Averill: Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 3)

by Jackie Ivie

  Averill tried not to blush. She lowered her head until her chin touched the material.

  “Ask if she’ll join my harem. Unlike you, I am a lusty man.”

  Averill stiffened. Please, Tenny...

  “Averill?” He turned to her and translated the words in Spanish as if she’d no understanding.

  “I belong to no man.” She glanced again at Al-Hassen’s bulk and shuddered in revulsion.

  “She says she belongs to me,” Captain Tennison translated incorrectly.

  “Then sell her to me. How much must I pay?”

  “Averill isn’t for sale. She’s my artist.”

  “Is this true? Where are her paintings, then?”

  Averill’s canvasses were sent for and displayed. She eyed them for flaws and found none. Each was as unique as her feelings when she rendered them.

  “These are very beautiful,” the sheik said. “I would deem it an honor to have her. I’d pay well for her addition to my harem. I’d supply her with the finest in paints and brushes. She’ll have servants at her command. She’ll want for nothing. Her children will be as kings. Tell her of it.”

  Tenny turned back to her. “What would you have me say now?” he asked.

  “Since you translate so freely,” she replied, “make up something of your own.”

  He lifted a piece of sharp cheese from his own plate and handed it to her. Averill waited for a moment before accepting it. She knew how possessive it appeared, and silently thanked him. Then, he spoiled it.

  “From his words, he would be a generous man. You mustn’t be so quick with decisions such as this.”

  The soft Spanish words hurt, but she wouldn’t let him know. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered an answer.

  “Tell him I have a sharp tongue. I’d make poison for him, not honey. Tell him you wouldn’t saddle your worst enemy with me.”

  He grinned further, while she looked down at the floor and awaited the translation. The sheik laughed even louder as Tenny finished, but his eyes remained on Averill.

  Tenny leaned back and whispered, “You’d best sleep beside me tonight.”

  She nodded, nibbling at her cheese. She knew he was protecting her, but her heart beat faster at his words.

  Stupid girl, she chided herself.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When they left the sheik’s tent, Tenny’s arms were around her. She played the lover for anyone who was watching, molding her body to his and hushing her thoughts to silence. It was obvious they weren’t the only ones. Averill had seen Tenny’s men doing the same, with the dancing girls at their sides, but they were acting even more drunken than their captain was.

  Tenny steered her toward the same tent as before, but inside, cushions had been spread around a large pallet. The rolled pillows made Averill’s eyes shy away. She watched Tenny tie the door flap together and then he lugged a small chest in front of it. “Averill?”

  His whisper made her heart beat so stridently it hurt. She kept her eyes on the carpet beneath them. And then he was there, standing before her, the two lamps barely lighting the space between them. She refused to look up. He reached toward her arm. She watched the movement. Although he didn’t touch her, she felt it. He stepped closer, and she held her breath.

  “This is going to be an impossible night. You know that?”

  She nodded after a moment.

  “They’ll attack. I have to be ready. I can’t sleep. I already knew that…but it just makes everything harder. I can’t begin to contemplate—Damn! This is worse than I suspected. My mind plays images for me and there’s nothing to stop them. Perhaps you should seek the bed, and prevent me from saying something I’ll regret. Would you do that?”

  She raised her eyes. “Will it help?”

  He sighed loudly. She watched a tuft of hair lift from his forehead at the motion. “Probably not. There isn’t anything that helps. Do you know what I speak of?”

  She nodded. He filled the space directly in front of her.

  “Do you still want me, Averill?” His breath teased the veil on her hair with the question.

  How can I deny it? She looked into his eyes and felt his swift intake of air. “Tell me no, Averill. Do something. Anything. You have to stop me...stop this.”

  His arms went around her, pulling her to him, and then his mouth lowered to hers. Trembling filled her as his kiss deepened, controlling every thought. He slid his mouth across her cheek to her ear. She moaned and clung as his tongue touched her earlobe.

  “You’re wondrous fair, Averill. Too beautiful to be borne, too lovely to forget. I had no idea sin would come wrapped in such a package. Please stop me. I can’t stop myself. God knows I’ve tried.”

  He lifted a hand to the tie at her throat, undid it and pushed the silk from her shoulders. Lamplight touched the tops of her breasts and the line of her throat. She watched his intake of breath.

  “Say something, Averill.”

  He said it against her skin, bending so that his head reached the juncture of her breasts. He filled her with heat and fire, and teased her with light at the same time. And then his tongue flicked out. Averill jumped.

  “I love you,” she replied.

  “Oh God. Not that. Anything but that.”

  He lifted his head, then picked her up in his arms. The softness of the bed felt strange against her back, but she welcomed it, sinking into it and bringing Tenny with her. She refused to let him go. If she loved, was it really such a sin?

  A hand roved over her waist, fitting about her slimness. Her flesh flared under the silk dress, enchanted by the touch of his fingers moving down her hip to a thigh.

  She moaned.

  “Oh, Averill. You’re so beautiful. So wondrous fair.”

  He stood from her, pulled his arms from his robes and dropped the garments on the carpets. Averill drank in the sight of his chest and arms…muscled. Large. Tanned. And he just stood there. Breathing hard. Beautiful. Massive. Manly. The dark-scabbed wound scoring his chest didn’t alter the impression. He was perfect.

  “You were made for my loving, Averill. Do you also know that?”

  Averill raised her arms to him.

  “What have you done to me?”

  He asked it as he went to his knees beside her. She shook her head in answer, her eyes filling with stupid tears again. He reached for her and slid the silk off her shoulders with shaking hands. Averill lifted for him and helped his hands find the tie at her waist and the hooks at her side. Until it was undone.

  She watched as he looked her over, the lamplight displaying her nakedness. She was probably as scrawny-looking as that Daisha woman, but she didn’t feel it. She felt beautiful. Tenny shuddered as he looked at her.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered, and then he lifted from her and stepped back.

  Averill clamped her eyes shut at the instant anguish, Shivers raced across her exposed skin. But he wasn’t leaving her. She heard the hiss of flames getting extinguished. Smelled the aroma. Averill watched him shut down lamp after lamp, until the only illumination came from the glow of the camp outside their walls. It was enough. Shadows followed the ridges of him. His arms. Legs. His movements, as he shed his trousers, and then he was there. With her.

  She cried aloud at the first touch. His fingers molded to her breast before moving down her ribs to her belly. And it felt amazing. Wondrous. And she wanted more.

  Averill arched against him, writhing on the bedding. Her hands gripped to his shoulders, subconsciously kneading the muscle there. His eyes were black spaces in the darkness, glittering with moisture.

  “Forgive me,” he repeated.

  Forgive him? The man was mad.

  It was her kiss that united them. Her hands pulling him to her. Her movements rubbing her breasts against his chest. Breaths grew harsh. Moans intermingled. Legs entwined. A large, incredibly different, rigid portion of him dug into her belly. Alarming her. And then enticing. Averill rolled her skin along it. Felt him shudder in respon
se. Heard the groan in his breath. And then felt the touch of his tongue against her nipple. Averill’s entire body jerked, stunned. Mystified. And delighted. The sisters hadn’t said anything about this!

  And then everything stopped. He went instantly still. Solid. Silent. Averill whimpered at the loss, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

  “Hush!”

  For a moment, the only sound in the world was the heavy quick thump of each heartbeat in each ear. And then she heard it. Something bumped against the chest he’d placed at the door.

  Tenny slid backward, taking Averill with him. Carpet met her toes. Cool night air raised goose bumps along her skin. He wrapped fabric about her. It smelled of him. His robe. It seemed even dimmer than before. Averill sensed Tenny’s movement at her knees, seeking a weapon, then a motion caught at the corner of her eye. A flash of steel. Aimed right for Tenny’s unguarded back.

  “No!”

  Averill threw herself at the intruder, slamming into his arm. Fire lanced through her shoulder, followed by a white arc of ice. And pain. Massive. Pain. The blade fell. She collapsed beside it, her arm throbbing, her fingers numb.

  Tenny swore and lunged at the attacker.

  Averill watched them struggle, heard grunts. Blows. A slight hiss of sound. A choked off exclamation, and then silence. Or maybe it was her ears making it so. It was impossible to hear above the heartbeat sound pummeling each ear. It matched the throbbing inferno moving through her side. Please God, don’t let it be Tenny. Please?

  “Averill!”

  She was in his arms. Lifted. Encased. It was getting darker, too. That didn’t make any sense.

  “Oh, Averill, how could you have done something so brave?”

  Because I love you, she replied silently. And then everything went black.

  ~ ~ ~

  “No! Father Sanders, no. Please? I beg you!”

  He pulled her to him and grabbed at her breast painfully.

  “No!”

  “You were made for such, child, just as your mother was. Do you want the sins of a harlot to go un-forgiven?”

  Harsh sobs filled her as she kicked at him, leaving rents in his cassock. “I’ll tell the sisters!”

  He laughed and shoved her against the wall. She couldn’t prevent her grunt of pain as she glanced off it.

  “Go ahead, tell them. They won’t believe you. Why should they? The sins of the parents are visited on the child. And your mother was a sinner. A whore. Giving her body to any man. That’s why you’re here. Unclaimed. Your mother didn’t even want you. You must purge those foul thoughts from your mind and take penance!”

  He was breathless. The words curt.

  “No!” She lunged away from his hands, pushed open the confessional door and tumbled out. “Sister Greyson!”

  “She won’t believe you, child. Why should she?”

  His face was red with effort. Averill snarled bitterly as she slammed the door on his leering face. The sisters must not know Father Sanders opened the wall and invaded the darkness, making the confessional booth twice as large and infinitely more dangerous.

  And, for what? Her words about a secret kingdom? The treasured place where a man came to her? Was that such a sin?

  ~ ~ ~

  “She lost a bit of blood, but she’ll be right as rain soon enough. You’ll see. Streets are known to breed toughness, despite appearances.”

  The words sounded as if they came from a long distance. Averill opened her mouth to ask for quiet.

  “Averill!”

  It was Tenny. He sounded strange.

  “Wa...ter?”

  A drop or two was placed on her lip, when she longed for a canteen full. Her lips twisted.

  “Leave us, Harvey.”

  “If you think it best.”

  “Now.”

  His servant must’ve obeyed, because next she felt Tenny right beside her, although he didn’t touch her. His fingers smoothed the hair at her temple back behind an ear.

  “We thought you might never wake.”

  She opened her eyes, blinked. And tried to focus. The tent overhead was strange. It was made of darker material than she remembered.

  “Where...am I?” she asked.

  “New tent. Sheik Al-Hassen doesn’t have much of a stomach for fighting. He left before daybreak. Spineless cur. Does it hurt?” He brought his face into her sight.

  She shook her head, met his eyes, and then blushed. Severely. Oh my. She’d been with him. Seen him. Felt him against her. Fully. And she’d been prepared and willing and ready to welcome and receive him. Cleave to him. And it would have happened if they hadn’t been attacked.

  “The man who…came?” she asked.

  “Dead. I almost thought the same of you. Harvey might think you strong, but I know the truth. That’s why I’ve been watching you all day.”

  “Did I lose…my arm?”

  He chuckled. “Oh no. No. The sword was knocked loose before it hit. You’ve got a cut about this big.”

  He opened his thumb and forefinger to show a two-inch span. Averill whooshed out a breath she hadn’t known she’d held.

  “It’s a good thing you weren’t helping me at Apamea. You’d never have survived. You’ll have a nice bruise, though. Some pain. Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head.

  “Averill. We have to talk. You and me. About…uh, yes. I can do this. About us.”

  Again?

  “I mean, I shouldn’t even be this close to you.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed and rolled onto his back. “I’ve been doing a bit of soul-searching, Averill, especially after what you said.”

  “What...did I say?”

  “You spoke of a Father Sanders and his actions. I’d like to see that man booted from the cloth! You also spoke of your mother.”

  Oh no! Tears welled up and hovered, dangerously near spilling. Such shameful secrets were never to be voiced! They were hers alone.

  “Actually, you repeated words Father Sanders must’ve said to you when he — well, when you — when...oh blast! This is difficult.”

  He’d rolled back onto his side toward her. She didn’t move. Blink. Breathe. The tent roof above them was coarsely woven. Specks of light came through the weave. He sighed.

  “I should’ve had more control. I’m older. I’m stronger. And I’m supposed to be a gentleman. It’s been ingrained since birth. You have my abject apologies, Averill. I gave you my word of honor, and then I broke it.”

  “When?” she whispered.

  “I…uh. We…well. How to phrase this? I…um. Back there. In our tent.”

  “When you were attacked?”

  “No. I was caught – literally – without my pants. I allowed a child to take a blow meant for me. I feel miserable about that, too.”

  “Child?”

  “You’re so young, Averill.”

  “No, I’m not,” she replied.

  “Comparatively speaking, you are. I knew it the moment I looked into your eyes that first night. Remember? When you were so busy hating me for causing the rip in your trousers, you couldn’t see the danger all about you. You’ve so much innocence within you, regardless of your past. You needed someone to care for you. Someone to act as your guardian. Someone to champion you.”

  “I never said—.” Averill started to argue, but he interrupted.

  “I know you didn’t. It was a fight to get you to accept! I still don’t know what I was thinking. But I swore to keep you safe from lustful men, and look what happens. I’m no better than the next man. Me. Andrew Tennison.”

  “Lust?” The word was whimpered.

  “My actions were inexcusable. Dishonorable. Deplorable. I am full of remorse, Averill. Will you forgive me?”

  “There is...nothing to forgive.”

  She didn’t know how she was supposed to react. Disbelief was colliding with such acute embarrassment, that it almost took the edge off the beginnings of massive ache. She reeled under the weight
of it. Lust?

  “Don’t say it lightly.”

  Averill’s heart hurt. Her shoulder hurt. Just about everything on her body hurt, if she examined it. She didn’t. She slammed her eyes shut. Swallowed. And spoke. “I told you I loved you, Captain Tennison. I do. But I will not speak of it again. It is I who should be apologizing. Not you.” Her voice broke partway through the words. It was a far cry from how broken the rest of her felt.

  He groaned. “Perhaps I should have Harvey stay with you tonight,” he said finally.

  Averill shuddered. “Not him, please? Anyone else.”

  “There is no one else I trust. Not around you. You’re too blasted beautiful. Desirable. Tempting. Good God, Averill. The last thing you can be is unprotected.”

  He gave another heavy sigh. Averill didn’t answer. She was doing her best to keep her breathing even, her tone level, and her feelings hidden. Her mouth was dry, and her throat a parched entity that felt like it belonged to someone else.

  “And that means I’m staying. I wish you to know in advance, it’s not going to be easy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s make a pact. You and me. Right now. We cease apologizing. What happened between us well…it just happened. It’s not something we wanted. And it’s not something that will be repeated. Fair?”

  ‘It’s not something we wanted.’

  It was echoing through her as she nodded, brushing her head against the pillow. And he answered. That’s how she knew he watched her. Closely.

  “You’ve got to help me, though. We have another journey before us. I either have to send you away, or...not.”

  He waited. Averill didn’t think her throat would work.

  “If I keep you, I’ll need help, Averill. I’m only a man…and I’m woefully inadequate at keeping my hands to myself. I don’t think it’s entirely my fault, though. You’re the most striking woman I’ve ever seen. I’m truly surprised I didn’t realize it earlier.

  “You’re also amazingly talented and terribly intriguing. I desire you. Even now, with you injured and in pain and probably ready to hit me, my body is betraying me. I can’t stop it. I’ve tried. Damn me.”