“Getting salt,” she responded instantly, but her hands refused to do anything but hold Pudding. “What are you doing here?” She felt his hot gaze on the back of her head.
“I want to warn you,” he whispered.
“Warn me?” she wondered, trying to keep the breathlessness from her voice. “Against what?”
“You shouldn’t be alone. Not ever.”
He must surely be speaking about himself as the threat. One touch, one kiss and she was doomed. As it was now, all she could think of was the way his lips had touched hers, the way he had held her tightly to himself. Pudding’s head nuzzled her chin, seeking more attention, but her mind was occupied by Logan.
“You’re in danger.”
It was as if he poured a bucket of cold water over her. The words mocked her. You shouldn’t be here alone. She whirled and stepped away from him. Her bottom bumped up against the bag of salt behind her. “You already told me that and quite adequately proved why,” she snapped. “I don’t need any more of your lessons.” Holding Pudding tightly against her pounding, furious heart, she pushed by him and stormed toward the stairs.
Suddenly he stepped in front of her, blocking her way with a wall of solid flesh. “I’m not here to teach you a lesson. Just to warn you. Someone wants to kill you.”
“Kill me?” she asked, startled. “But who?”
“I overheard a man and a woman talking. I didn’t see who they were.”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t have any enemies,” she snapped. In the torchlight, she watched his eyes narrow.
“I suppose it’s one of your closest friends who is laying siege to the castle,” Logan quipped.
His sarcasm irritated her further. “No enemy can breech the walls of this castle,” Solace retorted.
“You know better than that, Solace,” Logan whispered. “That’s why you’re so frightened.”
“I’m not frightened!”
“Then why are you trembling?”
Only then did Solace realize she was shivering. But she also knew it had nothing to do with being frightened, or with the cold. She was quiet for a long moment, trying to calm her trembling. “Do you think it was one of Barclay’s men?” Solace wondered. “The murderer?”
Logan stepped back, into the shadows. “I don’t know,” he answered. “But I don’t see why he would want you dead. You pose no threat to him.”
Solace’s pride was pricked. “I’m heir to this castle,” she said in defense.
“But your father is still alive and so is your stepmother. You’re third in line.”
Solace’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know who would want me dead,” she admitted.
“Until we can find out who it was, you’ll have to take precautions. Don’t take this lightly. They meant business, whoever it was,” Logan said. “I’ll stay with you until you’re done getting the salt, but –”
“You don’t have to watch over me like a child,” she said.
“Not like a child, Solace,” he said patiently. “Like a woman whose life is in danger.”
Danger? she thought, a scowl shadowing her brow. The thought seemed too ridiculous. But Logan said he had overheard two people. Why should she doubt him? Suddenly, a tremor of apprehension shot through her. If someone was trying to kill her, what could she do? She couldn’t expect Logan to trail her all day. Suddenly, an idea came to her. Maybe there was something Logan could do. She tried to see his face, but could not. The shadows hid him too well. “Do you know how to use that sword?” she wondered.
There was a long moment of silence, and he shifted his weight slightly. “Yes.”
She nervously wet her lips with her tongue. “Will you teach me how to defend myself?” When he didn’t answer, she continued quickly, “I can’t expect someone to be with me at all times. And I might be safer... well, I might be better off if I knew just enough to protect myself. It might be –”
His finger touched her lips in a motion to still them. “I’ll teach you,” he agreed.
The feel of his finger against her lips sent a quivering charge through her. He seemed to keep it there a second longer than need be before he pulled away from her. “Collect your salt,” he said. “And I’ll meet you.”
“Tonight?” she asked, strangely anxious.
“You would train under the moonlight, alone with a stranger?” he wondered.
“No,” she answered. “Alone with you.”
***
Solace’s words flattered Logan. She trusted him enough to be alone with him. And yet, she was foolhardy to trust him at all. She didn’t know him. She had no clue that he was the one who had killed the dungeon guard. She had no knowledge of what he was planning. What would she think if she knew? he wondered. What would she think about giving him her trust then?
Even though they had agreed to meet behind the mews after the meal, Logan realized Solace would be coming to him in the dark. That was too much temptation for fate to overlook, too much chance for a murderer to be lurking in the shadows. He had learned long ago to take matters into his own hands, not to wait on fate. She was too cruel too often. So, after his meal, Logan placed himself in an obvious position, lounging against the wall just outside the Great Hall.
He turned expectantly at the soft tread of footsteps, but felt only disappointment at the sight of Beth approaching from down the hallway. Her face was lit with a sly smile, her eyes lidded with coyness. Logan gritted his teeth as he bowed slightly.
Her grin was annoying. “Looking for me, Logan?” she wondered.
“Alas, no,” Logan answered, charmingly. “But had I known you would be up at this late hour, I would have been.”
She smiled, batting her lashes at him. “Then you’re here to meet with someone else? I’m disappointed.”
“You’re also betrothed.” Logan found himself thankful for that fact.
She ran a hand along the length of his arm. “One night of passion does not break a betrothal.”
“Unless he finds out.”
“And who will tell him?”
“Not I, certainly,” Logan admitted. “But there are many eyes and ears in a castle, m’lady.”
“We will be discreet,” she said, smiling seductively.
He felt about as aroused as a dead rat. He raised his eyes suddenly to glance over Beth’s shoulder and caught a movement in the shadows. He saw Solace staring at him with the largest eyes he had ever seen. He saw hurt in them, confusion and pain, before she bowed her head and turned away.
The thought of bedding Beth vanished before the disappointment he had caused Solace. “Excuse me,” he said to Beth, dismissing her completely, and moved after Solace. He easily caught up with her in the hallway, grabbing her arm gently. “Solace,” he murmured. “I was waiting for you.”
She looked up at him through thick lashes. “And you found my sister. I understand. If Beth –”
Logan took her hand in his and gently raised it to his lips. “Beth found me. I was waiting for you.” He stared hard at her, his eyes shining like silver. They moved over her face like a caress, touching her eyes, her nose, her lips. “Shall we?” he wondered.
Solace stared at him dubiously. How could she doubt her beauty, Logan wondered. How could she believe he would willingly pick Beth over her? He had seen hundreds like Beth. All fawning about him as if he were a new pup, a prize or even a servant. But never had they looked on him as an equal. Only the peasants had gazed at him as a prospective husband. Logan wondered fleetingly if Solace even knew what she wanted of him. He could show her, take the time to teach her the ways of lovemaking... if he wasn’t looking for Peter.
Solace cast a glance over her shoulder as if she expected to find Beth watching, but no one was there, just the empty corridor.
Finally, Logan gently tucked Solace’s small hand in the crook of his arm and urged her on with one of his most devastating grins.
It worked. She started forward almost immediately, a shy smile lurking at the corners of her lips.<
br />
Logan led her back to the mews. As they entered the falcon training grounds, Logan explained, “The first and most important thing is to scream and kick and do everything you can to get away.”
Solace nodded like an obedient student.
“The problem comes when you are caught off guard. So, you have to try to anticipate the unexpected. Notice who is around you, friend and foe alike. Your enemies might be posing as friends. We don’t know yet. But let’s say you’re caught off guard. Your best bet is to try to knee a man between his legs as hard as you can and run. Understand?”
Solace nodded.
“Let’s try something. Come here.” When she moved in front of him, he turned her around so her back was to him. “Say your attacker approaches from behind.” He grabbed her around the neck, not too tightly, not too loosely. He couldn’t help but notice how smooth her skin was. Her hair brushed his arm. It was as soft as velvet. “What would you do?” he asked, drawing her close against his body.
For a long moment, she did nothing. Her small hands instinctively came up to grip his arm. Finally, she whispered, “I...I would fight and try to scream.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, but let’s say he tightens his grip and you can’t scream.” Her hair smelled faintly of roses. He moved his nose closer to her hair to smell the fragrance. He felt her lean back against him slightly, barely noticeably, but close enough that he could feel the length of her against him. His hold on her tightened. His body instantly responded to holding her. Lord, how he wanted her.
One of her hands caressed his arm. He felt the movement even through his tunic. The things he could teach her!
“I... I don’t know,” she whispered.
She would die, he thought. And, strangely, it angered him. “You’re lucky this man doesn’t have a dagger or you would be dead already. Let’s say he wants something else.” He bent his head to kiss her neck, just behind her ear, and she gasped in surprise. He turned her face to his, claiming her lips in one hungry move. He kissed her with control, with expertise, trying desperately to keep control of his emotions, to teach her.
But she wasn’t reacting like a woman trapped by a rapist. She was reacting like a woman who wanted to be ravished. She groaned slightly, and without removing his lips from hers, Logan encouraged, “What do you do?”
No response. He pulled back to see that her eyes were still closed, her face tilted up towards his, her lips waiting. Logan took the invitation, easily parting her lips with his and thrusting his tongue inside. He reached down to cup her breast, squeezing, feeling the hard nipple beneath her dress. She groaned and thrust her chest into his hand.
Logan could hardly control himself. He ran a palm over her nipple, gently caressing the roundness of her breast. Her mouth tasted like honey; her lips were so soft, so willing! He wanted to taste the rest of her, to let his hands claim her as his own. He ran a hand down her flat stomach, toward the area he knew she wanted him to touch. He felt her thrust her hips and his manhood throbbed against his leggings. “You like this, don’t you?” he murmured in her ear. He felt her nod. “Good,” he whispered. “Then when the rapist comes to claim you, you don’t have to fight. Just enjoy.”
She stiffened immediately and he was sorry he had been so cold to her. He wanted to touch her, feel her passion. Instead, he prepared for her reaction. She would struggle or try to elbow him. Logan was caught totally off guard when she stomped down on his foot. Hard.
He released her, trying to hide the excruciating pain flaring in his foot.
Solace whirled and stormed away.
“Good!” Logan called out after her. “That’s exactly what you should have done in the first place.”
But she didn’t stop. He watched her until she turned the corner, heading toward the keep. He had gone too far. He knew it then and he knew it now. He shook his head. She had been in his arms, so close. And she’d smelled so damn good, felt so soft. He wanted more of her. God help him, but he wanted all of her.
***
Graham grinned as he watched Solace storm into the darkness of the night. For an instant, he envisioned going after her. Instead, he reached inside his leggings and stroked himself.
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER TWELVE
Baron Edwin Barclay glared up at Castle Fulton from atop his warhorse, cursing for the thousandth time. His long blond hair was tossed about by the wind, the wild strands forming a loose halo around his head, his pleasant features and strong form giving him the appearance of a saint. He narrowed his eyes, staring up at Fulton’s tall towers and gatehouse. He cursed again.
“M’lord!” a rider called as he halted his steed beside Baron Barclay’s white warhorse. “There is no sign of the drawbridge being lowered. I’m afraid we’ve failed.”
Barclay’s hand was swift and his fist was powerful as he struck the man, sending him rolling off his horse to the ground. “He has failed. He must have been discovered and killed. But I will not fail. I will take Castle Fulton and make Farindale grovel before me.”
The man wiped the blood from the corner of his lip and stood. “Yes, m’lord.”
Barclay ignored him, his cold blue eyes focused on Castle Fulton. “You will fall,” he promised, his burning eyes looking more like those of a demon than of a saint.
***
Late the next day, Solace found herself standing before the chapel. The echo of indiscernible voices drifted out of the church. Often in times of confusion she found herself standing here, as she had when her father had gone to France to fight and left her in Alissa’s care. She wanted to go in and find Father Davis. He had always been there to comfort her and talk with. But she knew he would be busy now with the sick and injured. He wouldn’t have time for her. And she needed to speak to someone about... about the emotions Logan aroused within her. She wanted to know why he affected her as he did, what the power he held over her was.
With a heavy sigh, she looked away from the towering steeple and prepared to turn away when a voice called to her. Solace’s gaze moved over the entrance, searching for the owner of the voice. It was only when the call came again that she followed it far up into the bell tower. Father Davis stood there, waving down at her, motioning for her to come inside.
With a grin, Solace hiked up her skirts and ran within. She raced up the aisle, moving quickly by the pews, and stopped before the altar to genuflect. She darted to her left, pushing through a door, and climbed the spiraling staircase behind it. The decrepit wooden steps shook beneath her feet as she took the stairs two at a time until she reached the top.
“Easy, child,” Father Davis called to her as the bell tower platform rocked slightly from her enthusiastic entrance. He was an old man with a bald head ringed by snow-white hair. He wore a simple brown robe. His gentle brown eyes lit as they saw her.
She smiled at him as she approached, slowing her run to a walk.
“You look like a gypsy,” he said lovingly, “with that glow in your eyes. I always said those were dangerous eyes.”
“You always said they were beautiful eyes.”
“And they are,” he admitted. “It’s been a long time, Solace. Why haven’t you come up to see me?”
“I know the injured are growing. I know you’re busy,” she said, leaning out the window and staring down at the inner ward. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Child,” he said patiently, “you are anything but a disturbance.”
She cast a grin at him. “I’ve truly missed you.”
Father Davis nodded his agreement. “These godforsaken sieges. It was on a day like this another lifetime ago that I witnessed another siege.”
“My father,” she said solemnly.
“Your father,” he agreed, resting his arms on the ledge beside her and staring out at the cloudy, gray day. “The only good to come from that siege was you. I can’t help but wonder about this one, what with your father gone.”
“He’ll come back,” Solace said. “And trap
Barclay’s army and wipe them all out. All we have to do is hold the castle until then.”
Father Davis stared at her for a long time. “This is a messy business, Solace. I want you to promise me that if they enter the castle, you’ll run.”
“Run?” she turned to him, shocked.
“Run to safety. I want you out of the castle if they enter. You are heir to Fulton, Solace. It will be you that Barclay is looking for.”
She waved the issue aside with a disbelieving flick of her wrist. “And where am I supposed to run?” she wondered.
Father Davis seized her arm, squeezing it firmly. “To your father, Solace. You must find him. And trust no one. No one, do you hear?”
“You’re scaring me,” she admitted, trying to pull her arm free.
“Good. That’s exactly what this stubborn little head needs. A good dose of reality.” His eyes grew distant as a faraway look seeped into them. “These days, it’s hard enough to find good fighters, let alone men who won’t turn their back on you for a gold piece. And gold is something that Barclay has plenty of.”
“Father, are you... feeling all right?” Solace wondered. It was odd for him to be so concerned with matters of warfare and not matters of the spirit.
Father Davis nodded. “Yes,” he said, rubbing his bald head. “I’m sorry.”
Solace knew she could not talk to him about Logan, not now. He had too much on his mind. Perhaps the tide was turning. Perhaps now Father Davis needed her to listen to him for a change.
He suddenly seemed so old, so tired. Solace stayed and comforted him, listening to his concerns. By the time she left the chapel an hour later, the sky had darkened. She felt as lost as when she had entered. She needed to talk to someone. Alissa wouldn’t understand. Beth wouldn’t take the time to listen. She wished her father were in the castle; even though he was seldom home, she had always been able to talk to him.
Then, her eyes lit and her gaze turned up to the battlements. There had always been one person with whom she enjoyed spending time, who was like a brother to her, who always took the time to listen.
Box Set - Knights of Passion (7 Novels) Page 73
