behind them. He extended a hand to Reece, who shook it vigorously. “I underestimated you, young man. You fought honorably. My daughter has permission to wed you.”

  Reece’s arm tightened around Lara and she leaned against him, her heart light. “Thank you, sir,” Reece said. “I am anxious to make Eleanor my wife, but may I request that the wedding be postponed until tomorrow night?”

  Lara looked up at him in question.

  “Very well. We shall make the arrangements and move the ceremony to my hold.” Lord Clayton nodded curtly and went to the stables to collect his horse.

  “Why do you wish to postpone the wedding?”

  “We’ll have leapt by then. I’d hate to intrude upon something so special between Reg and Eleanor.”

  She smiled. “It’s sweet of you to think of them.”

  “We can still celebrate their engagement though.”

  “No argument from me,” she said, letting her gaze wander
over his hard, masculine form. “There’s something about a champion knight that sets a woman all aflutter.”

  “If I’d have known that, I’d have dressed like a tin can sooner.”

  “I prefer you undressed actually,” she teased. She glanced over her shoulder and found Alyssa had Abbot’s head on her lap and was stroking his hair as she murmured to him. That sly girl didn’t miss a beat. Lara still couldn’t fathom how Alyssa could want him. So he had a castle. And money. And a title. So what? He was still a loser. A pig. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t stomach being in Christopher Abbot’s company a second longer.” Lara took Reece’s hand and they headed towards Toby who was bragging to Abbot’s squire about his superior training and the honorable knight he served.

  “You look ravishing in that dress, Lara,” Reece whispered in her ear.

  She flushed despite herself. “Thank you.”

  “I need to ask Toby something. Would you wait here for a moment?”

  She gave him a questioning look, but nodded. He spoke to Toby, got a vigorous pat on the back, and was handed the reins of his horse. Toby pointed out towards the east of the castle and patted Reece on the back again. Reece smiled at him in appreciation and then headed in Lara’s direction.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “It’s a surprise. We’re going for a ride.”

  She smiled. “A ride? Aren’t we going back to Clayton castle?”

  “Just a little side trip. Someplace private.” He leaned closer and his warm breath stirred the fine hairs behind her ear. “To celebrate.”