"Good evening milord."
"Good evening to you, milady. Does the gown please you? I would have you in my colors."
Her dress of bronze samite silk matched the embroidery on his collar. The garment fit snug under the bodice and accentuated her bust. A gentle flare in the front cutaway revealed an underskirt of cobalt blue silk covered in a fine woven mesh of gold that sparkled in the light. Tight sleeves edged in the same gold netting ended in a vee just past the base of her wrists.
"It's beautiful. I feel like Cinderella." She swayed back and forth, captivated by the shimmering mesh.
His hands stilled her as they inched upward to rest along the sides of her breasts. "I don't know Cinderella. I'm sure she pales in comparison though. It pleases me you like my choice."
Elinor tipped her chin, hinting for a kiss.
"It would also please me if you'd dance with me like you've danced with Guy." Basil's lips grazed hers, the barest of touches, the words a caress on her mouth.
"Now I really do feel like Cinderella at the ball."
They weaved an easy pattern in the firelight to Roberta Flack’s, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Fact.”
“You look far away,” Basil said.
“I was listening to the lyrics.”
“Do you like the song?”
“It’s lovely. The lyrics are wonderfully romantic.”
“I’m glad.” He pressed his hand tighter to the small of her back. "I asked Guy to help me choose some pretty music. I'm afraid I'm not a musical person. Guy has often accused me of being a Philistine."
She kissed the corners of his mouth and teased the outline of his lips with her finger. Basil's smile widened just enough to snag it in his teeth. He drew the digit in further, rhythmically sucking as the tip of his tongue skimmed the pad.
He brushed her hand away and kissed her again. Each kiss lasted longer and longer. Savored by the lovers, each was as thrilling as a first kiss and desperate as a last.
The silk of her gown was an erotic whisper on her skin. He slipped his warm hand under the skirt and made a wide arc up the outside and down the inside of her bare thigh. The back of his knuckles teased her excited flesh as his hand progressed.
Her nerve endings became tiny needle pricks. One finger became two as he made come hither motions inside her. The strokes grew faster and penetrated further. She clamped hard onto the firm muscles of his shoulders. The husky cry of “no” turned to unintelligible moans as his grip anchored her while the climax ran its course.
He slid his hand out slow and hugged Elinor close. She nestled against him. "I believe we should go to your chamber milord." She glanced down, then up, and wiggled her brows, "Unless you want me to take you here on this stone floor."
"You are a bold woman to think to take a warrior in his own hall."
"I'm brazen enough to take you anywhere I can," she said, delighting in the vibration of his laugh through the cloth.
“Shall we?” He motioned toward the staircase.
They walked with arms wrapped around each other's waist. She tilted into him, the cushiony velvet of his tunic soft and luxurious on her cheek.
Fresh candles burned in the stanchions and a hearty fire warmed the chamber. “What is your pleasure tonight?” Basil’s words muffled as his lips grazed her forehead.
She placed her palms on his chest and held him at bay. “No, tonight you will tell me what you want. This night, satisfying your wants is my pleasure.”
“As you wish, it would be unchivalrous to deny a lady her desire.”
He turned her around and untied the laces of her dress. His fingers lingered at each sliver of exposed skin the open laces left. The gown fell away from her shoulders and rough palms eased the sleeves down, freeing her arms. He inched the dress over her hips, unwrapping her like a gift, the silk pillowing at her feet like a bronze cloud.
He came around and kneeled in front of her. He lifted each leg to push the skirt aside, then rocked back on his heels and slid his hands up her calves. Soft pressure behind her knees pulled her to him. She sucked in air as he kissed a path up her thigh.
She grabbed a handful of raven black hair and forced him to look up. Taking as much of his tunic in her fists as she could, she tugged until he stood.
“You are my prisoner.” She struggled to hold his wide wrists with one hand while undoing the tunic’s toggle fasteners. He crossed his wrists offering a more manageable hold for her smaller hands. It gave her the advantage she needed.
“Hah, victory,” she declared and removed the tunic, then continued to undo his breeches. “A lesser woman would’ve given up. Now, I will know what you desire, milord.”
Basil brought his lips to her ear. “I want to make love to you with each of my senses. I want to smell you, inhale your scent,” he told her and nuzzled her neck.
She forgot her hold and tilted her head to give him full access to her throat.
“The perfume you wear, it is L’interdit, yes?”
“Yes.”
“L’interdit.” The word sounded almost holy when he spoke it. “I want to know where on your body the perfume lingers strong and where it grows faint. Here on your neck it is exotic and bold.” He buried his face in her breasts, “Here it is tantalizing but distant.” He knelt again. “I want to feel the intake of your breath when I touch you.”
As he intended, she gasped softly and her stomach drew in as he dragged his tongue along her abdomen, blowing warm air in its wake.
She wove her fingers through his hair, deaf to everything but his voice as he chronicled her every response. His palms cupped her buttocks and pinned her as he progressed downward.
Behind him, the candles burned bright then soft. The flicker from their flame danced on his skin. Riveted, she watched the play of light and shadows move across the muscles of his arms and shoulders.
“I want to taste your need for me and hear your cry of ecstasy. I want to feel your body contract around my tongue then contract even harder when I am inside you.” Her skin tickled as he whispered the words against her thigh.
He rose and crushed her to him. A punishing kiss claimed her mouth. A kiss that affirmed ownership that she was his to take. “I want to see your eyes grow cloudy and darken with your hunger, only for me. Tell me. Say the words. You hunger. Only for me.”
Her whole body throbbed, coherent thought shattering before reaching realization. The glow from the fire and candles dimmed and flared, and dimmed again. Basil appeared like an avenging angel in the eerie light, his strong grip imploring her to answer.
“Yes. Only for you.”
He led her to the bed, setting her in front of him so she sat cradled within the contours of his body. He surrounded her with pillows like one of the houris from a sultan’s palace.
“I thought I was to pleasure you.” She tried to turn her head but he held her in place.
“Shh, lean back. This is what I want and it will please me.” His arms encircled her, cupping her breasts, teasing and toying with her nipples.
One hand stayed high giving equal attention to each breast. The fingers of his other hand splayed across her taut stomach, their padded tips circling and dipping into her navel. His whispered intentions grew more graphic and erotic as he delved lower on her body.
“Spread your legs and open for me, Elinor.” She pushed back hard into his chest as he pressed his palm on top of her pubic bone. His fingers tormented her until she exploded into a violent climax.
Her breathing still labored, he rolled them both over. She rolled one more turn so she was on top. Straddling him, she wrapped her hand around his cock. With the pad of her thumb she slickened his velvety tip with the semen that teared from it.
She inched down and peered up. “Now, I would taste you and hear you cry my name.” She wanted to go on and repeat his passionate words back at him.
Elinor jerked awake, panting like an excited puppy. She turned a lamp on and saw her headphones on the pillow. The night breeze teased th
e edge of the sheet she’d kicked off. She swung her legs to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. The explicit dream vivid in her mind, she padded into the bathroom and drank two full glasses of cold water. How would she ever face Basil again, straight-faced, without thinking of what they’d done, if only in a dream?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elinor and Basil spent every day and night together during the remaining weeks of the school’s summer break. They rode or had picnics in the woods and at the castle ruins. Sometimes Guy joined them on their rides and often when they played board games. She taught them to play Monopoly and Castle Risk. They caught on to Castle Risk with remarkable speed and trounced her on a regular basis. Neither were gracious winners.
“Am I not a brilliant warrior?” Basil said, gloating. “Once again, victory is mine.”
Guy was equally obnoxious when he stormed her imaginary territories. The last time the three played she lost her temper.
“Lucy once said all men are little emperors, you two are empirical proof of the statement's veracity.” Elinor dumped the game pieces in the box, folded the board and went off in a huff.
Basil, in turn, tried to teach her to play chess, and eventually gave up. Her inability to plan several moves ahead stretched his patience to the limit.
“’Tis a game of strategy,” Basil barked, capturing her rook with his bishop. “I have demonstrated more than once how to anticipate and plan your tactics accordingly.”
“What can I say? This whole war scenario escapes me.”
Secretly, he suspected she pretended to be simple minded.
“I refuse to play with you anymore if you won’t use your wits.”
“I understand and don’t blame you.”
Basil looked suspicious, check-mated her in two moves, and left with a scowl on his face.
Guy popped a tape into the stereo. “You dislike the game and wanted to quit I think,” he said to Elinor who was storing the chessboard in a cabinet.
“My God, the game is dull as dry toast. I have no idea why people find it so bloody entertaining.”
Guy pulled a record from a stack of albums and put it on the turntable. He adjusted the volume and began recording. He’d discovered how to make custom cassette tapes of his favorite songs from albums. According to him, this was nothing short of miraculous.
“Tell the old warhorse when he returns that I went shopping,” Elinor said.
Preoccupied, Guy nodded without looking up.
She was still out when Basil came back from a ride. He found Guy laying on the sofa and talking back to the actors in a movie on the television.
“Sit down, the movie hasn’t been on long.”
Basil joined him.
“Bloody awful!" Guy said two hours later and snapped the television off. He grabbed the program listing. "It says right here, ‘Casablanca, a World War Two classic that pits Humphrey Bogart against a Nazi Captain.’ The perfidy of the BBC luring innocent folk to watch such rubbish."
"War movie indeed,” Basil said. “There wasn't one battle scene. But then there wouldn't be with that passel of cowards. All they did was try to outwit one another for the papers to sneak away on."
"Sam the piano player was good," Guy conceded.
"At least he could sing," Basil agreed.
As they wandered out still voicing their disgruntlement with various plot points the phone rang. Elinor’s answer machine came on, followed by Jeremy’s voice. He left a number to call.
Elinor walked in the door an hour later, played the message and rushed to call Lucy to tell her Jeremy had phoned. “Guess who rang me up? I’ll give you a hint. He’s the biggest jerk in the universe.” She paced behind her desk in the library while Lucy tried to figure it out. “Yes, Jeremy.”
Basil stopped in the doorway when he heard his enemy’s name. Unseen, he eavesdropped.
“He said he wanted to see me again, soon.” Elinor said, a bit breathless.
Basil heard enough, something had to be done to thwart the butcher. He spun and headed for the village. A few minutes later, Elinor reiterated to Lucy she had no intention of going out with Jeremy ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A teacher's meeting kept Elinor late. Basil used the opportunity to convince the school secretary to pass the message along. A number of times in the past he'd whispered suggestions to mortals. They always credited a “little bird” being responsible for the suggestions. The logic of this phenomena escaped Basil. To his knowledge, England did not possess an abundance of talking birds.
Sarah, ran over as Elinor walked to her car. The secretary apologized for not giving the message to her earlier. "A little bird told me I was forgetting to do something."
Elinor sat in her car and stared at the note. Her brain screamed to tear the aggravating request up and go home. But, one tiny part of her felt guilty about ignoring a plea that claimed to be an emergency.
“Why won’t he leave me alone? Fine. I'll see what is so urgent, and then never, ever see him again.” Elinor balled the note up and drove into the village.
Jeremy’s eyes widened and then sparked with anger when he opened the door. He stepped into the hall with the speed of a man who’s just seen a cobra, slamming the door shut behind him.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Elinor’s shoe caught on the carpet, nearly tripping her as she tried to get out of his way. Bewildered by the malice in his tone, she didn’t answer at first.
"I asked what are you doing here?" He took a menacing step closer. His skin was flushed all the way down his neck and dark red blotches colored his cheeks.
Elinor refused to retreat, desperate not to let him see how he intimidated her. "I'm here because of your stupid message. Why else? You ass."
The door opened again and a pretty brunette in a short kimono started to enter the hallway. "Who's she?"
"A customer. Go back inside Caroline.” He shot a warning glance at Elinor. “Do what I said,” he ordered. “I'm taking care of this."
The brunette didn't move, inspecting Elinor instead. “What does she want? Did she follow you home?"
He shoved the woman inside and closed the door. His voice was low when he confronted Elinor again. "I don't know what you think you're playing at coming here. That's my fiancé, and I swear if you say one word to her about us, I'll make you regret it."
Stunned, Elinor fixed on the spot the brunette had vacated. When Jeremy issued his threat, she finally turned back to him. "Were you engaged when we went out?"
"Yes, and don't think to act the wounded puppy. It's not like you were hurt. I needed a diversion, a little side action and you seemed promising." His lip curled into an ugly sneer. "Christ, what a mistake. I had to fight you for a lousy hand job. I only called last week because Caroline was out of town and I was horny."
Jeremy gave Elinor a bruising push with the heel of his hand to her shoulder. "Get out of here!"
Elinor flinched and slapped his hand away, the sound echoing down the empty hall, "Go to hell!"
Basil and Guy watched Elinor race out of the building before following Jeremy inside. The knights lingered in the shadows and waited. They listened as the brunette told the butcher to be less friendly with his customers. "Really Jeremy, some of these sad, lonely types like that woman will think you're flirting."
The brunette left the room and a moment later the shower started. Jeremy came out of the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. He didn't notice the ottoman had been moved and blocked his path.
His elbow slammed hard into the wall as he fell. The glasses went airborne and shattered, spilling wine over the wood floor. Jeremy cradled his elbow as he tried to sit up. The eyes that sparked with anger aimed at Elinor, reflected terror now, seeing the blade of a sword hovering above his throat. The semi-transparent figure of the knight who held it grew stronger.
"Who the hell are you," Jeremy asked in a strangled voice.
He used his hip and good elbow to crawl back a few
inches. Glass fragments crunched under his weight as Guy flanked him.
Basil watched the butcher's nostrils flare and his eyes dart nervously, between him and Guy. The symptoms of fear were something Basil had seen a hundred times in men he fought. The butcher's struggle not to panic pleased him.
"Who we are doesn't matter. Hear me well, butcher, never speak to, or touch Elinor again, ever. And if you think to threaten her," one side of Basil's mouth lifted in a sinister mockery of a grin. "...Pray God for his mercy, for it's the only mercy you'll know."
Jeremy snorted with false defiance, "I'm not in the habit of taking orders from psychopaths. I'm calling the police and having all three of you arrested."
There was only a flash of steel and Guy’s blade stopped an inch short of Jeremy’s neck. He jerked back, banged his head hard into the wall and lost control of his bladder. The wet stain darkened the front of his jeans and the acrid odor of ammonia filled the air.
Light bounced off Guy's sword as he held it under Jeremy's ear. "I do not know what a psychopath is, but I mislike the word."
Jeremy recoiled as Guy tilted the blade's edge closer.
Basil sheathed his sword and kneeled down, the hair on Jeremy's arm raised as the knight neared. "Heed my words butcher, or you may find yourself in a place where all you hear is silence."
The knights disappeared.
Jeremy stared vacantly and started to cry.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elinor sat up in the corner of the sofa with a stiff whiskey. The circumstances of the incident nagged at her. If Jeremy hadn't sent the message, then who did? Only five people knew she'd dated him, excluding the two of them, it left Lucy, Basil and Guy.
Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) Page 12
