Captive Rose

by Miriam Minger

  Guy was gripped by a familiar sense of frustration. When, when would Leila ever give him her heart? At times he could swear she had already done so—when he kissed her, when they made love. But when she acted like this he doubted his own instincts.

  Enough! he berated himself. If he had to start over with her again, so be it. She meant everything to him. She was worth his every effort to capture her love. Let it begin anew with a kiss.

  “Very well. If you will not come to me,” he said, flinging aside the fur coverlet, “I will simply come to you.”

  “No!” Leila cried, rushing back to the foot of the bed. “You mustn’t stand on that leg. Not yet.”

  Guy held out his hand, his startling blue eyes searing into hers. “Then what will it be, my love?”

  Desire flooded her body, and Leila knew she had already succumbed to his challenge. There would be no hasty exit. Her heartrending plan would have to wait awhile longer. She only prayed that she would have the strength to leave him after …

  She took his hand almost before she knew what she was doing, her knees growing weak at the warm pressure of his palm against hers. He drew her slowly toward him, then his other hand was caressing her face as he looked deeply into her eyes.

  “Ah, Leila. I feared I would never touch you like this again. Never hold you—” He seemed to choke, his eyes misting. “God, woman, how I love you. Love you …”

  And I will always love you, Leila thought with an aching tightness in her breast. You will be forever in my heart, Guy de Warenne.

  She inclined her head, her gaze straying to his sensuous mouth, and offered no resistance as he tunneled his fingers in her hair and gently pulled her down to him. She felt a warm whisper of breath and then their lips met, fervently, passionately … his kiss a joyous reunion, hers a poignant parting.

  Yet she realized in that moment that this was what she wanted. This was how she wanted to say goodbye.

  With a wantonness born of her overwhelming desire for him, she pulled away slightly and ran the moist tip of her tongue boldly across his lips. She felt a rush of pleasure, knowing she had pleased him, when he groaned against her mouth.

  And, oh, how she wanted to please him! She wanted to share herself fully with him, to give him what was rightfully his, holding nothing back!

  Leila deepened their kiss, her tongue darting and teasing as she cradled his stubbled jaw in her hands. She was not surprised when his strong arms flew around her and he crushed her to his chest, or when he took the lead. He ravaged her with his mouth until she was breathless and dizzy, and only then did he tear his lips away.

  “This must go,” Guy demanded hoarsely, tugging impatiently at her tunic. He wanted her so badly he was prepared to shred the cloth from her body.

  “Then release me and it shall be done,” she murmured, her violet eyes large and liquid with passion. “And in a way I think you will enjoy, my lord.”

  Guy let her go reluctantly and as she seemed to glide away from him, he marveled at how little he understood her, this exquisite and baffling woman who was his wife.

  He could not comprehend how one moment she could be so reluctant and wary while in the next she was teasing him to madness. But he was certain he would understand in time. If she could desire him like this, then surely one day she would love him as wildly. They had a lifetime to learn to understand each other.

  Guy watched spellbound as Leila began to strip out of her clothing, not swiftly but in a languorous fashion that made his blood boil hotter with each passing second.

  After removing the silver girdle from around her slender waist, she caught the embroidered hem of her tunic and dragged it over her head, exposing a nearly transparent chainse that did little to hide her bewitching curves. With a motion that was enticingly slow, she began to pull the linen shift up over her body.

  Guy wet his lips as her shapely legs were revealed, slim calves and sleek white thighs, and he caught his breath when her ebony woman’s hair came into view. The chainse drifted like a gossamer mist over a torso that was wondrous in its perfection, over upturned breasts with hardened, rosy nipples that seemed to plead for his touch.

  Guy was in agony by the time she dropped the flimsy garment to the floor to stand naked before him. He began to work at the drawstring on his braies, the only thing he was wearing.

  “No, my lord. Wait,” Leila bade him when she saw his intent.

  She could tell he was aroused from the hungry way he was looking at her and the provocative swelling beneath his short trousers, but she wasn’t finished yet. She loosened her thick braid with trembling fingers. She was aroused herself just from the magnificent sight of him. With a light toss of her head, her long silken tresses rippled around her body like a crimped veil. She knew how much he loved her hair.

  Leila approached the bed slowly, giving herself time to admire his masculine beauty, which earlier she had done her best to ignore. She never ceased to be amazed by the massive breadth of his shoulders or the hard muscles which bound him; she ached to feel their rippling strength beneath her fingers once more. “Let me, my lord,” she insisted when she finally reached the bed.

  Guy did not protest when she pushed his hands away from the drawstring at his waist and finished untying it for him. Then she began to pull his braies from his hips; he helped her by lifting his buttocks. She inhaled softly when his manhood sprang free, but she concentrated for the moment on sliding the trousers carefully from his legs.

  “You may sit against those pillows as you are now,” Leila admonished him gently, climbing onto the bed as she tossed away his braies, “or you may lie on your back. But nothing else because of your wound.” When he did not move, his eyes devouring her, she straddled his hips gracefully and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. She gasped when he took an aroused nipple into his mouth, but she shook her head and pushed him back. “No, my lord. Allow me to pleasure you.”

  She leaned toward him and kissed him deeply then, her heart thudding painfully. It was hard to forget that everything she was doing would be for the last time, but she made a brave attempt. She didn’t want him to sense that anything was wrong.

  As her lips strayed from his mouth to his throat, her splayed fingers glided down his hard, ridged stomach. She found what she was seeking, for his smooth shaft seemed to jump into her hand. When she caressed away the wetness already on its tip with her thumb, he moaned softly.

  “Leila, no. I don’t think I can bear—”

  “Shhh,” she whispered, leaving a trail of tender kisses along his scarred right shoulder.

  Tears stung her eyes as memories crowded in upon her, but she willed them away. She edged her knees backward as she forged a passionate path down his furred chest, her racing senses reveling in the familiar taste of his skin and the musky, male scent of him.

  Her tongue dipped into his navel and he groaned, his hips arching slightly. She licked and nipped her way down the dark line of his hair which she found so erotic and was amazed to recall that she had once considered body hair offensive.

  Even more seductive was the nest of brown curls between his legs. She enmeshed her fingers in them, her nails lightly grazing the thick base of his shaft. Guy arched again, more wildly this time, but it was nothing to when she kissed him up and down the silken length. He cried out her name, rearing and groaning as she took him fully into her mouth. Using her lips, tongue, and even her eyelashes, she plied him with all the special techniques she had been taught.

  Leila derived immense satisfaction from his enjoyment and she intensified her caresses, encircling him with both hands and slowly pumping. She could taste him upon her tongue, his skin slippery wet, and she thought fleetingly of the many nights when his mouth had explored the sensitive recesses of her body until she had screamed with ecstasy. She knew he was close to climax, but she didn’t want him to spurt his seed just yet. She longed to feel him deep inside her body one last time.

  Leila raised her head just as Guy was reaching for her. His
eyes were stormy with passion as he dragged her toward him, his mouth capturing hers. She gasped when he lifted her hips and impaled her upon his magnificent erection, and she was not surprised that she was slick and ready for him. His pleasure had already aroused her beyond measure.

  “Now it’s my turn, my beautiful, beautiful love,” Guy whispered jaggedly against her lips. Holding her buttocks, he drove upward until she was full of him, his throbbing strength and power sheathed in her body’s tight embrace.

  Lifting her head, Leila clutched wildly at the pillows, her fingers digging into them as Guy effortlessly slid her back and forth on top of him in rhythm with his demanding thrusts.

  Each time she moved forward, his tongue was a flicking flame at her breasts, and she whimpered incoherently at the delicious combination. It was all sweetness and fire and she closed her eyes tightly, moaning when the sensations grew too hot, too intense …

  “Hold me, Guy!” she cried, hovering at the brink of rapture for the barest instant until she felt him shudder and explode deep within her, his release igniting her bliss. With lips fused and breaths merging, together they plummeted headlong into that incredible oblivion.

  Long moments later, Leila very slowly relaxed her grip on the pillows.

  Utterly sated, her head resting upon his shoulder and her body still trembling with echoes of their passion, she could see nothing through the tangled web of hair covering her face. But in one movement, Guy swept it from her cheek and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

  “Now I know I am yet alive and this is not a dream,” he whispered, tracing the soft curve of her cheekbone.

  Leila could have cried out aloud as her false sense of peace and contentment shattered into sharp, glittering shards, his words bringing harsh reality crashing in around her.

  And with it came pain. Terrible, heart-wrenching pain. She was being torn in two, her desire to tell him how dearly she loved him threatening to overwhelm her decision to leave. She knew that if she did not free herself from his arms quickly, her resolve would vanish. Reluctantly she began to pull away, but Guy only tightened his embrace.

  “Why must you hasten from me, my love?” he asked, kissing the tip of her nose. “We have the whole afternoon—”

  She silenced him with a finger to his lips and adopted her most physicianlike tone, though it was all she could do to keep her voice steady. “No, my lord. You must rest now. It is important that you regain your strength, for I doubt you wish to stay abed for more than a week.”

  “Indeed I do not.” He loosened his hold a little, then seemed to reconsider. His hands moved caressingly up and down her slender back. “Stay with me awhile longer, Leila.”

  She shivered at his touch, recklessly tempted to linger. Somehow she managed to answer convincingly, “I cannot. I may have patients waiting for me in the hospital.”

  Guy frowned, but she knew it was feigned from the amusement lighting his eyes. “I can see now that I have a rival for your attentions, my lady.” He squeezed her bottom playfully, then suddenly sobered. “If it makes you happy, I suppose I can bear it. We will have tonight.”

  “Yes,” she lied, her heart breaking. “We will have tonight.”

  Forcing a small smile, she lifted herself from him and climbed from the bed. She felt his gaze upon her as she dressed hurriedly, and was grateful for the room’s darkness so he wouldn’t see how her hands were shaking. She took another moment to twist her hair into a loose braid, tying off the end with a ribbon as she walked to the door.

  “You are forgetting something, my love.”

  Leila spun, her breath catching as she met his eyes. Guy smiled at her roguishly. “I would have a parting kiss. Something to last me until you return.”

  Walking those few steps back to the bed was the hardest task she had ever undertaken. His warm lips on hers rocked her completely. After covering him to the waist with the fur blanket, she hurried from the room without a backward glance, the door shutting behind her with awful finality.

  Don’t think of it now, Leila told herself fiercely, running down the stairs. There will be plenty of time for tears later. You must think only of your escape.

  When she stepped outside the keep, she saw that the sky had grown dark, the heavy clouds which masked the sun portending a rainstorm. Wrapping her cloak tightly about her and donning the fur-trimmed hood against the chill wind, she hurried toward the hospital.

  She was relieved to see that there were still some wagons and two-wheeled carts lined up in front of the grain storehouse, and a group of de Warenne tenants were gathered just outside the open double doors. It was sowing season for wheat and rye, and an everyday occurrence for several weeks now to see wagons laden with sacks of seed rumbling through the gates. If she managed to climb into one of the wagons without anyone noticing her, she might be thus able to leave the castle.

  As Leila passed the large timbered building, her plan began to look easier than she had imagined. She spied two loaded wagons pulled up along the side wall which faced the adjacent storehouse. Even better, they were both covered with canvas—no doubt as a precaution against the threatening storm—and situated in such a way that they were protected from the view of anyone crossing the bailey or the castle guards strolling along the battlements.

  Surmising that the drivers were still laughing and talking with the tenants whose wagons were yet to be filled with grain, Leila seized her chance.

  Her heart thumping nervously, she cut in between the two storehouses and waited an interminable moment with her back pressed up against the logged wall to see if she was being followed. When boisterous laughter carried to her from the front of the building, she knew none of the tenants had seen her. She rushed to the nearest wagon and was just about to flip aside the canvas when three little boys dashed around the comer, playing a merry game of chase. Her hands fell, and she whirled around when she spied Nicholas at the lead.

  “Lady Leila!”

  She groaned inwardly at his cry of greeting, wondering what she was going to say to him as the boys came to a breathless halt in front of her, almost stumbling over one another. Eyeing her curiously, Nicholas swiped an errant lock of blond hair from his flushed forehead.

  “I—I thought you were napping,” she began lamely.

  Nicholas shrugged. “I woke up.” He glanced at the ground, then back at her. “Did you lose something? We could help you find it.” He twisted to look at his friends. “Right?” The two boys bobbed their heads eagerly.

  “Ah, no,” she replied uncomfortably, hating the thought that she must lie to him. “I didn’t lose anything. I was just going to peek under this canvas to see what was inside the wagon.”

  Nicholas laughed as if she’d said something silly. “It’s just seeds. Papa’s tenants are going to plant them in the fields.”

  “Ooohhh.” She smiled self-mockingly. “All that curiosity just for seeds. Well, I guess I’ll just go on to the hospital—”

  “We’ll walk you there!” Nicholas blurted, “I want to show my friends the bandages I’ve made.”

  “No, no, another time, Nicholas,” Leila said, a hard lump in her throat. “The hospital is untidy from all the visitors who came to see your papa the past few days. I’m just going to clean it up.” As his face fell, she chucked him gently under the chin. “How about tomorrow morning? You can bring your friends and we’ll all make more bandages. Would you like that?”

  As he brightened, Leila felt even more wretched.

  “Good.” She bent and whispered in his ear. “If you start running right now, Nicholas, you’ll get a good lead on them and they’ll never catch you.”

  He nodded, throwing his arms around her neck in a fierce hug, then just as quickly he released her and took off at a run toward the back of the storehouse. Startled, the two boys followed him, shouting his name and crying “No fair!” In an instant, all three had disappeared around the corner.

  Heartsick, Leila wasted no more time. She threw back the canvas and hoisted herse
lf over the side of the wagon. Taking a last deep breath of fresh air, she dragged the canvas back into place just as thunder crackled high overhead.

  A light rain began to pelt the covering and the next thing she knew, a man’s voice shouted out, “We’ll have to leave now if we’re going to beat the worst of this storm.”

  “Aye, let’s be off.”

  Huddled between two large sacks of grain, Leila let her tears fall as the driver’s seat creaked and the wagon lurched into motion.

  ***

  It couldn’t have been more than a half hour later when the wagon came to a final stop.

  Wiping her damp face with a fold of her cloak, Leila discerned that they must be in some kind of shelter, for the rain had ceased to batter the canvas and she could hear the two horses being unhitched. Fearfully she wondered if the tenant might unload the wagon, but, to her relief, she guessed he had decided not to when a door opened and closed, and the building grew quiet. No doubt a warm fire and a good hot meal awaited him.

  She remained very still for a few more minutes just to make sure he wasn’t coming back, then she could stand the close confines and stuffy air no longer. She cautiously drew back the canvas and peered above the rim of the wagon.

  To her surprise and good fortune, she found herself in a stable. And here she had thought she would have to walk all the way to her brother’s castle!

  She clambered over the side, wrenching her cloak free when it snagged on a nail. She immediately went to the nearest stall and in great haste bridled and saddled the roan palfrey she found there. She had no idea when the tenant might return.

  She led the nickering animal to the stable door, glad for the storm raging outside. She hoped the rumbling thunder and whistling wind would mask the horse’s hoofbeats and conceal her furtive escape.

  As Leila pushed open the door, cold rain lashed her face. Squinting against it, she mounted and nudged the now agitated palfrey into a trot. The wind whipped the hood from her head, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she reach her brother’s castle before sunset. She did not want to spend the night wandering blind in the woods.