Vow of Seduction

by Angela Johnson

  Chapter 18

  While Kat and Alex were occupied in the linen closet, another secret, more sinister conversation was taking place.

  “I see you are making some progress,” said the first of two men.

  Luc shrugged at his companion’s comment. “’Tis not a difficult task.”

  The first man laughed evilly. “Indeed. I, too, have made some progress in our endeavor. But, unlike me, you don’t appear pleased with our success.”

  “I just…I am having doubts about my part in this affair.”

  “Why these sudden doubts?” the first man asked angrily. “Need I must remind you of what you will gain when our plan succeeds?”

  “Nay, ’tis all I can think about,” Luc said, impassioned.

  “Then hold the course, and you shall have everything you desire.”

  “I know. I’m just weary of the enterprise.”

  The first man’s face contorted swiftly, becoming ugly. “You are weary?” he spat, grabbing Luc’s tunic, his face red, “You fool. I have waited and plotted for too long for you to back out now. This is only the beginning of my plans for revenge. Certes, and I will not let you destroy everything because you have suddenly found your conscience.”

  “Get your hands off me,” Luc said and shoved the other away like a dirty peasant. Luc smoothed the wrinkles in his silk tunic. “I have no intention of backing out of the plan. But just do not expect me to take pleasure in what we do. I am doing this for her, and only for her—so we can be together at last.”

  Luc listened as the blond man spoke of revenge, disgusted by the vermin standing before him, but more so with himself. He had once been an honorable man. But his obsession with one woman had changed all that.

  The cupboard was incredibly dark inside. Kat’s senses became very acute as Alex’s heavy weight pressed her into her bed of linens. His warm breath panted in her ear. The linen nap chapping her cheek, she inhaled his masculine scent of sandalwood and sweat.

  “You are the most stubborn, wayward, hot-headed—”

  “I thank you for the compliment. Now release me, you big ox.”

  “So now you wish to be cooperative?”

  She shivered at the silken caress of his lips against her ear. “Nay. I want naught to do with you. Except for you to get off me. I cannot breathe.”

  She was astounded when Alex rolled off her and plopped down on his back beside her. Suspicious of his easy compliance, she turned over onto her back, cradling her throbbing wrist on her chest, and braced for some sort of trick. Though tender, her wrist was not injured and as moments passed she began to relax.

  Alex shifted onto his side and with infinite gentleness he lifted her hand off her chest. The movement was not awkward, and she marveled at his unerring perception. She could not see her own hand in the dark. He kissed her sore wrist, surprising her. “Does it hurt too terribly? Forgive me, Kat. I did not mean to hurt you.”

  She was hot. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple and their breaths intermingled. The dark created an intimacy that felt much too comfortable for Kat’s peace of mind.

  She pulled her hand free. “What do you intend, then?”

  “Pardon?”

  “What do you intend to do with me now? What new scheme have you devised to bend me to your will?”

  Kat heard Alex shrug. “I merely want to speak with you.”

  “Nay. I do not trust your sudden change in attitude. I threatened you with a dagger and was going to lock you in the cupboard. ’Tis unlike you not to retaliate.”

  “Aye, ’tis true, but something you said changed my mind.”

  “It did?” she asked in a bewildered voice.

  “You said you wished me to know ‘how it feels to be powerless and at the mercy of another.’ But I, of all people, understand how it feels to be powerless. My captors taught me that lesson most thoroughly. For that reason, I should have realized how my behavior made you feel. That I did not, shames me.”

  Kat grimaced as it finally sunk in what she had been about to do. Alex had suffered years of imprisonment and she had planned to lock him in a dark, confined space for several hours. No wonder he had struck her with such force. Since he kept his pain well hidden behind a stoic façade, she tended to forget the invisible scars he must carry around with him every day. She would never know to what extent his captivity had altered him.

  Kat cleared her throat nervously. “Now I must apologize. I didn’t think how my actions might cause you distress. You always appear so strong, I forget how much you must have suffered.”

  Though he did not respond, Alex exhaled a deep breath. Tension rippled across her flesh. His hand brushed hers at her side. Unnerved, she sat up to rise, but he caught her hand.

  “Wait a moment, if you would. I wish to speak to you about a matter of utmost importance.”

  “Can it not wait until later? We should leave before someone discovers us in the linen cupboard. I need to dress for supper.”

  “Nay. It can’t wait. I need to know what happened out there today on the hunt. ’Tis imperative you tell me your version of events.”

  Kat jerked her hand free and stood up, planting her hands on her hips. Alex rose, too. “Why? I need not defend my actions to you. Nor would it matter, you are too besotted with Lydia to ever believe she would deceive you.”

  “So you contend that she lied to me?”

  “Aye…nay…what I mean is that I shall not defend myself to a man who believes me capable of malicious intent. How do you think it makes me feel knowing you believe Lydia can do no wrong, while you believe such of me? Give me one reason why I should trust you.”

  “I know I have given you no reason to trust me in the past, Kat, but I know you would harm no one unless provoked. Also, I believe Lydia lied to me. Long have I been blind, but now the veil has been lifted and I can see more clearly.”

  Although she did not see him move, whisper-soft fingers caressed her jaw. She sensed his overpowering presence in the light touch, his irregular breathing, his masculine scent that filled her nostrils. Kat tried to resist the growing attraction, but the compelling intimacy of the moment held her in thrall.

  His coaxing voice reached out to her in the dark. “Will you not tell me the truth?”

  Think of it as a test, she thought desperately. If he did not believe her, Kat would know once and for all whether Lydia still held Alex in her spell. But what if he did believe her? Free of Lydia’s corrupting influence, might Alex come to love her someday?

  Her decision made, she nodded and stepped back. Away from his disturbing touch.

  “Kat?”

  “During the hunt, I kept myself apart from the rest of the ladies. When we stopped at the clearing, Lydia approached me. She did strike up a conversation, but she immediately proceeded to insult me and I responded in kind.” Kat colored, remembering her licentious boasts. “Lydia became incensed. When she spun her horse around to rejoin the ladies, she purposely snapped her reins against Lightning’s muzzle. I believe she intended my mare to bolt or throw me, thus humiliating me in the process. But I was expecting her to retaliate, and easily brought Lightning under control.”

  “And that was when you pushed her.”

  “Aye. I was furious. I can withstand her insults, but no one harms my horse!”

  Alex closed the gap between them. Kat bumped into the door behind her, stepping on something hard and flat.

  He leaned down, his breath an airy caress. “My fierce lady warrior,” Alex rasped, the words a compliment. Warmth unfurled inside her and spread its wings like a bird in flight. Her heart soared.

  His warm, sensual lips covered hers, and her mouth parted without hesitation. Their tongues entwined, exploring one another with agonizing thoroughness. Kisses soft and coaxing one moment, fierce the next. Alex clutched her tighter, a ragged groan torn from his throat.

  The brooch that closed the neck of her tunic must have fallen off, for his hand slipped through the opening. His fingers swept across the uppe
r curve of her breast, teasing and taunting her. She melted against the door, her reservations forgotten in the heat of the moment.

  Then his calloused hand cupped her breast. He squeezed the heavy weight, brushing his fingers over the distended tip. She moaned and arched up into his caress, pressing her enflamed nipple against his palm, craving relief. Alex groaned in satisfaction, his lips blazing a moist path down her bared throat—an offering freely given—then trailing lower still.

  He raised her breast up to his seeking mouth, while his other hand clutched her rear and pressed her against his hot, hard member. Kat sucked in a deep breath, waiting in anticipation, feeling each beat of her heart as he came ever closer, until…hot breath bathed her erect bud.

  Someone shoved on the door behind her.

  Kat nearly gasped, but Alex covered her lips with his fingers. “Shh.” He braced his hands on the door as it was jarred more forcefully. Angry grumbling came from outside, then retreating footsteps. Kat expelled her held breath.

  They had come so close to being discovered in a linen cupboard. How humiliating that would have been. Kat stepped away from Alex. Her hand shook when she brushed back a stray wisp of hair that came free from her veil. She had nearly succumbed to passion, but no matter how thrilling Alex’s lovemaking, she could not let herself get carried away.

  But a part of her that wanted to love and be loved in return wondered: What if Alex truly regretted his abandonment of her years ago? What if he did love her and wished to be a devoted husband? Could she let go of her dream so easily?

  “We should be away.” Alex opened the door to peer out.

  Light speared the interior of the room, illuminating the linens scattered across the floor. Amid them she found her brooch and pinned it to her bodice. When she turned to Alex at last, he held her dagger in his hand. Flipping it over, he handed it to her hilt first, his brow quirked in self-mockery. Her eyes wide, she took it and sheathed it inside her boot.

  Alex held his hand out to her palm up, his blue gaze expectant. She hesitated for one moment, before she placed her hand in his. Then without a word they exited the linen strewn cupboard together.

  After supper, Kat entered her apartments and made for the bedchamber, the glow from the fire lighting her way.

  “Care to share a cup of claret with me before you retire?”

  Kat turned to Alex, surprised. Usually she was long asleep before he retired to their chambers. He sat in the shadows at the table along the wall opposite the fire. A flagon of wine at his elbow, the chessboard was set up before him as though he had been playing someone.

  Kat crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. “What are you doing sitting in the dark, Alex? Surely you are not playing chess?”

  Alex shrugged. His chest muscles flexed beneath the linen sherte he wore, the fabric straining with the movement. “To keep my mind occupied while in prison, I played chess against myself. I did not have the implements to do so and instead visualized the moves. So I am accustomed to playing in the dark.”

  That explained his unerring perception in the pitch-black cupboard earlier today. But Kat was disturbed by his glib reference to his horrific ordeal. His eyes held hers, dark and compelling.

  Kat hesitated. She did not trust herself alone with Alex. The walls she had built around her heart were weakening, softening towards him, the pull of his magnetism a powerful force. But this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about his time in captivity. Every time she questioned him, he found a way to provoke her and avoid delving into his painful memories.

  “What happened to you, Alex? In prison, I mean. You say you want to be a true husband. But you refuse to confide in me.”

  Alex shoved his chair back, the legs scraping loudly, and stood up. The shrill sound echoed in his ears like the cries of the tortured souls who had lived and died Saracen captives. His memories were painfully near the surface this eve; he feared what he would reveal.

  But this time he could not ignore the hurt in her voice. “Why, Kat? Why is it so important for you to know what happened to me? Can you not leave well enough alone?”

  Her eyes held naught but compassion. “I’m your wife. I need to know what happened to you, Alex. Your experience in prison is a part of you I know naught about. And mayhap in the telling, I can share your pain and ease the burden of your memories.”

  Choked with emotion, Alex could not speak at first. He had betrayed this woman in the most despicable way, but she still found it in her heart to try to comfort him and ease his pain. He was grateful God had given him this second chance. And prayed Kat would forgive him in time.

  Clearing his throat, Alex began. She listened in grim silence while he told her of his attack and subsequent imprisonment. He left out any mention of Scarface. He told her how after he was released from the oubliette, he was one of many Christian slaves who by day drudged away hauling rock quarried from a defensive ditch around their prison fortress, and then at night were returned to their cells, until the next day dawned.

  “In order to prevent an uprising or escape, we were not allowed to speak our own tongues. We could only speak the Kipchak language of the ruling Mamluks. And, of course, few could speak it. Still, when I first arrived, I tried to explain to the guards that I was a knight and could pay ransom. But all attempts were met with floggings.

  “From dawn to dusk we carried the quarried building stones to various sites on the castle ward. There was always a wall to be repaired or a tower to be constructed. The work was relentless and grueling, and guards whipped any laborer who moved at a slack pace. Only the strongest survived the backbreaking toil and many just fell dead where they stood from heat and hunger.”

  He moved jerkily to stand before the fireplace and braced his clenched fist against the stone hood above. Images of dead men flashed across his vision as he stared into the flames.

  His voice low, tortured, he continued. “Overworked and underfed, the men died slow and torturous deaths, while their bodies withered away leaving naught but bone and little flesh.

  “Corpses were stripped naked and tossed one upon another in mass graves. The task carried out by prison burial details. No prisoner escaped this duty.”

  He looked down at his hands and rubbed them, trying to remove the stain of blood from the men he killed with his bare hands. “One day, another prisoner and I were burying two Frank prisoners in the village below the castle. My cellmate was gravely ill and the guard, Asad, kept swearing at him to pick up the pace.” Alex shook his head as images of that day flashed before his eyes. “Finally, he fell down, too feeble to get up and Asad—” his voice broke with emotion. “Asad jumped off his horse, ran him through with his sword, and shoved him in the grave with the other prisoners. It happened so fast. I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t—”

  There was no escape for Alex—Richard’s skeletal face, his sightless eyes stared up at him in reproach. Something brushed his shoulder. Alex shuddered, whirling around violently.

  “Kat.” She stood beside him, her wide-eyed gaze quickly shuttered. Alex exhaled. “I beg your pardon, you startled me.”

  He clutched his shaking hands behind his back.

  Then Kat did something totally unexpected. She took a hesitant step, closing the gap between them, and slid her arms around his back.

  Alex hesitated. Then he groaned and clutched her to him tightly. He buried his lips in her hair and breathed in her intoxicating jasmine scent. “Asad just laughed and ordered me to finish the burial. I didn’t even think. I smashed my shovel in his laughing face, grabbed his sword and killed the other guard before he could react. With both guards dead, and less than thirty miles from the nearest port, I seized the chance to escape. Wearing the robe and turban I stripped from Asad, I stole their horses and intended to ride for the coast. But my legs were fettered, so I snuck into the shop of the village blacksmith and cut the chains free. When I reached the port of Tortosa, I caught a Venetian merchant ship bound for Cypress.”

  “I am so so
rry,” her voice rumbled against his chest. “It must have been horrible. I cannot begin to imagine the suffering you endured.”

  The heat of her breath penetrated his sherte, warming his heart. Amazingly, he did feel better for the telling. Her strength and caring flowed into him, making his heart soar. Surely she could hear it thumping a wild staccato. Her hands ran up and down his back and he squeezed her tighter—she felt so perfect in his arms.

  He kissed the top of her head then leaned back a little. Placing his palms on either side of her face, he lifted her gaze up to his. His thumbs smoothed over her sculpted cheekbones, her golden skin tantalizingly soft. But it was her eyes, damp with unshed tears that held him spellbound.

  “Prithee, do not fret on my account. ’Tis over now, and I am exactly where I wish to be. In your arms.”

  Crystal tears clung to her dark lashes. Unable to resist, he bent down and kissed her eyes, her nose and cheeks. “You are beautiful beyond belief, Kat. And I do not mean just your outer beauty. Your kind heart and selflessness move me.”

  Alex stared at his wife, trying to read the thoughts going through her head. She looked breathtakingly beautiful standing there, shy and uncertain and nervous as a new bride. His groin tightened; his skin tingled. How was he going to keep his hands off of her?

  He needed her much more than she knew. He needed her spirit and her laughter and her compassion, the way she savored every experience to the fullest. But more importantly, once given, her love would at last bring him the peace he sought.

  Kat stepped back and patted her tunic skirts. Then she shocked him completely when she grabbed the bottom of her skirts, pulled them up her long legs, over her chest and off her head. Next, she pulled the jeweled snood out of her hair. Shaking her head, the black shimmering mass fell wildly about her shoulders. Just as boldly, she removed the last barrier, her chemise, and stood proudly naked before him except for her hose and slippers.