by Amber Dane
Her gravelly voice, hoarser from the rawness of her thick sobs cut through him sharply, causing him to wince. He grabbed her hands, gripping them in his. She did not fight him.
“I am sorry!” And he was. God’s teeth! It was the truth.
What if he had not come in just then? What if it had been her maid? Would she have saved her in time? No! Rourke shuddered over the thought and his arms tightened around her. He did not know that he buried his face in her damp hair as he groaned. He had almost lost her and for what? Over their stubbornness? His stubbornness!
“My lord?” Camm’s meek voice cut through Alexa’s quiet sobs from the chamber door.
Without lifting his head, Rourke ordered the maid to fetch fresh linens and a bath. Camm, worried, quickly hurried from the room.
Alexa pulled away from him a little and gazed up at him. “Th-That was horrible.” She shook, not caring that her soul lay bare to him in that moment just as she noticed his was too. It had frightened them both.
Rourke swept away the wisps of hair sticking to her brow and cheeks with one hand, gently. He could not say anything; he was too choked with the terror of what had almost happened. He was glad she cried, gave some solace that she had truly survived.
She watched the strange emotions play across his face. “I have never been so afraid in my life. I thought I was going to die like that. Never have I wished so badly for the taste of fresh air. ‘Twas horrible, awful and-” a choked sob stopped her words and her amber eyes filled again. Rourke closed his eyes, pulling her tight against him once more and managed to utter near her ear.
“I am so sorry, Alexa. So very sorry.” His large hand cupped the back of her head as he pressed her tightly against him.
She clung to him, shivering and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. “I was so helpless to stop them. They tried to kill me.”
Rourke drew back, alarm and suspicion on his worried face. He lifted her chin. “Them? What of do you speak?”
Alexa swallowed, her eyes locked with his as her fingers massaged the back of his neck. “Mayhap it was just one. I am not so sure. But, so-someone covered my mouth and put…put a rag in my mouth.”
Rourke gave her an odd look. He had stopped gagging her days ago. “What rag?”
Alexa squawked, wrenching out of his embrace. Her gaze swept over the bed and the floor. Rourke looked too and neither saw this rag of which she spoke. Alexa’s shoulders slumped and a bewildered look crossed her pale face.
“It was here, I swear it!” Her wide eyes shot back to his angry green. “Someone was in here with me. I tell you truth!” Her voice shook as she shouted at him. .
Fear crawled up Rourke’s spine. He had thought she’d choked on food or drink. Not for one moment had he believed another attempt on her life might have been the cause. Rage built in him at the thought. And guilt.
He reached for her, but she shrank back, her pleading eyes sought his for a sign that he believed her. Rourke did.
Her tough exterior gone and in its place vulnerability. It broke something inside him and he pulled her back against him, fiercely in a snug embrace.
Camm returned along with others in tow for the bath ordered. Rourke hushed and spoke soothing words near Alexa’s ear in an effort to ease her upset. One large hand rubbed up and down her back over the stained and sweat drenched shift that clung to her. She reeked of her vomit and the smell only fueled his rage as he eyed every servant suspiciously as they came and went. He was now surer than ever.
The killer was inside the manor.
Alexa forgot all about the discord and upset between them. The thought of facing death and chained to that bed with that rag shoved down her mouth should have had her railing in anger at him, but it didn’t. What it did for her was make her realize that as for the many nights she’d lain here and days since she’d met him, wishing, praying for death. She did not really want it.
She wanted life and she wanted it with him. He had been right.
Someone was trying to kill her, not him and Alexa had no idea who it was or why. Those two thoughts had crushed her just as they had given her the extra will to hang on long past the moment she had believed she could no longer draw in a final breath and darkness had beckoned. Then she’d seen the light. His sun streaked golden head had come into view and she’d grasped with her last bit of strength ebbing one last time for that life and his light. She clung fiercely to him now and did not let him go until he had to pry her fingers from around his neck so she could take her bath.
TWENTY
Rourke watched her from the window. Although she did not look as peaked now, with the warm bath having brought some color back to her cheeks, he could still see the visible tremors in her hands as she ran her fingers absently through her damp hair. He had stepped out into the hall when Camm had helped her with her bath, against his better judgment. But at Alexa’s fear filled eyes and silent pleading, he’d done so, but with a loud grunt of disapproval.
She was such a strong-willed person and to see her like this, bothered him to no end. He would take his slow time in killing the person that caused it. He watched her chest rise and fall even now with shallow breaths as she glanced up at him from her seat on the bench in front of the hearth. Her wide eyes darted back to the bed and then back again to him.
The chains now lay in a pile on the floor next to the bed. The vile things looked snakelike now and even made Rourke himself cringe. He tore his gaze from them and looked back at her. He wanted to take her into his arms, but he needed to get answers first. If any. Rourke sighed. At least she had stopped crying. A good sign she was calmer. Her tears bothered him.
“You must recall something, Alexa!” He softened the last when she flinched under his bark. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Her lip trembled anew with her deep breaths. Where was his strong hellion now? He sighed heavily and tried again, “Could have been their scent? Mayhap on their hands when they covered your mouth. Or the size of them? Was naught familiar?”
“I told you, it was too dark!” She yelled at him. Yet, her face scrunched up slightly and Rourke knew she was thinking and a spark of hope lit inside him. She just needed some prodding to jog her memory. She was not a Saxon woman prone to faints nor was faint of heart. Goran’s words over her grief for her sister plus everything else he himself had subjected her to, came to him. This weakness he saw in her made him see just how vulnerable she truly was under that false brave front. He walked over and stood in front of her.
She looked lost in her deep concentration, and then she whispered hoarsely, “Wait…”
Rourke did not realize that he reached out and touched her exposed arm. A clammy coolness yet clung to her skin and she moved her arm away from him with a strangled cry. Rourke felt a pang lance through the present heaviness in his chest.
“Could be the slightest thing...” He offered, swallowing hard and knelt to one knee in front of her. When her wide amber eyes remained steady on him, he held his breath and wanted to kiss her right then.
“Sweet...bitter, then… rotten. Smelled awful.” Alexa whispered so low, he had to lean closer to hear. Rourke quickly frowned over the words that fell from her mouth. He took her small hand in his. This time she did not pull away from him. She clasped her other hand over their joined ones as a sparkle lit again in her amber depths.
“Rotten…”
Her warm breath bathed his face and he shook his head, waiting. He almost smiled when she gave him an exasperated frown for not understanding.
“Bitter and rotten. That’s it! ‘Twas the smell and taste of sulfur on the cloth… and their hands.” Alexa watched him oddly when the dark fury crossed his handsome face.
“What is it?” She asked and stood with him as he rose abruptly and stomped over to the chamber door. He threw it open, barked something to the guards there before he closed it again and turned back to her.
Alexa took a step back at the menacing scowl on his face.
She had no time to figu
re his intentions as he reached out for her and swept her up in a rough embrace against his chest. She could feel the tremor run through him as his hold tightened.
“Your things will be returned to our chamber at once. Every meal you take will be with me or one of my trusted guards. I assure you this will never happen again. Know that I protect what is mine.”
Although her mind swirled over his words, Alexa felt herself nod in agreement. His heavy breath fanned the top of her head. Pressed so tight against his chest all she could get out was a muffled mumble.
“I cannot understand you,” he murmured above her.
She pushed at him as hard as she could. He released her and she said, red faced, “’Tis no wonder being as you almost smothered me. Wouldst you not a care in not trying to crush the rest of the life out of me?” Alexa scolded him. His own face flushed a deeper shade. “What of the sulfur?” she continued over the awkward moment.
Rourke cleared the emotion from his throat. “Poison again. More lethal this time.” A puzzled expression marred her features and he pulled her back into his embrace, but with more care this time. “Sulfides are used in tanning. Orpiment substances. I know this and that smell well, for my mother was a tanner in William’s court during his dukedom.”
Alexa drew back with a gasp at the wealth of information he’d just given her. She stood there baffled as a knock came to the door. Rourke let Goran in. She heard him repeating everything to him before both men turned to her. Unease settled in her gut again at their expressions.
“I will not have you suffer the same fate as that of your sister and father. This murderer will be found by the dawn.” Rourke’s angry words filled the chamber.
Alexa’s hand flew to her chest as she gawked at him, horrified. “The same fate as my father? Lisbeth? What of do you speak?”
“Aye. I have had a few suspicions and wanted to be sure before I voiced them to anyone.” Rourke continued over the displeased looks she and Goran shot him. “And I am glad I did not for they were unfounded. Matters not who I believed may have been behind these acts. What matters is I erred in my judgment and it nearly cost you your life.” Rourke did meet and hold her gaze then. The fire was back in her eyes and the fingers gripping the trim at the neck of her tunic was the only sign she gave that she was bothered by his words.
Alexa too stunned by what he was saying, was, momentarily speechless.
“We will need to plan a careful and well executed trap.” The coldness of his tone and the expression upon his face added to the chill curling around her heart. That look alone would give any of his enemies pause.
Alexa found her voice. “How are we supposed to do that if you fail to tell us of whom it is you suspect or suspected? And why think you my father and Lisbeth’s deaths were no accidents?” She arched her own brows at his one and continued, “And for how long have you known this and been privy to this information?”
Rourke heard the anger in her anxiety filled tone and the look she was giving him confirmed it. There was no easy way and having almost lost her, there was no longer time to tip toe around the matter.
“Your answers one at a time. For the trap, it will be done with your help.”
Alexa's mouth fell open and her gaze swept from his dark scowl to the matching one on Goran’s face, then back again as he went on.
“As much as I dislike it ‘tis the only way. Soon enough you will see the reasoning of it. I will be right there through the whole of it. No further harm will come to you, Alexa. On that you have my word.”
Alexa closed her gaping mouth on the sound of her name again from his mouth. It was a firm caress. She asked after a nervous swallow, “Will you not tell us who you did suspect?”
“Your maidservant.”
Alexa’s eyes widened as she stumbled back and sputtered, a look of horror upon her face.
Rourke raised a hand, explaining, “She is very close to you and seemed the likely one.”
Alexa leaned her neck back to look at him when he approached her. She saw truth and no ill intent in his stormy green eyes. The look in them left her breathless and she knew.
He had deduced what any rational person would have. It could easily be seen how Camm would be the first person suspected. She was always by her side and had not only the easiest access to her, but the most trusted. Had she been in the same position as he, Alexa knew she would have thought the same. But, Camm meant her no ill and besides the hands that had covered her mouth had belonged to a man.
She said nothing of this to Rourke now and instead asked, her gaze unwavering on him. “Now. Lisbeth? My father?”
He placed both his hands on her shoulders. By the time he had finished with his explanation, Rourke had to catch her from falling when her knees buckled beneath the weight of the news.
TWENTY-ONE
Cleaning his blade Rourke grunted in anger, nearly pricking the meaty part of his palm with the tip of the steel blade. Two days had passed and the killer was still not in his grasp. And that did not sit well with him.
All of Alexa’s belongings had been returned to their chamber that night and although he slept beside her at night, he came to their chamber long after she was asleep. The killer would not strike if he was near. So, they followed the plan they’d agreed on and he left her alone for most of the day Or made the killer think she was being left alone and to make it appear as if all was well.. Rourke had his trusted guards watching their chamber at all times.
Glancing over at her now, he could see the anger riding her stiff back where she was seated at the window.
He found himself struggling with the emotions that surfaced within him in her presence. They still had not spoken much and he knew why. He could not change it so they both suffered through the awkward silences.
Rourke busied himself with the daily going ons by having his most trusted men in and out of the room to keep himself occupied and distracted with her so close when he took the evening meal with her.
Whereas Alexa busied herself with watching him in her anger and upset. She was mad that he’d withheld the information over her family’s murders. He knew a part of her still refused to believe it as much as that part of her that had no choice but to believe it.
She did not embroider to pass the time as she had made it clear to him, she did not know how. He knew the hellion had lied. She’d stitched his new tunics with no problem when she’d tried to escape.
Still, he’d known she was not one to sit idly by whiling her days away on stitching tapestries and the like. Not that there was anything wrong with it. But it simply was not her and he found he liked that. Save the fact, he was not so sure he’d want her where she really wished to be- the practice field.
Tonight he had not asked his men to enter and he’d come to the chamber earlier. With a disgruntled grunt, he set the blade and oiled rag atop the chest and quickly washed his hands in the nearby washbowl. He then walked over to the table set up before the low fire burning in the hearth and sat down on the bench.
Rourke called out, “Come. Sit and sup before our meal grows cold.”
Alexa left the window and took her seat. He need not tell her twice. She was starving. Her appetite had finally returned to normal. The past two days she’d still not eaten much with so much happening and being so nervous in his presence did not help. She was not so sure she liked these new feelings.
Alexa bit into one of her treats, a sweet wafer.
Rourke frowned over the pleasurable sound of enjoyment that came from her. Irked that it stirred his groin, his tone came out more gruffly than intended.
“What is that?”
Alexa frowned and gave him and look in return that said he should have known. “A sweet wafer.”
He surprised her when he leaned forward and reached for one and popped the whole thing into his mouth. After a moment, he said, “Tart.”
‘Tart to you. Sweet to me.”
He grunted and leaned back, but not before he picked up two more. Her lips twitch
ed as she watched him. She popped a berry into her mouth and lowered her eyes from him.
Rourke flinched. He liked her eyes on him. His body heated up. The look she had sent him was softer.
She ate a few berries and reached for the strips of beef. Rourke tried to find a comfortable position with his back to the wall so he could watch her at leisure. She ignored him and it irritated him further. She took a nibble at the beef first before she ate one sliver, then the next.
Never had he thought eating the way she chewed the beef could be so sensual. Rourke did not know that he leaned forward as she slowly continued to eat.
But Alexa noticed. She watched him with a hot open gaze as she pulled more and more meat from the platter.
Soon enough it was clean and she reached for the pitcher to fill her cup. She drank half; the warm wine warming her senses and belly, all the while her eyes on him.
Posed in that position he seemed to favor after eating, Alexa let her eyes rove slowly over his large frame.
Up his legs, thighs, over his hips and flat stomach, to the open collar of his tunic showing his bronzed skin and a few light golden hairs on his chest. Then up to his whiskers to those red lips- more red now from his drink of the wine and eating berries, to end at his green eyes-which were open and aflame on her.
Alexa swallowed hard the last of the wine in her mouth and nearly choked.
Rourke’s lips parted. “Good to see your appetite back.”
His deep husky tone sent shivers of warmth down to the pit of her belly. Alexa let out a sigh and was disappointed when he jerked back with a groan and closed his eyes.
She knew he was awake. She did not wish for the remainder of the evening to be spent in silence as it had been the past two evenings and heard herself asking, “Were you born mean?” She knew he heard her, but he took his sweet time in responding. She wanted to talk and needed him to.
“Is it not written somewhere that all of us Normans are born that way and with a fork from hell in each hand?”
