Basil swung his legs to the floor. She straddled one, buried her hands in his hair and lowered herself down. She ground along the length of the captured thigh, the erotic contact making her bold. He cupped her bare buttocks, licking the tiny rivulet of sweat that rolled between her breasts.
He brought her with him as he stood, deft fingers undid the laces of the dress. Strong arms laid her back on the bed.
She cradled his face in her palms, and kissed his lips, his chin, his neck, his cheeks. He smelled of soap and chamomile.
Surrounded by the soft down of the bed she watched him undress. The nobleman and warrior slowly stripped away, now becoming her fantasy lover.
She opened her thighs, reaching out as he lowered himself onto the bed. He held her wrists and kissed her hard, relentlessly, and then he abandoned her mouth. Gentle kisses made a path down to the sensitive hollow above her collarbone. Goose bumps rose where he skimmed his lips over her skin.
"Look at me Elinor," he said, raising his head. Glassy, black marble eyes locked on her. "Tell me what you want."
"You, all of you, as much as I can get."
“Be sure.”
“I am.”
He slipped his hands under her buttocks, raised her hips and buried himself inside her. Basil pulled out and thrust into her again. She drifted to a place somewhere between intense pleasure and the need for release as he moved inside her.
The palms of her hands moved in wide strokes across his hard back, traveling down his spine. She felt a shiver ripple through him at her touch. She began to climb. He took her to the top of a cliff, where she teetered so close, so very close. He withdrew and stayed her fall, only to rock his hips over hers till she cried out. "Please." He drove back into her. Her nails marked his skin in tiny half moons where she gripped his shoulders. She closed her eyes and fell.
Her breath evened and they rolled over. With tender fingers he smoothed away the strands of hair that clung to her face. His hand made a slow arc over her thigh from the back of the knee up as he lowered his head and grazed her lips with a gentle kiss.
He laid her on her back. "I'll never willingly release you. Never. Even in your dreams." Poised above her, the flames from the candles made squares of light in his fathomless eyes. In their depths she saw his uncertainty. He doubted her acceptance of his passion.
She kissed his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose; she dotted his jaw with a dozen kisses and murmured, "Then don't."
He rolled over and pulled her close. Elinor used a length of her hair to tickle and tease his chest and navel.
"Cease your torment woman." The faint lines around his eyes crinkled as he laughed. "You shall make me forget the time and the dawn comes soon. We'll have another night, I promise you."
"You said you'd never willingly release me. Is that a promise?
He was silent for a long minute, then in a barely audible voice said, "Yes, and may God have mercy on my soul."
Elinor's eyes flew open; she bolted upright and scanned the room. The sky had just begun to grow light although the moon and stars shined low on the horizon. She picked the headset off the pillow and placed it on the nightstand, admonishing herself for not being able to keep it in her ears.
She shifted into a sitting position, fluffing her pillows behind her back and drew her knees up. Never had she dreamt such a realistic or erotic dream.
When the sun peeked over the horizon she went downstairs and started a pot of coffee. Guy appeared and sat at the table, with the London Times. Everyday he rummaged through the paper searching out lingerie ads. A few minutes later Basil came in. Heat instantly shot through her.
"You look especially lovely this morning," he said, with an innocent smile and brought his hand to her face. "Your cheeks have a very pretty blush to them. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, remarkably well, thank you." In a moment of panic she touched her lips, checking for swelling.
Chapter Twenty
The five days since her dream had whizzed by. It was Thursday and she had a date with Jeremy. She told herself to keep an open mind. It wasn’t fair to judge him so hastily. Elinor stood at the dining room table silently repeating those words as she went through the day’s mail while Basil railed at her.
"You can't mean to see that bounder again. I've told you he's not your sort."
She’d hoped, apparently in vain, he had softened his opinion since their last discussion. "Basil, please don't start that talk again about him being base born, or a peasant, or whatever label you choose." She tipped her head back and blew out a frustrated puff of air. They'd been arguing all afternoon, since Basil found out Jeremy invited her to dinner. "I'm not breaking the date, period."
"Base born is not the issue. I believe that's something diligence and hard work can overcome, on the rare occasion-"
“I knew there’d be a caveat thrown in.” She tossed the mail down and she squared off with Basil.
"As I was saying, not everything can be so easily changed.” Basil pointed a finger at her, “He's--"
"He's what?” Elinor snapped, “Not an Earl. Not the darling of the court? What?"
"There's nothing I can say to convince you he is bad for you, is there?"
"Come up with something credible and I'll be convinced."
"You're not his." Basil's eyes had glittered with anger then flattened.
Did she read accusation and hurt in the charge, or did that interpretation stem from her own guilt and ambiguity? Elinor couldn’t say. The name Delilah resonated in a corner of her brain. A sense of disloyalty to Basil ate at her all week, illogical and troubling as it was to admit.
"No, I'm not his." I'm not anybody's, she thought. I've no one to read the paper with on Sunday mornings, no one to share a New Year’s kiss with, no one to give me a valentine. For those reasons, Jeremy deserved another chance.
"Basil, it’s only dinner. We're not intimate."
"It's none of my affair. Enjoy your evening." He said crisply, and then disappeared through the back door.
Elinor hurried up the stairs to shower and get ready. Jeremy was due in less than an hour and she wanted to be at the door when he pulled up.
Basil's vocal and adamant disapproval made his feelings clear. The argument had played and replayed a dozen times in her head, as she dressed. She didn't want this sore point between them, especially now. Ever since the night of the dream, Basil brought her roses, always the pale colored ones she favored. Every morning she awoke to find two or three beautiful blooms on the kitchen counter. The charming little gesture made her want to kiss him senseless. However, she also suspected he acquired them from the neighbor's garden.
When asked outright if he nicked them, the question was met with a dramatic wounded look and complete denial. Basil reiterated he was a knight, not a thief. She subsequently cast an inquiring eye toward Guy, who stared back with a wide-eyed face of innocence. Elinor dropped the subject. Some things a woman is better off not knowing.
Finished dressing, she stood in front of the mirror, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Her undefined emotions about Jeremy didn't help. Maybe tonight's date would ease her mind. Maybe she'd discover she really liked Jeremy and stop thinking about the dream. Maybe pigs would fly!
Jeremy drove up as she scurried out the door, locking it as he stepped from his car and walked over. He wore a black dress shirt and black jeans. The dark color complemented his light hair and made his smile even whiter and brighter. He greeted her with a long, deep, and wet, wet kiss.
"I'm sorry this has to be an early night. You've no idea how I missed you." He squeezed her shoulder hard ignoring Elinor's flinch as his fingers bruised the tender area under her collarbone.
"I've missed you too."
Liar. Elinor hadn't thought of him, not in the way he expected. She tried to list his attributes in her mind. He’s attractive. He’s pleasant to talk to, intelligent and articulate. He’s--brutish. The adjective popped into her head as she absently rubbed the spot he’d hurt. The painful
greeting didn’t endear him to her. She told herself to not condemn him by this incident. He’s used to handling heavy cuts of meat and might not realize his strength.
Perhaps he had a delightful sense of humor and she only needed to talk to him at length. "Could we have dinner someplace in the village? It’s close. Afterward we can go somewhere and chat for awhile." She wanted to bite her tongue afraid he'd interpret “go somewhere” meant his flat. She definitely wasn't ready to sleep with him.
"Actually, we’re going to a little place outside of town.” He kissed the palm of her hand, turned on the radio and started down the road opposite the village.
As they exited her driveway Elinor glanced back, half afraid she'd see Basil standing there and sighed aloud when he wasn't.
They arrived at the tiny, dark restaurant in about fifteen minutes. Jeremy held onto her waist or she'd have tripped several times. He chose the farthest booth with the least amount of light in the establishment. Their second date and both times he picked a remote table in a dim place. Their dinner was fine, the conversation constant. Jeremy liked to talk. The humor and charm Elinor hoped for didn’t emerge, in spite of his loquaciousness.
There'd been a minute when she questioned her excellent memory. She'd asked him where in the Yorkshire Dales he planned to go with his mother.
"Yorkshire Dales?" His expression was blank.
"You said you were going there with her this weekend."
"Sorry, you're right. I guess I put the trip out of my mind. I'm not looking forward to it. Bound to be bored senseless. It'll be two days of following her around, while my mother finds fault with every house she sees." He rolled his eyes, his lips curving into a tiny smile as he checked his watch. "Let’s leave."
His speed taking her home bordered on reckless. The country road was pitch black and filled with tight bends and turns. More than a little frightened, she shut her eyes twice when the rear end of his car fishtailed on a curve. Her fear grew the closer they got to her house and Basil. She tried to occupy her mind by making small talk. He kept his answers brief while his hands were anything but quiet.
Jeremy steered with one hand and stroked her thigh with the other. She wasn’t enjoying the attention. He was getting closer and closer to the juncture between her legs with each stroke. She didn’t care for his assumption, although she shouldn’t be surprised according to Lucy. She moved his hand away and laid it on his thigh.
Jeremy chuckled and swiftly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He dragged her hand over and pressed her palm against his crotch. Caught in his firm grip he forced her to rub him through his jeans, until the zipper strained under his erection.
“Stop it!” Elinor tried to pull her hand away.
Moments earlier, she’d been afraid of Jeremy’s driving. Now her fear ratcheted up another notch and had nothing to do with his driving.
Elinor turned as much as possible in the seat and tried again to tug her hand free of his grasp, to no avail.
"Let go!" The words were no sooner off her lips when the car stopped in front of her house and she jerked her hand free.
Thank God.
She unbuckled the seatbelt and grabbed her purse, one foot on the ground before she opened the door all the way. She pushed off the seat using it to give herself added impetus, and bounded out of the car toward the house. He caught her at the waist and spun her around just as she reached the steps. His chest firm against hers, Elinor stumbled backwards until her back hit the exterior wall. Jeremy raised his free hand and laid it flat on the wall, blocking any escape. The masonry was cold and rough through her thin blouse as he pressed closer.
He kissed her cheek and neck, "You can't leave me like this." His breath hot on her flesh, she heard him unzip his jeans. Nausea filled her. "You can see how much I want you. I know you're not a virgin. No woman your age nowadays is. So what's the problem?"
He found the hand she'd held tight at her side. She was no match for his strength. Unable to wrench herself free, he wrapped her hand over his erection.
She tried to reason with him. "Jeremy please don’t. I'm not ready." In the past, she always thought of herself as too proud to beg. "Please, please don't do this." She was wrong.
“You think it’s fun to lead a man on?”
“I didn’t.”
“You happily joined me the night we met at the grocery store. You acted as happy to go to dinner with me again the next night and again this evening. If you didn’t want to fuck me, you shouldn’t have gone out with me.”
Maybe, he was right. If she’d told him no when he called the other day, she wouldn’t be in this position now. She hated him but hated herself more.
His breathing changed as he began to move back and forth, crushing her fingers tighter around him. "You've got me so turned on. If you won't screw me, at least do this." His rapid pants sounded like a train in her ear, and he moved faster and faster in her palm, finally ejaculating. Elinor closed her eyes in revulsion as the warm, sticky fluid oozed between her fingers, dripping over her hand.
He dropped the arm that blocked her path and stepped back to zip himself up. Opening her eyes she stood frozen, wanting to slap him with the same hand he'd cum in. She started for the door when he placed a folded handkerchief into her palm.
He walked with her as she rummaged through her purse with the unsoiled hand. She shook with rage as she tried to get the key in the lock and fumbled.
"In spite of our little struggle I had a good time tonight. It didn’t have to be one-sided you know. I’d rather we had a head banging fuck. I'll call you soon."
He casually turned and headed for his car as she managed to unlock the door and dash inside.
Hard black eyes followed the vehicle down the road. "We'll meet another day, butcher."
Chapter Twenty-One
Guy was stretched out on the sofa listening to music when Elinor came in and rushed upstairs.
A moment later Basil appeared, his image faded as he drew a fireplace poker from the stand. There was a flash of battle-hardened malice in the set of his jaw, dangerous determination in his eyes Guy hadn’t seen since Poitiers.
Basil sliced the air with a powerful downward stroke of the poker. His image disappeared completely with the blow. The jardinière shattered scattering potting soil and the dwarf palm Elinor had ordered from Scotland. With the same unseen fury he drove the iron rod into a log in the grate.
"What is amiss? I haven’t seen you like this since France, when you caught that man-at-arms raping a child.”
Basil related what had transpired. Guy sat up and shook his head. "I've never understood forcing a woman to do anything against her will. The world is filled with obliging women. Why compel one who is not?"
"The cur has no remorse. He thinks to call on her again. I won't allow it." His stronger image returned. Basil's large hands flexed over the arms of the chair, his eyes alive with renewed rage at the mention of Jeremy's intention.
Both knights looked up to the ceiling at the sound of Elinor's shower. "He mocked her when she refused, then bullied her, trying to instill doubt in her for saying no. Distressed as she is, I fear she’ll question her convictions."
"Why would she doubt herself? No, the butcher is the dishonorable one. He's a base and common man without a shred of chivalry, nothing to do with her."
Basil rose and lingered near the stairs. "I heard Lucy say it didn't matter if a woman was a wanton. In this day and age, no one judges her badly. She said Elinor's attitude was silly." Basil started to pace. "I should talk to her."
"No, you should not. I will." Guy didn't give Basil the chance to argue. "It would shame her to know you witnessed what happened. I've perceived of late, the relationship between the two of you has...changed."
Arms crossed over his chest, Basil refused to make eye contact focusing on the staircase instead.
"I see I'm correct. I'll be most interested to hear how this was accomplished. Surely, it has to be better than any bard's tale ever told."
“Do you intend to speak to Elinor or tarry here, plaguing me with questions until the next millennium?”
Guy ignored the withering look he got. "I'll go and speak with her now. But don't think to escape the telling of this recent closeness with the lady."
Basil nodded curtly, and Guy headed for Elinor's room.
****
Elinor sat on the edge of the bed in her robe with the towel in her lap.
“Elinor,” Guy called softly from the hall. “May I enter?”
She didn’t feel like seeing anyone.
“I’d like for us to talk,” he added.
With a heavy sigh, she said, “Come in.”
Guy walked through the door and joined her on the bed.
“What do you want to talk about?” She had a sinking feeling he knew what happened.
“You remember a week ago you asked me if I’d ever been in love and I told you about Lorraine.”
“Yes.”
“I told you when the campaign ended, I wanted to settle down.”
“Ah, huh.”
“We never got a chance to really finish that conversation.”
“Later perhaps. If it’s all right with you, I’d rather-”
Guy interrupted her. “Actually, I think tonight is a perfect night to talk.”
She couldn’t argue without going into details she’d prefer to keep to herself, so she relented. “Fine.”
He laid his hand over hers and it tingled from the fingertips to her wrist. “As you know, I had numerous liaisons with women. I can tell you without exception, I was happy to bed them, but reluctant to wed them. Once, I decided to search for a wife in earnest, I knew my choice would be a lady, like yourself. I’d give my name proudly to this woman who’d be a good example for our children.”
“By good example, you mean a virgin. Guy, I know what you are trying to say. Hundreds of years ago virgins were rampant and cherished. The times have changed. Besides, I’m not...”
He laughed. “Elinor, look at me.” He waited until she did. “Trust me. Virgins weren’t as plentiful as you believe. Would I have married a woman if I bedded her first? Yes, if I cared deeply for her. Like all men, I’d want to be her first. But if there had been another I’d understand. However, I couldn’t if she had been intimate with many.”
Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) Page 10
