The Thief's Countess (Border Series Book 1)

by Cecelia Mecca

  “I’m deadly serious, Sara. So listen carefully.”

  Her heart would surely stop beating.

  “I’m going to make love to you. And afterward, we’re going to get out, dry off, and lay in your bed to discuss exactly what that means. But for now, please try to forget about everything except the feel of my cock sliding deep inside you.”

  This time, Sara’s response was to lean forward and take his mouth with hers. She’d never wanted anything more in her life.

  The moment he opened the door to her chamber and saw her in the tub, Geoffrey’s intentions for coming to Sara that eve had been completely forgotten. Hardening immediately, he’d thought of nothing other than being inside of her. The accusing look she’d given him had made him reconsider—mayhap it would be best to start from the beginning, explaining his presence and begging for forgiveness. But the sight of her warm, wet body was too alluring.

  Their talk could wait.

  Poised above her in the tub, he guided his tip to her opening, teasing his way inside. Sara reached behind him, grasped his buttocks with both hands, and closed her fingers around him.

  He filled her with one thrust, and Sara pulled him closer still. Letting out a groan of pleasure, he relished the feeling a moment longer before moving.

  Thrusting with increasing speed, his knuckles turning white as they grasped the side of the tub, Geoffrey vaguely heard the sound of water splashing on the floor.

  “Sara.” His voice was thick with desire.

  Sara met his every thrust with one of her own, her hips pushing toward him.

  “Please, Geoffrey,” she begged. Sara had clearly forgotten, at least for the moment, that she was thoroughly vexed with him.

  Relishing the sound of his name on her lips, he gave her what she asked for. Reaching below the water with one hand, his knees supporting his weight, Geoffrey found the nub and pressed and circled it with his thumb.

  Getting closer to his peak, he pulled out almost completely, leaving only the tip inside her, and ever so slowly re-entered her tight sheath.

  A low groan told him to repeat the gentle teasing, and he did. This time he pressed harder with his thumb, and when her hands squeezed tightly around his buttocks, pulling him closer still, Geoffrey knew she was near her release. He removed his hand to plunge deep into her.

  Sara’s hands squeezed tighter around his buttocks as she began to pulse around him. The sensations were too much. Geoffrey spilled his seed deep inside her.

  “Ahh God.” He held still then, both he and Sara continuing to throb as they remained joined. Shuddering, he lowered his mouth, brushing his lips to hers.

  “How do you feel?”

  Closing her eyes, she released him and laid her head against the back of the tub. “Well-pleasured.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Standing, the awkward position becoming hard on his knees, Geoffrey looked down at the noblewoman beneath him.

  How could he have ever imagined he’d let her go?

  Climbing out of the tub, he grabbed the nearby drying cloth. “Do you mind?”

  “Kind of you to ask at least.” Finally, blessedly, she smiled. “Nay, I don’t mind.”

  He dried quickly, then reached out a hand to Sara and pulled her up next to him. Giving into temptation under the guise of drying her off, Geoffrey used the cloth to touch every inch of her body.

  Once they were both thoroughly dry, Geoffrey lifted Sara up in one swift movement, carried her to the bed, and pulled back the covers with his free hand. After laying her down in the middle of the bed, Geoffrey stretched out beside her and covered them both with the blankets. Although the fire in the hearth warmed the large chamber considerably, the crisp autumn air made its way inside nonetheless.

  Unaccustomed to intimacy beyond the sex act, he positioned a pillow behind him and lay with his face just inches from her breasts. Lord help him, it was a tempting sight.

  Propping herself on one elbow, Sara got straight to the point.

  “What was that?”

  “Well, my lady, some call it breeding, others lovemaking, and still others, though much cruder…”

  “You can stop there. What exactly are you doing in my chamber, seducing me in my bath after telling me … let me get this right. ‘My only regret is that you mistook it for something more.’”

  Wincing at the sound of his harsh words, which he’d regretted almost since the instant he’d uttered them, he gestured around the large chamber. “A four-poster bed with feathered pillows, rich tapestries, a hot bath, for God’s sake.” But he’d come here to ask a question, and ask he would. “You’d really risk giving all this up?”

  Sara sat up then, her barely toweled hair still damp and curling in waves around her, and looked him squarely in the eyes.

  He knew before she answered.

  Or thought he did, for the answer she gave him was so unexpected Geoffrey could only stare, dumbfounded.

  28

  “I don’t need to.”

  She’d changed her mind? Of course, how could he have been foolish enough to think otherwise? Good sense had prevailed.

  Pushing back the coverlet, he began to rise when Sara pulled him back.

  “Nay, you misunderstand.”

  It was his turn to play the indignant, spurned lover. “What exactly do I misunderstand? That you hinted you might consider giving up your life as a countess to be my wife? What is it that I misunderstand, Sara?”

  Clenching his jaw, looking back at the beautiful, proud earl’s daughter, he cursed himself for a fool.

  She calmly replied, her hand still on his arm. “I don’t need to choose between you and Kenshire. There’ll be no wedding tomorrow.”

  That got his attention.

  “When the king’s messenger arrived with his congratulations on my marriage to Lyonsford, it finally became real.”

  “It?”

  “The wedding, the marriage. I mean, I wore my wedding dress for a fitting. Of course I knew the wedding was real. It’s just … I don’t know. Something about the missive jolted me. It was so final.”

  “As most weddings tend to be.”

  “And I should have been terrified at the thought of angering the king’s council. After all, the marriage was sanctioned.”

  “Was?”

  “Was.” Her beautiful face stared straight at him. “I sent a return message, thanking King Henry for his well wishes, but informing him I would not be marrying the Earl of Archbald.”

  He knew what she was saying but had a hard time grasping it. Could this be true?

  “I spoke with the earl, who is already on his way home. And none too happy, if truth be told.”

  “The ramifications, Sara…”

  “I know them well. But Lyonsford was placated slightly when he realized he’d be adding Caiser’s only southern holding to his own.”

  “You gave him Lincoln.”

  “I did. And relinquished two other properties back to the crown to appease the king over my broken betrothal. My father’s holdings are sizably smaller this evening.”

  She was looking at him with such apprehension that he suddenly remembered his original purpose.

  “I’m sorry, Sara.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything. For not trusting you to make your own decisions. For pushing you away.”

  He reached across the bed to hold her hands.

  “I came here tonight to tell you that I could never allow you to marry Lyonsford, or any man, consequences be damned. You’re mine.” He lifted a hand to his lips, kissed it, and turned it around to kiss her palm. Her wrist.

  “You’ve been mine since the day you walked down the stairs, more beautiful and proud than any woman I’d ever met. I just didn’t know it then.” He smiled. “But it’s good to know I don’t have to steal you tonight.”

  “Steal me?”

  He had never heard Sara shriek before.

  “There was no way you were getting married to Lyons
ford tomorrow. I love you, Sara. The only husband you’ll be taking is this border reiver, for better or worse.”

  Sara blessedly threw her arms around him.

  “I love you, Geoffrey. And I take back what I said. You are a reiver.”

  “Not for long.” He was having a hard time thinking straight with Sara’s naked body pressed against his own.

  “To me, always. You most definitely stole my heart.”

  Before he gave into temptation, he wanted to be sure she understood.

  “Sara. Will you be my wife?”

  “I thought you had an aversion to getting married.”

  “I thought so too, before I met you.”

  “Well then, my answer is yes.”

  “In that case,” he grinned wickedly, “let’s seal it with a kiss.”

  To which his saucy future bride responded, “Let’s seal it with something more than that.”

  Geoffrey made love to the woman who would be his wife, secure with the knowledge their adventures were just beginning.

  Epilogue

  With the wedding behind them, and Geoffrey’s siblings and extended family permanently residing at Kenshire, Sara sat with her new brother-in-law at the chess table after supper one evening.

  “I understand you’ve had some good news today.”

  “Aye.” Bryce considered his next move, serious as ever. “We’ve been granted permission from the crown to attack.”

  Sara frowned, unable to muster much enthusiasm at that news.

  “Geoffrey said as much at dinner. I’m happy for you, of course, but…” Trailing off, Sara couldn’t quite finish the thought.

  Since the wedding preparations had already been underway for her marriage to Lyonsford and Geoffrey couldn’t keep his hands off his future wife, they’d posted the banns and married without delay. Her people, it seemed, were as happy as she was, from Faye and Hugh, who would no longer need to leave Kenshire, to the squire Reginald, who followed Geoffrey everywhere he went.

  Though pleased with his new squire, Geoffrey had refused to bring the lad to Bristol. Which meant it would be as dangerous a mission as she suspected.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll listen to reason, Bryce. Are you sure ‘tis necessary to wage a war to take back a home which will be all but impossible to keep?”

  She’d had the same argument countless times with her husband. Her husband. The thought made her smile as she watched Geoffrey across the hall with his sister. When she caught his gaze, he winked at her, the glint in his eye evident even from this distance. Her body tingled in anticipation.

  “‘Tis our home and Geoffrey’s birthright. Or mine now,” Bryce amended. Geoffrey planned to fight alongside his sibling, Kenshire’s men, and the men whom William, steward of Camburg, had committed to the battle. But when Bristol was won, Bryce would be the new lord of the manor.

  She understood, almost having lost her own home more than once, but she was also terrified for Geoffrey’s safety.

  Though serious to a fault, Bryce was free with praise for his brother.

  “Try not to worry, my lady. No man is as cunning or as skilled as Geoffrey.”

  She knew it well, having seen him in action. But it was kind of Bryce to attempt to allay her fears. She’d gotten to know Geoffrey’s siblings well over the past weeks, and she’d discovered a strange soft spot for the reticent second son.

  Attempting to distract herself from the thought of Geoffrey in battle, Sara switched topics. “Has Geoffrey given up on his attempt as matchmaker?”

  Bryce’s fierce scowl deepened, if such a thing was possible. “I know he means well, but my thirst for revenge is still what keeps me awake at night. I’ve no need for a wife.”

  Smiling, Sara considered his words. The brothers were more similar than they realized. “It seems I’ve heard that argument before.” She watched as her reformed reiver made his way toward them. Her pulse began to race.

  “Some things are sweeter than revenge.”

  Looking doubtful, Bryce stood, pausing their game for now.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Sara watched him go. Mayhap he could someday find the happiness she had with his brother.

  Geoffrey reached down to pull his new bride toward him. “I find I’m in need of attention, wife.” He kissed her thoroughly, and Sara melted against the man who had stolen her heart.

  “As always, husband,” she teased, setting aside thoughts of her in-laws’ future to enjoy the present.

  For their stories were just beginning.

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  Also by Cecelia Mecca

  The Ward’s Bride: Prequel Novella (Available Now)

  English knight Sir Adam Dayne, to keep peace along the border, must accept a betrothal to the Scottish Marcher warden’s beautiful daughter. Lady Cora Maxwell hates everything English. When Adam proposes a unique challenge, Cora is forced to face her greatest fears and the burgeoning desire he has awakened.

  The Lord’s Captive (Available Now)

  After reclaiming his brother’s inheritance, Sir Bryce is faced with an unwanted distraction—the sister of his greatest enemy. Divided loyalties pull the English knight and his Scottish captive, Lady Cora, apart even as passion ignites between the unlikely pair.

  The Lord’s Captive Excerpt

  Northumbria, England, 1271

  Sir Bryce Waryn wanted to rejoice, but the sight of his childhood home in partial ruins overshadowed his victory. The stench of battle hung in the air.

  “What ails you, brother?”

  Geoffrey, two years his senior, often treated him like a child.

  Not today.

  “This.” He gestured to the carnage in front of them. “I fear it will never end.”

  They watched as a body was removed from the hall of Pele Tower, the center of activity at Bristol Manor.

  “I wish I could disagree. Are you sure you want to inherit this mess?”

  Bryce ignored Geoffrey’s question. “Come with me.” He had no destination in mind—only the urgent need to escape the smell. His brother nodded, and together they walked through the aftermath of a raid five years in the making.

  The battle had started as the sun rose and ended before mid-morn. Thanks to his brother’s men, they’d overwhelmed the usurpers quickly, and they’d spent the better part of the day assessing the damages. Their losses could have been much worse.

  Yes, he wanted to inherit Bristol Manor. Its proximity to the Scottish border guaranteed turmoil for years to come. But it was their home, and home meant something.

  Although it should have been his brother’s inheritance. As a feudal barony, the title was tied to the land. Now that Bristol was theirs once again, the title was his brother’s by rights. But Geoffrey had already bequeathed the manor to him.

  “I do,” he said to Geoffrey. “Though it’s an honor I d
on’t deserve.”

  Geoffrey rolled his eyes. “We’ve been through this, Bryce. My home is with Sara, in Kenshire. Besides, I’m not doing you any favors here,” he added, gesturing to the brutality all around them.

  New grass attempted to peek through the dirty brown snow of the courtyard. It was a small bit of pleasantness, that bright green. Still, he could not deny the manor was very different from his memories.

  “You do know we won the battle?” Sir Hugh Waryn, their uncle, walked toward them with purpose. His black hair was sprinkled with grey, but though he was past his prime, Hugh still towered over most of the other men scurrying around the courtyard to dispose of the dead.

  Bryce let his more talkative brother answer.

  “We wonder how soon the counterattack will come. You know as well as I do, peace is unlikely at Bristol.”

  Bryce handed his broadsword to his brother’s squire, a young boy who had begged to take part in the battle. The squire doted on his brother, much as Bryce himself had done when they were children. Neither of the brothers had wished to see the boy hurt, but they’d reluctantly agreed to his request, and Reginald had held his own in the battle. They were both proud of the lad.

  He turned his attention to Hugh. “Much needs to be done here. Uncle, I’ve no right to ask you this. You’re newly wed. But—”

  “My wife understands I’m needed at Bristol until it is fortified once again.”

  “I’ll send word to Faye that you’ll be staying with us,” Geoffrey said.

  “No,” Bryce said. “Not us.”

  Both men turned and looked at him. Bryce’s eyes narrowed.

  “I promised your wife you’d return, unharmed, and by God, you’ll do just that,” he told his brother. “I’ve no wish to incur the wrath of Lady Sara. If not for your knights of Kenshire and the men Lord William sent, we would never have seen this day.” For years they had lacked the manpower to take back Bristol. Now they had enough men to secure both the manor and the surrounding area.