Lords of the Kingdom

by Le Veque, Kathryn

Hope answered honestly. “I know little when it comes to carrying a babe though I do know of a servant in my uncle’s home who fainted often when she was with child.”

  “And all went well with her?”

  “She delivered a fine healthy boy,” Hope told him with a confident smile.

  “You doubt my words, husband?” Faith said on a laugh.

  Rath stepped forward. “Agnes here admits that she suffers from fainting spells when with child.”

  Faith laughed again. “They all try to soothe the Devil.”

  “The Devil will be soothed when his wife is safely tucked in bed for the remainder of the day,” Eric informed her, his hands slipping beneath her to gently scoop her up into his arms.

  Faith looked ready to protest but one look in her husband’s eyes warned her it would do no good, that he would have his way. She wisely remained silent and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Rath spoke up. “If there is anything Lady Faith needs.”

  “Thank you,” Eric said and turned, then walked to their cottage.

  Colin stood and held his hand out to Hope.

  She was hesitant to take it, hesitant to retire to the small cottage with him. At the moment she felt vulnerable. She felt the need to melt into the strength and comfort of his arms. And if she allowed her guard to drop, what would be the consequences?

  “Come,” Colin coaxed softly. “You could use some rest yourself.”

  His tender words tempted and she attempted to convince herself she could handle time alone with him. There was no problem. She was strong. She would not surrender.

  She gave him her hand and his long lean fingers wrapped firmly around hers, and she knew as the warmth of him drifted lazily up her arm that she had made a mistake.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Colin took her into his arms as soon as the cottage door closed behind them.

  She rested her face on his chest, heard the reassuring beat of his heart and began to cry. They were soft, silent tears, but necessary ones. It was time to release her emotions and face the fact that her heart was breaking.

  “It is all right,” he said quietly, holding her tightly. “Everything is all right, Hope.”

  But it was not all right. Nothing was right. She loved him with an intensity that frightened her. She did not think it was possible to feel such a deeply rooted emotion for someone. To care so very much for them that you would be willing to walk away if it meant their happiness. How could she confine him to a marriage to a woman he did not love? It was not fair to him and not fair to her.

  She attempted to pull away but he would not have it. “Nothing is right,” she mumbled against his chest.

  He held her tightly, refusing to let her go. “Nay, Hope, all is right.”

  “You do not understand.”

  “I understand more than you think.”

  She struggled in his arms and he reluctantly gave her her freedom. “If you truly understood you would not force this marriage.” She pressed at her throbbing temples. “And I grow tired of going round and round and round over this issue. There is no more to be said or discussed. I wish to hear not another word, I but wish this confinement over and done so that I may—”

  She stopped suddenly, slowly shaking her head.

  His voice turned stern. “Do you have plans you have failed to tell me about?”

  She raised defiant eyes to him, though he could see pain in them.

  “I have naught to say.” Her hand went once again to her temple.

  “Your head aches you.” He softened his tone. “You need to rest.”

  Her eyes lost their blaze and her head drooped as if the effort was too much to hold it up. “What good will rest do me? I will only wake to face it all again.”

  He walked over to her and moved her hand away from her head to replace it with his own. He pressed a firm thumb to her temple and begin to stroke in slow circular motions, fanning out to cover a wider area.

  She moaned softly and once again dropped her head to his chest.

  “Rest clears the mind,” he whispered near her ear. “Perhaps you will wake with a clearer vision of things to be.”

  “I know what must be.”

  “You think what will be.”

  “I will not argue,” Hope murmured.

  “Nor will I,” he said and gently scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. He followed her down, stretching out beside her and keeping his arms tucked protectively around her.

  “I can take care of myself,” Hope insisted, yawning.

  “So you have attempted to prove on more than one occasion.”

  “I have survived, have I not?”

  He hugged her tightly. “Aye, and glad I am for it.”

  “Then I have no need of your protection.”

  “I have need to protect you.”

  “Only because you think I am to be your wife.”

  He began to stroke her back and at first she tensed but as he continued she began to relax. “Not so. I felt the need to protect you from the first time we met.”

  “You felt the need to protect Harold.”

  “One and the same.”

  Hope laughed softly against his chest. “With your vast experience, I assumed you would know the difference.”

  His hand gradually and intentionally made its way down over her backside to give it a playful squeeze. “I definitely know the difference.”

  Why did his touch feel so good? Why could she not grow annoyed at his touch? Why instead did she hunger for it? Because you love him, you fool, she reminded herself.

  His hand moved up to rest at her waist. “You do not mind my touch, do you?”

  She almost laughed. He had to have read her thoughts, but then, does not a good lover know what a woman wishes, and did not he himself tell her that he knew what women wanted and gave it to them?

  “What if I told you that I did?”

  He rested his mouth near her ear so that he could whisper. “I would say you are being untruthful to yourself.”

  “Nay, I am being truthful with myself for I would not lie and say that I mind your touch, for I very much enjoy it. I mind you touching me for I feel it inappropriate since no marriage vows will ever be exchanged.”

  His fingers caught her chin and he turned her face away from his chest and up so that her eyes would meet his. “Your honor looks to have been compromised more than once—”

  She attempted to argue the truth, but he would have none of it. He silenced her with a finger to her lips.

  “It matters not whether your honor was damaged. It only matters how it appears to others.”

  “That is not fair.”

  “Fair or not, it is the way of things.”

  Hope continued to disagree. “I need not marry. I will take myself to the convent.”

  He stopped himself from laughing. “I will come get you.

  She looked indignantly at him. “You cannot.”

  A laugh spilled out. “Aye, Hope, I can and I will.”

  She opened her mouth to continue her protest and he laughed, shook his head, and whispered, “So stubborn.” He then closed his mouth over hers.

  She was too shocked to react immediately and that moment of hesitation cost her dearly. He took command of her senses and like a fool she did not deny him. She did not want to. Not when his kiss felt as hungry for her as she did for him.

  It was not his usual gentle, loving kiss, but one filled with a passion he himself found hard to ignore or deny. It was a kiss born of urgency and demand and filled with an unrelenting need.

  She responded to that need, her arms wrapping around him and her own mouth pursuing him with a fervor she could not deny.

  His body moved against hers, his hand running down her back to cup her backside and draw her closer to him. His tempo intoxicated, the rhythm all too familiar, even to one so inexperienced.

  She rode the waves of pleasure that rushed over her body and yearned for more. His hands roamed intimatel
y over her and his lips left hers to nuzzle at her neck and send ripples of shivers running down the length of her.

  She was alive with passion and it grabbed her with an intensity that suddenly frightened. Her eyes flew open, her body tensed and she realized for a terrifying moment that she wanted, ached to surrender to this man she loved.

  Sanity warned her of the consequences. If she gave herself to him now she would have no other choice but to exchange vows with him. Her destiny would be sealed forever.

  Forever mine.

  He wished for a woman whom he could love and call forever his. She was not that woman. The thought tore at her heart and sent her into action. She pulled away from him and ran for the door.

  “There is nowhere to run this time, Hope.”

  Her hand lay on the door latch and she rested her forehead against the aged wood. He was right. There was no place for her to run or hide. The idea that she was trapped with no chance of escape, no way of dictating her own freedom, weighed heavily upon her and she pressed her palms to the door and choked back her tears.

  She sobbed. Her frustration needed release and no amount of fighting would prevent her tears.

  His arm slipped suddenly around her waist and he leaned in against her, though allowing her to remain as she stood. He simply joined with her.

  “Stop fighting what you feel,” he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.

  “I cannot,” she admitted on a hushed breath, almost afraid to confess the truth.

  “It is done,” he said firmly and gave her waist a gentle squeeze. “You are mine.”

  Forever mine.

  She shook off the words that seemed forever to haunt her.

  “Deny that you want me and I will leave you alone,” he said, offering her a way out. But a whisper warned her, “Be truthful.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks and she was angry with herself for allowing her emotions to rule when she needed to deal reasonably with the matter, but then love was far from reasonable.

  What good would denying the truth do her or him? What good was her stubbornness doing her? It but delayed the inevitable. She waged a senseless battle, one that would never taste victory. But would not victory leave a bitter taste in her mouth? She loved him and he was willing to wed her.

  What foolishness did she mean in denying the very thing she wanted? Perhaps she could love him enough for them both. Perhaps love was a foolish fancy that she should forget. Perhaps she should surrender her emotions and see where they took her.

  Perhaps she should simply love and be done with it.

  She turned to face him, tears glistening in her damp eyes, and before she brought her mouth to his she whispered, “I want you.”

  Her kiss caught Colin off guard. He had not expected her to take charge of the situation. And he did not expect the torrent of emotions that poured out of her. She felt to him as if her body was on fire with desire and that it raged out of control. The sinful thought fired his own passion, sending it soaring. Suddenly all sanity escaped him and he wanted nothing but to strip her naked and take her with a primitive intensity.

  He struggled with the burning urge and attempted to calm her kiss that had turned to a hungry demand. “Easy, easy.” He attempted to soothe, his hands stroking her back.

  She did not want reason or softness. That he gave to every woman he was with. She wanted the unleashed passion he guarded so closely. She wanted him to lose control and make love to her like he did to no other woman.

  With her own desire raging through her and the love she harbored so deeply in her heart for him, it was easy to be bold. She slipped her hand down between his legs and cupped him, laughing softly against his mouth as she kissed him and said, “I cannot wait to feel the strength of you inside me.”

  Her hand closed more tightly around him and he thought he would explode right then and there. But he forced control upon himself, forced reason to prevail, forced himself to take a deep breath.

  She plunged her tongue into his mouth and he gasped in shock, his body turning taut. She laughed again as she toyed with him, her tongue darting playfully and daring him to come join her. “I love the taste of you.”

  His breath caught again and he did not think it possible to grow any harder than he already was. He was wrong. He bulged with an ache that was painful and he knew that if he did not gain control soon he would lose his and take her as he had never taken a woman before.

  Hope felt him fight himself and the thought soared her own confidence and desire. She wanted him not to think, only react. She wanted no planned touches or tender kisses that would lead to a loving performance. She wanted his emotions free and uninhibited so that he could love her with equal intensity.

  Her mouth moved to his neck and her sensuous bites caused shivers to rush over him. Her hand continued to torment him and he tried to free himself and take charge. He only managed to work his way back up against the door, trapping himself.

  “Hope,” he said on a groan, his hands resting on her shoulders to attempt to ease her off him.

  She acted as if she did not hear him and continued her seduction.

  And he realized she was seducing him. This innocent, pint-sized woman had taken control and within minutes made him desire her like he had never desired anyone in his life.

  He should be irritated by her brashness, but that thought took flight as quickly as it had entered his mind. His irritation was not with her but with himself for he did not wish to fight her. And he damned well did not wish to fight the raging feelings she evoked in him. And rage they did.

  “Hope,” he tried one more time and again she ignored him.

  Her small hand inflicted a torrent of pleasure and her innocent and honest words seduced him even more.

  “I never knew a man could feel so good.”

  Her caresses and words left him speechless, not a common affliction for him to suffer.

  She nibbled at his throat and up along his ear to whisper, “I want us both naked.”

  With that she went to work on his tunic and had it off him in seconds, hastily discarding it aside. Her hands instantly went for his hard chest, her playful fingers causing tingles to rush over him. Her fingertips explored every inch of flesh as if she wished to know all of him.

  He groaned when she squeezed his nipples and laughed softly while bringing her mouth down upon one hard nub. He braced himself against the wooden door, his breath catching and his hands fisting at his sides. He did not trust himself. He was close to losing all control and he feared the consequences if he did.

  Her tongue enjoyed him, relishing the taste of him. And like a newborn who could not suckle enough, Hope feasted.

  “Damn,” he mumbled beneath a moan that rumbled low in his throat. He never knew such blatant desire. It was like a red hot liquid that ran through him, ready to explode and devour. It seeped through his flesh and rushed over him in a misty perspiration.

  Colin realized that Hope had moved past seduction into a state of uncontrolled passion. She gave no thought to her actions; her emotions ruled and she let them take her where they wished to go.

  Her mouth drifted down over his midriff, tasting every damp morsel of him, and she stopped to nibble at the more enticing places.

  He thought to stop her; at least he gave it brief consideration, very brief. He was too lost in a swell of passion to think rationally. All sanity eluded him; he thought he had sunk into the very depths of seductive madness, and he did not care.

  The thought startled him, but then Hope did something that further shocked him and sent him to the edge. Her mouth drifted down his belly to rest over the bulge in his stockings. She licked at the soft wool with a gentleness that all but begged for more.

  His ache turned painful and he shut his eyes against the intense and maddening pleasure. He should do something. He should take control, but all he wanted to do was surrender.

  She lingered over the new and wonderful sensations that ran through her body as she lost herself in th
e sweetness of her own desires.

  She slowly ran her hands up and down his legs, her fingertips lingering on the inside of his thighs while her tongue continued to seek and give pleasure.

  He braced his head back against the door, squeezed his eyes tight and moaned loudly when she caught the tip of him with her teeth.

  The tender bite brought him near to exploding and the only thought he had was that he wished her to do it again. And she did.

  His moan echoed in the silence.

  She savored the erotic sensations that made her own body throb and ache for fulfillment, and the heat that had tortured her flesh suddenly became unbearable. She moved away from him briefly, pulled off her tunic and undergarment and with a fast and slightly rough intimate nibble at him, she began to lazily crawl up the length of him.

  His mind would not reason properly. He could barely make it function and when her small breasts rubbed against his belly he knew without a doubt that sanity had completely deserted him.

  She worked her way up his chest, caressing his sensitive flesh with her small hardened nipples. That she brought them both pleasure was obvious from the moans that escaped her lips and the groans that rumbled from his.

  Her fingers reached up to run through his hair, grabbing a tight hold and forcing his mouth down to meet her hungry one. They took hold of each other, their lips locking in a demanding kiss. His arms came around her, forcing her up firmly against him. And she met his body with an urgency she did not fight, pressing her hips into him and caressing his desire with her own intimate heat.

  They were locked in intimate combat, too senseless to pay heed to reason, too lost to their shared passion to care. They shared one basic, primitive instinct.

  They had to mate.

  It was a necessity.

  Nothing else mattered.

  Their touch turned frantic, their kisses rough, and their passion surged beyond control. They fed off each other, fueling their already tumultuous desires.

  She moved against him with a need to which he instantly understood and responded. Their bodies took on a rhythm of their own and she moaned with a building passion that consumed her.

  “I want you,” she cried against his mouth as she roughly stole a frantic kiss from him.