Brianna slipped her fingers from Simon's hand to frame his face. "We have back one of the treasures de la Roche stole. And we shall find a safe home for the rest eventually. Only finding the help we need to oppose the Frenchman stands in the way of our triumph over him."
"Will we find that help?"
"I believe so." She offered him an encouraging smile that suddenly shifted to something more passionate.
"Brianna," his gaze clung to her face and she saw an echo of her own desire. "You must stop looking at me in that way."
The beauty of his lips held her spellbound. She wanted to reach out and touch his lower lip with her tongue, to taste him as she had before. "In what way?"
"As though you want to devour me."
"But I do want that." The sound of the rain pelting the top of their shelter mixed with the scents of damp earth and the warmth of the fire, wreathing them in a mystical world of sensation. "I feel as though we are alone in a wild secret garden at the beginning of time, when anything is possible and nothing is forbidden."
Simon groaned and turned his head and kissed the palm of her injured hand where it touched his cheek. "Is anything possible?"
A shiver of sensation rippled through her fingers and up her arm. "Yes."
He pressed kisses down her palm to her wrist. His lips lingered on her flesh just long enough for her to feel their heat before he moved toward her forearm and elbow. Her pulse leapt at the touch of his lips.
He lifted his head, holding her captive with his eyes as he pulled her closer until she could feel the heat of his body against her own. Everywhere he touched burned. A shudder ran through her as he brought his lips to hers. "If anything is possible, then I don't want to think about my vows, the brotherhood, de la Roche, or anything else at the moment. Only you. Only us."
"Is there an us?" The unexpected words came out in a breathy rush.
"I wish I could say aye." He looked as though he'd been slashed with a sword. And she knew why. He was thinking about Teba. Their failure there would temper both their lives forever. "Neither of us knows how a battle will go. In two days' time, we will triumph or we will fail."
She nodded. "I don't want to think about the future either. I only want to feel."
Raw, unveiled passion lit his eyes — an almost animal intensity that stole her ability to breathe. He looked at her as he never had before — as though he wanted more than her touch, more than her kiss, more even than access to the secret passageways of her body. He looked as though he wanted her soul.
And she would give it to him. The realization sent a white-hot bolt of desire careening through her. He brought a hand up to caress her cheek and pushed his fingers back through the thickness of her hair. The sensation of his fingers on her scalp set her afire as he drew her near. "I think I shall—"
"Please, Simon, don't think. Thinking always leads us into trouble. Just feel."
He smiled. "As you wish."
An earthy, fresh scent surrounded her as he slowly let her hair slide through his fingertips. She found she was holding her breath as one hand left her hair to cup her shoulder then slide down her arm to the laces of her gown. The garment left her body, followed by her chemise as though they had melted away. When nothing covered her except her shoes and hose, his hands ran down the length of her legs to remove her boots. Then slowly, sensually, he rolled her hose down one by one, and caressing the bottom of her feet as he went, he freed her from the last remnants of her clothes.
With a seductive smile that warmed her all the more, Simon pulled back, and sitting on his knees, he removed his shirt and his boots and breeches until he was naked before her.
Despite the rain, the air was not cold in the private little shelter he had built for them. The fire flickered, sending its warming rays through the small space, illuminating his body in pale shades of orange and gold. She could only stare at him, enchanted by the hungry passion in his eyes.
Desire uncoiled deep within her body, sent frissons of warmth sliding through her blood. Her heart thundered in her chest as she watched him watch her.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered as he leaned over her to plant a kiss on her right nipple.
Brianna gasped at the unexpected contact, but before she could become accustomed to the sensation, his hands slid down her sides, forming against her thighs, gently urging her legs apart. Moving between her knees, he leaned forward. She strained upward to kiss him. His mouth slanted over hers and he forced her back onto the ferns.
He settled urgently between her thighs. Naked flesh pressed against naked flesh. She felt the thudding of his heart against her own chest. His hardness probed the wetness between her legs, but he did not enter. Instead he teased her with small circular motions until desire flared beyond her control.
She cried out with almost painfully throbbing need. His lips captured hers and moved in a gentle, sensual rhythm that left her breathless as he trailed kisses from her lips to her throat, each one like a spark against her heated flesh. He explored the pale curve of her throat, her collarbone, past her breast and to her nipple.
He flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud. Her breath came in hot, harsh gasps as he continued his slow seduction, laving one nipple then the other. She arched upward, craving his touch, as need such as she'd never experienced before washed through her in waves.
When she thought she would die from wanting, his tongue left her nipples to trail flames of desire down her tingling, burning flesh. And as he nipped and tasted, his fingers explored her flesh, finding places she'd never realized were sensitive to the touch: the inside of her elbow, the back of her knee, along the inside of her thigh.
He touched her until her skin fairly vibrated with tension; she grew hot and wet and desire was an insatiable need that threatened to tear her apart. Shamelessly, she opened herself to him. She clutched at his hand and guided it over her head where she held him captive. "Please, Simon, now. I must have you now."
She coiled her legs around his buttocks and guided his hardness toward the core of her womanhood. The warmth of the shelter wrapped around her as his hardness slipped inside her.
She gasped at the pleasure of it. The fullness. The rightness of this moment.
He moved slowly at first, allowing her to catch the rhythm, then he moved harder. In. Out. Long. Short. The ferns overhead were a blur of green above his shoulder, with every breath she took in the rich scent of earth and fresh green. The rustling of the leaves beneath the ferns was as sensual as his harsh breathing in her ear.
Her body tightened as a slow-burning desire built, higher and higher, bringing both desire and desperation. Her body quivered with each erotic sensation. She strained toward that cusp that would send her into splendor. Simon plunged inside her deep and hard, again and again, until she arched upward. She cried out her pleasure. Tears stung her eyes, blurred her vision as spasm after spasm tore through her.
His smile was savage as he moved harder, faster. He stiffened and then groaned. His body went taut as he released a cry that was both primitive and earthy into the night. A smile, the likes of which she had not seen before on Simon's face, touched his lips as he settled beside her on the ferns, rolling her with him so that they remained intimately connected even after their love-making was through.
His breathing was as ragged as her own as they lay there, listening to the sounds of the night. Her arms instinctively tightened about Simon's massive shoulders.
He lifted his head and looked down at her, his breathing labored. "Merciful heavens. You make love with as much passion as you fight."
"I hope that is a good thing?"
"Very good." He leaned down and kissed her, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth to shelter her from any chill that might follow the storm overhead.
"Then shall we continue our battle?"
He threw back his head and laughed. "Not now. I think it best if we both rest for a while." He lifted her off him, curling her against his side. His lips brushed her temple as he se
ttled her head on his shoulder. "I hope your hand was not hurt. We were very vigorous."
She nestled her cheek on his shoulder, running the tips of her fingers down the muscles of his chest in a loving caress. Drowsiness was already tugging at her as she murmured, "You didn't hurt me. I feel more at peace than I ever have before."
Simon gently stroked Brianna's hair back from her face as her breathing became even. He shouldn't have done this. He shouldn't have taken what she offered, but he couldn't have stopped himself. Brianna meant so much to him — so much more than he ever dared admit before. And now that he had taken her again, he knew he could never let her go.
He tightened his arm around her with yearning. But how could he commit to something so precious when it could all be taken away with the stroke of a sword? If Brianna's vision of the future came to pass, he would die. He could not offer her anything until after that battle came to pass, but he could make her happy in the moments they had left — however few or however many that might be.
Time was their enemy now.
In two days, they would either rest in eternal peace, or in each other's arms.
He knew which option he preferred.
Chapter Seventeen
"Brianna."
It was Simon's voice, but something was different. His voice vibrated with an unusual sound of eagerness and laughter. She opened her eyes. His face was different, too. He was laughing down at her, his eyes alight with a newfound joy she had never seen there before. In the moments between sleeping and waking, something had changed within him. Something that had been taken from him long ago had been returned.
"The rain has stopped. We must keep going if we are to make it to Pennyghael Abbey as planned."
She was naked beneath the cloak he'd spread over them last night. He was as gloriously naked as he had been when they'd made love. Early morning light filtered through the opening of their shelter, bathing Simon in a peach-colored glow that glinted in the darkness of his hair and turned his skin to a warm bronze. "You seem eager to go into battle when you are not even clothed yet."
He smiled. "I can dress faster than you can." He leaned down and kissed her with infinite sweetness. "And it's not the battle ahead that woke me from my dreams. It was you. I have never been this happy, Brianna." He pulled her into a sitting position. "But we must also remain vigilant. Complacency has injured many a knight."
She instantly sobered. "Do you think de la Roche is out there even now, watching us?"
The smile did not leave Simon's eyes as he lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her re-bandaged palm. "He's out there somewhere, of that we can be certain. Because of that, I want you to do something for me." He released her hand and turned to the saddlebag he'd set near the shelter's opening. He fumbled around inside the bag before he withdrew the Grail and handed the vessel to her. "I want you to carry this with you."
"The Grail?" She gently touched the satiny smoothness of the ancient cup. She frowned as the morning light gilded the artifact, turning it silver, then gold. She felt captured by the Grail's ever-changing color. "It appears as though it is a humble vessel one moment, then a glorious treasure the next. Do you see the same thing?"
"Aye, perhaps because it was the cup of a carpenter and a king." He shrugged. "All I know is that I am grateful it healed you and Bella and so many of my men." He placed his hand over hers against the cup. "I want you to carry it."
"Because of my dream?"
He kissed her again, quick and hard. "I want you to carry the Grail because I trust you to keep it safe."
The vessel warmed beneath their joined hands, filling her with a sense of peace and hope that they would not only triumph over de la Roche, but they would return the Grail and Joyeuse to the Templar treasure hold, keeping them safe for all time. "How close are we to Pennyghael?"
"I'm not certain. Maybe a day's journey until we get through these foothills. Another half day across the open land."
They were close. So very close to either success or failure. "Then that leaves us only half a day before de la Roche's army should arrive to scout the location and gather more men." Brianna scooted from beneath the cloak he'd laid over them. "We must get started if we are to have the best advantage in this battle."
He smiled mischievously. "Not just yet," he pulled her to him until the warmth of his breath brushed her ear and his arms formed a deliciously secure haven around her. "We have time for this." His teeth gently nibbled at the lobe of her ear.
A tingle of heat ran through her. "What about vigilance?"
His hands cupped her breasts. "As I said before, we need to enjoy the moments between now and then." His thumb and forefinger plucked at her sensitive nipples. "Do we have an accord?"
An aching fire throbbed between her thighs at his touch. "In all things."
His hand slid down from her taut stomach, then further down to tangle in her soft curls. While his fingertips delicately circled and rubbed, his thumb pressed skillfully against her core. He opened her legs and lifted her into the air, then slowly slid into her, filling her.
"Hold me tight," he said as breathlessly as she felt.
She did and forgot about leaving. She forgot about de la Roche. She forgot about everything except the feel of him. She closed her eyes, arched her head back as she moved up and down, feeling a slow, sensual caress that stoked her desire.
She could feel Simon's heart pounding against her breasts, feel the rising and falling of his chest with each labored breath. He brought her closer with a groan and she could feel the hair surrounding his manhood brush against that most sensitive part of her. He moved beneath her, matching her rhythm, driving deeper.
Brianna clutched at his shoulders, feeling something coiling inside her, wanting to be let out.
Simon arched her against him, bending his mouth to envelop her breast, nipping, suckling, until she sobbed at the exquisite sensations building inside. The sensation was too hot, too hard, too intense to hold on any longer.
She gave herself over to sensation and a savage cry tore from her lips, followed by Simon's, mixing their voices, pleasure, and release.
She collapsed against Simon, her head cradled on his chest, struggling to catch her breath. He cupped the back of her head with one hand, her buttocks with the other and held tight. As soon as she could breathe again, she lifted her head to find him as breathless as she was. He smiled down at her with that same laughter she'd seen earlier. "I think I will enjoy the moments between now and then very much."
He laughed softly. "So will I, my beautiful warrior."
The smile faded from her lips. That was the second time he'd called her beautiful. But she knew the truth. "You do not have to say such things to me, Simon. I need no pretty compliments. My father taught me to be honest about myself."
He stared at her with astonishment in his eyes. "He taught you what?"
"That I'm no beauty."
With a finger beneath her chin, he returned her gaze to his. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"
She shook her head, suddenly breathless again at the fire in his eyes as he studied her face, her hair, her body still intimately pressed against his.
He tugged at a lock of her hair that had fallen over her shoulder. "Your hair shimmers in the light when you move your head. In the sunshine, your tresses turn to radiant fire." His finger stroked the curve of her brow. "Eyes so green, they remind me of the velvety hills of Glencoe in the spring. So beautiful." He stroked the side of her cheek with the back of his forefinger. "Your skin is as soft as the down on a bird's wings and it makes me long to touch you every time you draw near." His hands went to her shoulders and slowly caressed their way to her hands. He took both hands in his own and brought them up to his lips. He placed a kiss on the back of each hand. "Your hands, no matter their condition, are an extension of the warmth and honor and grace inside you. Aye, they wield a sword, but not for personal glory, only to aid those in need and to protect those you love."
She coul
d feel tears burning behind her eyes and she quickly closed her lids to hide them. His words touched her, but it was the sincerity in the eyes looking into her own that sent a spiral of joy rippling through her, and the warmth of something else, something special that she did not want to name.
"Open your eyes, Brianna. Look at me."
Her eyes opened to find him smiling down at her.
"When I look at you I see beauty and strength. Your father was mistaken about so many things."
This time she could not stop the tears that came to her eyes. Her throat tightened. "You have no idea how much that means to me."
He gazed at her with surprise and anger and something else… "I need to ask you something that has been weighing on my mind for some time now." He hesitated a moment before he continued. "When I stopped by Rosslyn Castle to find you, your father talked about you as though you were dead. His steward, Judson, was the one who let me know where I might find you." His voice was silky smooth, almost a whisper. "What happened after you returned home from Teba? Your father used to dote on you. That he would say cruel things to you and cut you out of his life makes no sense."
Brianna tried to smile, but found her lips were trembling. Her heart pounded jerkily with a queer sort of panic. "I can't talk about my father. I won't."
Simon nodded. "When you are ready to talk about it, I am here to listen." He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her cheek with velvet tenderness.
Her throat tightened all the more. Not once during the past several days in Simon's presence had she thought about her father's abandonment. She'd thought only about living life with a purpose once more. The purpose Simon had given back to her. She frowned and brought her gaze back to him. Perhaps she did own him an explanation.
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