Irresistible Knight

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Irresistible Knight Page 15

by Tierney O'Malley


  “Because you must. And you don't have shoes to wear.”

  “Kirsten offered to lend me her shoes.”

  “And I said no.”

  Someone snorted. He heard a chuckle and shuffling. They had an audience, he knew, but didn't care.

  Bors met Taylor stare for stare. Pink tinged heightened the color of her cheeks. She was heaving while chewing her lips. He wondered what was going on in her pretty head.

  “Taylor, I think it's best if you just listen to me.”

  “Or what? You'll squash me like the vermin you catch?”

  “Vermin?” Gawain asked.

  “Crooks could be called vermin,” Edmund answered.

  Bors ignored everyone. His siblings knew better than to blab about what he did for a living. He kept his gaze on Taylor. “Taylor, if you refuse to listen, I'll tie you to a chair.” Or my bed. “You don't want that, babe.” Oh, yeah, I bet you would.

  “Bors, don't be obtuse.” Kirsten pinched his arm.

  “I'm not. Taylor is being difficult.”

  “Me? Are you always this highhanded?”

  “Only with you,” Gawain answered, cutting the thick tension in the air. “Now, what is Taylor talking about vermin?”

  Bors looked at Gawain. He narrowed his eyes, hoping his brother would get the message. “Bro, shut the fuck up.” He shoved him none too gently.

  Gawain just laughed, shaking his head.

  The singer announced it was time for Katherine and Arthur to take the dance floor, saving Bors from having to explain about the damn vermin. He made a mental note to talk to his siblings about it.

  The noise died down. The band began to play and the singer crooned a familiar song of Nat King Cole's version of Unforgettable. Bors watched as his father led his mother onto the dance floor that only this morning was their football ground. His parents danced while the stars twinkled and the moon smiled. It was if it was just the two of them in the world.

  It could be the aura or the love that oozed from her parents that had Bors taking Taylor's hand. Gently, he leaned her back against him. Taylor didn't resist. Somehow that made him smile. He rested his chin on top of her head and watched his parents with admiration.

  But with Taylor in his arms, all he could think about was her vanilla scented skin, the heat of her body, her round bottom pressed just below his groin. God, he wanted to dip his head and kiss her exposed shoulder and every other part of her body. He wanted to make love to her.

  He stirred. Bors buried his nose in her hair, trying to think of something else other than the soft body in front of him. He couldn't see Taylor's face, but he could tell the way her shoulders shook that she was laughing. She felt him. He wrapped one arm above her breast and locked the other one around her waist, trapping her inside his embrace. She responded by moving her ass.

  A bold move for a virgin, he thought. “Minx. You're not helping. It'll be my turn to dance with Mom soon,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Serves you right.”

  Bors smiled. If they were alone, she'd be flat on her back right now. “You'll pay.”

  Taylor turned her head and looked at him. With a twinkle in her eyes, she asked, “Promise?”

  Bors chuckled, then kissed Taylor's temple. He loved to banter with her and hold her like this. Maybe forever.

  Dream on, Bors.

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  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  She'd never seen anything like it. The Knight boys, all tall with commanding presence, and who could demand instant obedience with their stare, had held their mother the way one would a soft flower. It was touching and so sweet. By the time Katherine danced with Gawain, her cheeks were wet, and her nose was red from constant wiping. Taylor noticed the women, especially, were crying, too.

  The display of affection, respect, and warmth filtered her thoughts back to the days when her mother used to hold her in her arms, dance and sing with her. The memory brought a dull ache in her chest. Her mom was a gentle loving mother. Sadly, fate didn't give them a chance to spend more years together.

  The music, voices, dishes, and everything else around her began to fade as the memory of her mother came back. She considered finding a spot where she could be alone when Edmund touched her elbow, bringing her back to the cheerful party.

  “Kirsten is calling you.”

  “What? Oh, It's my turn.”

  “To dance?”

  “To play my violin. God, I'm nervous. I've been playing for years. Don't know why I'd be nervous now.”

  “They won't bite. The Knights are not as bad as they appear to be.”

  “I kinda got that. Maybe we'll get to dance later?”

  Edmund glanced at Bors while he shuffled his footing. “Maybe.”

  “He won't bite.” She parroted Edmund's words. “I think he's all bluster.”

  “The Knights are protective of their women, Taylor.”

  “I see that, too. But you see, I'm not Bors's woman.”

  The look Edmund gave her showed he believed differently. She was saved from explaining when Kirsten waved at her, smiling, shining like a star in her strapless dress.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest today who agreed to play for us. I had to bribe her with Julie's signed books to say yes. Okay, without further ado, I give you the very beautiful Miss Taylor Jean.”

  Taylor walked toward the makeshift platform, berating herself for forgetting she said yes to Kirsten. Dang it! She liked to condition her mind and body before playing.

  Since she had already tuned her violin, she would just have to do her scales quickly, then play her piece, and she'd be done. Reaching behind a speaker where she hid her open case, she reached for the violin without looking at the audience, who seemed to run out of anything to say.

  Why are they so quiet?

  Tuning done, Taylor faced the audience. Among the small crowd, she spotted Bors standing beside an older man who also carried himself with self-confidence as if he possessed something powerful that nobody knew about. Bors, just like the others, stared at her intently. God, those blue eyes, even at a distance, could make her heart skip a beat. Tucking her violin underneath her arm, she caught Katherine's eyes, still wet from tears and brilliant with happiness.

  Taking a deep breath, she stood in front of the microphone. “Thank you, Kirsten, for this opportunity to play for a beautiful and well-loved mother. Everyone can see what a great wife and mom you've been, Katherine. I wish you joy, cheer, and endless love. Happy birthday. I'll be playing Lover's Waltz by Jay Ungar. This one's for you.”

  She shook her hand, holding the bow, and focused her eyes on a tiny light in front of her. The moment her bow touched the strings, she became one with her violin. In her mind, she could see each note come to life each time she struck them. They traveled from the violin to her ears and all the way to her heart. It was as if she plucked them from the music sheet like apples from a tree. Taylor closed her eyes and let the music float around her, driving all her worries, troubles, and pain away. At that moment, nothing mattered but the beauty of the composition.

  When she hit the last note, the world gradually penetrated her concentration, like waking up from a dream. She opened her eyes and smiled at the crowd clapping, smiling at her. She noticed, too, that they were all in pairs, which meant that they danced while she played. All except for one standing directly in front of her, his gaze unwavering, as he continued to stare. Bors.

  “Bravo!” Gawain yelled.

  Someone whistled, eliciting laughter from the crowd. The singer thanked Taylor, then joked that he and his band must work harder because Taylor just raised the bar. Everyone laughed. Bors didn't. What the heck was wrong with him? He was looking as if he just had seen someone he'd been looking for and didn't want to blink for fear of losing her.

  The thought, like her music, brought a wonderful and heart stopping feeling of euphoria. For some insane reason, this time she didn't think Bors's stare was rude. The d
ay she met him at the clinic, he accused her of dreaming about the two of them naked. She wondered if he was doing it now. She smiled at the thought and broke their eye contact.

  When she left the stage with her violin, she headed toward Katherine. The older woman opened her arms for an embrace. Taylor hugged her and again wished Katherine a happy birthday. She talked to the other guests who expressed their wishes, including the man she saw earlier standing beside Bors.

  As soon as she found the chance, Taylor went into the partly lit kitchen and placed her violin case on top of the counter. Instinct told her to turn around. Bors followed her and slowly came toward her. He looked at her and then she caught his unspoken intention. He would kiss her.

  Her skin prickled with pleasure at the thought. The thudding of her heart drowned out the noise from the band and the guests. Her experience maybe limited, but she could see the invincible web of attraction between them building.

  When Bors reached her, he cupped her face with both hands, leaned down, and took her mouth with savage intensity. His kiss was hard and demanded a response. She replied, meeting his tongue with hers. The action elicited a low moan from Bors. She wrapped her arms inside his jacket and around his back, feeling the muscles beneath her palms. They continued to kiss. It was wet, erotic, and dreamily intimate.

  Bors wrapped one arm around her waist and brought her to him. Their bodies fused, his hard cock pressed against her pubic mound, her unrestrained instinct had her squirming and seeking more pressure from him. Masculine heat oozed even through his clothes. Bors felt hot! Her skin sizzled deliciously. She wanted more of his warmth, of his hard body. Most of all, she wanted the ache deep in between her legs answered.

  Bors tightened his hold, but it wasn't enough. She longed to feel his skin, his mouth on her breasts. Burning with desire, she returned Bors's kisses with an equal passion. He groaned in her mouth.

  They kissed hungrily. Bors lifted his mouth a fraction from hers, and breathed, “You're beautiful and played beautifully. I thought an angel came down from heaven to play for us.”

  “I agree. I think everyone dancing fell in love with each other.”

  Taylor let out her signature squeak and buried her face on his shirt.

  “Dammit, Gawain. Do you have to be here, too?” Bors snarled.

  “Hey, knuckle-butt. I'm here first, saying goodbye to my toes.”

  “Why are you saying goodbye to your toes?”

  “Because they're dead and will have to be amputated. Teta stepped on them a gazillion times. Did you see her clogs? Taylor came in just as I was saying farewell to my little piggy. Sorry, Taylor. Didn't mean to witness the smooch.”

  “It's all right, Gawain.”

  Bors eased his hold on Taylor's waist, but didn't let go, still locked in an intimate embrace. Taylor could feel his heart thumping wildly against his chest.

  “Can you leave now?”

  Gawain ignored Bors totally. “You know I was here before, eating my chicken when Julie and Tristan started making out. That was before they became an item. Now look, lovely Julie is huge with my nephew. Guess I'm just always at the right place at the right time. Except for the time when I caught Mom and Dad in a passionate embrace. That was awkward.”

  Taylor laughed. She could almost imagine Gawain's reaction, stumbling in on his parents locked lips. “How do you know that you're having a nephew?” Taylor smiled at Gawain, who winked at her in return.

  “I don't, but we all want one. Except for Kirsten. She wants a niece to add more girls in the family. Anyway, go ahead, guys. Don't mind me.”

  “How about you leave before I rearrange your face, bro?”

  Gawain snorted. “You never learn, do you, Bors? Last time you were the one that screamed like a baby pig when I relocated your bones. Want to squeal again?”

  “Ungrateful ass. I broke your fall and saved your empty head from breaking when you landed on my shoulders.”

  “That's your version of the story when Mom found us.”

  However amusing listening to the brother's bantering, Taylor thought she had better go back to the party. “I'll leave you two alone to size up your egos.”

  “Stay,” Bors commanded.

  “Okay, I guess I'm the one leaving. I want to hear you play again, Taylor. Don't know about ugly face here.”

  “Just leave, Gawain.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I don't want to be in here anyway. There's something about this kitchen that bonds people together and make them do things like kissing and groaning. I'm beginning to think there's some magic bouncing around in here. Better go. Teta might come. I don't want the magic to bounce while she's here.” Gawain shivered with exaggeration, rubbing his arms up and down. “Do you know, Taylor, that she carries a gun in her purse?”

  “No, I didn't know that.”

  “Yup. That's why I couldn't complain when she stepped on my toes.”

  “Bro, I thought you're leaving?” Bors said.

  “Yeah, yeah. Hey, Taylor! Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  Gawain raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Ugly face is here because of you. I guess we'll be seeing him more often now. Mom and Dad couldn't be happier.” He turned around and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her alone with Bors.

  “What was that about?”

  “I don't know.”

  * * * *

  At two forty-five in the morning, Bors finally pulled into his driveway. If he hadn't put a stop on Taylor and Kirsten's gabbing, he would still be sitting in his parents’ living room, sipping his second glass of wine and most likely, would have been driven home by one of his brothers. Waiting for Taylor had been fine and dandy when he and Simms were exchanging information about Jean and what he had gotten so far from Taylor, which was basically nothing new except for the reason why Taylor ran away.

  When Simms shifted the conversation to computer hassles and went into a debate with Percival, he had decided to looked for Taylor and found her and Kirsten in his mom's sunroom. Both had been lying on their stomachs on the carpeted floor, browsing through Kirsten's clothing designs. He had watched them for a minute, his attention focused on Taylor's long smooth legs bent at the knees, ankles crossed, and swinging idly back and forth. Julie and Kirsten used to stay up late, too. That had been before Tristan stole Julie from Kirsten. Judging the way the women had laughed, he knew Kirsten found a new friend.

  He would have had been content just to stand and watch the two women, but the party was over, the caterer they hired had cleaned and left the backyard as it was before, and he wanted Taylor back in his house.

  Turning off his engine, he shifted in his seat to watch Taylor, who still looked out the window. With the soft glow the moon provided, he could see the outline of her delicately carved cheekbones, her full lips, and long lashes. She had been quiet since they left his parents’ house. He wondered what she was thinking right now.

  “Babe? We're here. You awake?”

  Taylor looked at him, then smiled. “I've never been this awake in all my life. It's as if I just woke up from a long dream and started living.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your family.”

  “They're a handful, I know.”

  “I adore them.”

  Bors met Taylor's eyes, bright with joy. “Glad to hear that.” He leaned forward, pushing the wayward hair off her face, then placed a finger beneath chin, turning her face toward him. Taylor placed her hand on his forearm. The warmth of her skin on his hand traveled from his fingers to his heart and then continued down to his cock. God, he had to kiss her.

  He did. It was slow, thoughtful. The perfect kiss for a moonlit night. But Taylor's eagerness made it difficult for him to rein in his control. Her open wet mouth tasted so sweet and her tongue danced with his, raising temperature to a fever pitch.

  Quickly, his calm shattered. He traced the soft fullness of her mouth with his tongue before exploring the warmth deep inside. His hand traced the column of Taylor's neck,
shoulder and then her full breast. God, it was perfect. He wanted to suck her, feel her. Make love with her. Bors throbbed. His hard cock begging to be freed. Tearing his mouth from Taylor's, he kissed her chin, ear, then continued down to suckle her nipple through the material of her dress.

  Taylor whimpered. The sound made him even harder, if that was even possible. He switched between biting and suckling until he couldn't take it anymore. He sat up straight, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other on Taylor's shoulder. He needed to control himself, his breathing, or he might just have a heart attack in the car.

  Jesus! Looking at Taylor, she was in no better shape. Her cheeks were flushed and chest heaving. “You, daughter of Eve, are a danger to my insanity.” He pulled the key from the ignition, then got out of the car. He walked toward the passenger side and opened Taylor's door.

  “You, son of Adam, are what mothers warned their daughters about.” Taylor turned and walked away from him.

  With his lust-induced brain, it took him a few seconds before he understood what she meant. Bors laughed. He walked ahead of Taylor, then leaned against the front door, facing the woman who'd wiggled her way deep inside his skin and close to his heart in a very short time.

  “Are you saying that I am a bad influence? Like the heroes in Julie's romance books? The rakes, scoundrels.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which kind am I?”

  “A tease.”

  He didn't know how he managed to insert the key into the keyhole to unlock the door without looking, but he did. Turning the knob, he pushed it open. “Did I tease you, Taylor, with my kisses?”

  “Now you are being a scoundrel.”

  At past two in the morning, he shouldn't flirt with her. But the time was too sweet to end. Taking her hand, he pulled her inside and shut the door. “Hard not to be one when I'm around you.”

  “I arouse wickedness. Should I be flattered with that comment?”

  “Baby, you should. Right now, I am too fucking aroused to go to bed.”

  “Oh.”

  He shocked her with his choice of words. Taylor's eyes grew bigger and her jaw slackened. Bors took advantage. He showered kisses around her mouth and along her jaw. Without stopping, he continued to kiss the expanse of her shoulder, lowering her strap as he went farther down. Taylor shivered when he exposed her breast, blew on her nipple before trapping it between his lips. The pink nipple hardened. He turned rock hard.

 

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