Knights of the Imperial Elite Complete Trilogy

by Beth Mikell

  Adara took the remaining steps to Taryn, taking her hands in hers. “I have no news, but I will not stop looking for him, I promise. I will find him and bring him home. I have not given up hope.”

  “Thank you,” Taryn said, dropping her hands to her sides, turning to go.

  A great unease occupied Adara’s concern. Decimus had found happiness, yet he had never indicated his attachment with Taryn. To find out this way left a terrible discomfort in her heart. Suffering the pain of a missing a loved one was the worst feelings in the world—she knew that quite well. Such vexations tore down a person’s inner significance and made the spirit heavy. Taryn had been suffering alone, yet she knew the risks of loving a knight with great responsibilities. She admired Taryn’s strength.

  “Wait,” Adara said, her lips parting in anticipation for her next words. The other woman’s tears fell, yet she met her gaze. “You have my gratitude for carrying my burdens as your own, but please know you have my confidence any time you need it. I will bring Decimus home to you, Taryn, and then you two must live freely. It is my sincerest wish.”

  She bowed, leaving as quietly as she appeared.

  Adara went to change into her most simplistic dark blue gown, attaching an apron. Her thoughts were still on Decimus and Taryn. How many years had they kept their relationship a secret? Such suffering was hard alone, but to know they had not shown any indication of their love made her sad. A grief that she could not shake.

  With a sigh, she refocused her attention to her responsibilities. Her goal was to see to the needs of the dwellers of HieLach. With Rowan overseeing security, maintenance, and the disputes within the keep walls, she was free to help the many women and children in need of her medical care. The elderly were feeble. The widows were grief stricken. The abused were either pregnant or scared. They each gave Adara a smile of happiness and that was enough for her.

  Rowan did not try to corner her privately, or even discuss anything outside of HieLach affairs, though there were times she did catch him staring at her, but he would turn away quickly. She actually wanted more contact with him.

  Like now.

  She could not place her finger on it, but Rowan fascinated her senses with his outlaw appearance and his Scots brogue. She wondered what his long hair felt like, or what it would be like to talk about something other than repairing the stable roof, possible trade routes, or securing necessary supplies for the keep. So many times Adara wanted to change the subject, but she did not. How could she really? Her circumstances prevented her from being a normal woman and she could not change the fact simply because she was curious about a man dripping with sensual appeal.

  There was a knock at her door. “My lady? I must speak with you,” Cylah called, her voice muffled.

  “Enter.”

  Her knight pushed open the door and took a couple steps inside. Dressed in her usual armor, Cylah held a small piece of metal as big as her palm. The edges were smooth, rounded, and highly polished. A tightness clenched Adara’s chest. The metal meant safety. A pact. Decimus always wielded the metal with fascination. Seeing it in her knight’s hands amplified the constriction in her chest: Decimus was gone. It hurt to breathe.

  Cylah bowed, meeting her lady’s eyes, her gaze stark and hollow. “The last shipment of goods before winter is nearly ready, my lady.” She drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She moved the metal back and forth in her hands.

  Her reaction was well noted, as if she was having a hard time dealing with the issue at hand.

  “I need to contact Jayme across the border,” Cylah said. “Decimus always met with him to discuss the route beforehand.”

  Decimus was good with smuggling goods north before the convoy traveled south to be sold at English markets. He had a friendship with Jayme, the captain of the Scots border patrol. Not only did their relationship help prevent attacks from the Gray Legion, but the Scots’ trust helped to strengthen their security too.

  Adara smoothed a hand over her chest, willing the pain away. She nodded. “Contact him. If Jayme comes, introduce him to Rowan.” By flashing the metal twice in the sunlight, Jayme would respond. One glint of the metal, he could come. Three times, he could not.

  Cylah visibly stiffened, her expression hardening. “I can handle discussions with the Scots captain. I do not need Elite interference.”

  “I know you can,” Adara said smoothly. “But we need positive relations with Lord Darrius’ men, too. Rowan has taken over Decimus’ role and he must be informed.” She knew he would not take kindly to being snubbed if he was not kept abreast of all activities.

  Her knight took a step forward, her face flushing. “They are here to guard you and the keep, not meddle in our business. Jayme knows me. He will listen.”

  Adara knew that too, but she had more to take into consideration. “And Rowan is his countrymen. I think they will reach an understanding. I need you here,” she said firmly. Her decision was made. She knew her knight did not trust the Elite, but this reaction was normal. Cylah was loyal and fierce, and not quick to give instant allegiance to anyone. Her redeeming quality—she would only protest privately, never openly. For her, it would be the greatest shame to argue with Adara in front of an audience.

  Cylah looked away, snorting. “Fine. I will send the message.” She turned to go, pausing in the doorway, looking over her shoulder. Her face was pinched as she said, “I do not trust them, my lady. They do not fully grasp our plight here in the borderlands and I am not positive they will spill blood for our sakes.”

  Adara’s expression softened and she strode closer. “I think they are far more honorable than you give them commendation. We need their assistance and I… trust them. I have a thousand times more faith in them than my uncle,” she said wryly.

  A slight smile curved her knight’s lips. “Amen to that.” She grunted a short laugh, leaving.

  She walked over to her window to see Rowan with Simon below. They were romping and knocking each other around, though not in anger. The smiles on their faces told another story. Rowan took another swing at Simon, but the younger knight ducked and Rowan missed his target. Simon used Rowan’s precarious balance to his advantage, plowing right into him. Rowan fell into the water trough behind him.

  Adara gasped.

  The water exploded up in the air. She watched as Rowan came up out of the trough, spewing water out his mouth before leaping up to chase his prey. She giggled hard as Rowan tried to reach Simon, missing him at every turn. No one watching would realize the two men were actually Imperial Elite knights as they played as large children. Rowan must have had enough because he stalked away.

  For the first time, she had genuinely smiled. She basked in the feeling, enjoying the floating sensation. With light emotions traveling her heart, she grabbed her basket of medicines and headed out of her room. She had to speak to Rowan.

  Mentally, she sealed herself against seeing him. Between his intense presence and gaze, he unnerved her, regardless of discussing mundane things. Yet her steps faltered when she heard his rich baritone, singing about ‘tumbling a lass in the hay.’ Her stomach knotted. Instant pleasure seized her. The song was quite sensual. ‘Her breasts would plump, as I smooth my hand over her rump…’

  Tingles traveled her skin in a rush. Her pulse raced and she flushed hot.

  Nearing the semi-open doorway, her eyes found him easily. His bare backside gleamed in the sunlight, the lines of his muscles bunching and stretching before he pulled up his pants. There was not a scrap of fat on his lithe form. The muscles of his back rippled with every movement, sinewy and hard. His damp hair hung down his shoulders, water running over his supple flesh, and gleaming like diamonds in the light. The wide breadth of his shoulders tapered down to lean hips, every cut of his tone strength was chiseled and defined. He bedazzled her eyes, throwing her female desire into a panic.

  Her hand fisted on her basket, aching to touch his skin. Feel him against her palm. “Oh my…” she whispered, gulping.

&
nbsp; He whirled around, giving a short gasp. His face softened when he saw her, and his lips curved up in a lopsided smile. The dimples of his cheeks deepened. Clearly, he did not mind the interruption. “Enjoying my display, kitten?”

  Rowan turned fully, giving her the front view of his chest. Slabs of more succulent muscles greeted her eyes with a dusting of dark hair trailing south. Her mouth went dry. Her heart thudded fast; and her hands went damp—the basket nearly hitting the floor. She tightened her grip. A sensation of falling tipped every nerve ending, an ache flooded her down low. She could not breathe, her lungs pushing the air in and out her lungs at a rapid pace. The man seized her pleasure at a glance, holding her attention captive.

  Her face flamed. “I-I…” She trailed off, losing every coherent thought. There were no words to cover the perversion of watching him change clothes, especially when she enjoyed the display.

  “Speechless? I have this effect on most women,” he said, grinning. He grabbed a tunic off the bed and strode closer with slow steps.

  Adara stiffened, her lust cooling. Her eyes connected with his. “That is right,” she said, cocking her head. “You have a reputation with the ladies.” How could she be so foolish to forget? She had overheard several women at Blackstone Castle hoping he would spend his evening in their bed.

  He paused, his jaw flexing, though he did not glance away. Rowan took a few more steps, leaning against the doorway and pushed open the door fully. “Don’t believe everything you hear, lass,” he said with a wink. “I’m sure the rumors have been exaggerated.”

  His male scent swarmed her senses, drowning her in his luscious fragrance. Something woodsy and dark and she licked her lips. Her eyes caressed down his face, fastening on his mouth. For a second, she did not care how many women he had kissed, as long as he offered her a taste.

  She swallowed hard.

  Shaken as if startled out of deep sleep, Adara met his gaze again. Though her heart beat rapidly in her chest, she pushed aside her desire. She had to be strong. “I am here to discuss keep affairs and trade routes. The convoy will leave soon and I need you to meet with the man responsible for keeping the shipment safe,” she said in a surprisingly clear tone.

  He straightened from his slouched position, frowning. “What man? Why is this the first you have mentioned it?” Rowan worked at his tunic, pulling it over his head and settling the material over his body.

  Adara tried to remain impervious, but a burst of excitement threaded through her veins. His muscles pulled tight. She wanted to… feel him. Touch him. “H-he is someone you will like, a man not far from here with a similar background as yours.” She turned to leave, trying to ignore his unsubtle huff, and she threw her parting comment over her shoulder. “Cylah will introduce you.”

  The sound of his clipped steps echoed behind her. He followed her. She winced, feeling as though she had handled this all wrong. But she had no choice. She did not have time to salivate over him, nor exchange intimate banter. Yet he had not said anything remotely flirtatious. He had only asked a simple question regarding a subject she brought up. Was she upset he had not continued his usual titillating comments? Aye, unfortunately. Deep down there was a small thrill whenever he spoke to her, as if she was the only woman in the room. Someone special. She was upset with herself and her crippled expectations.

  Rowan grasped her arm, forcing her to stop. She unwillingly met his gaze. “What?” she asked coolly.

  “Kitten, I—”

  There was something soft like velvet in his supplication, and she knew she could not crumble against his coquettish ways. She would lose, and she could not gamble her heart. She yanked her arm away. “Don’t!” she hissed. “I have patients to attend. Excuse me.” Turning away, she made a firm decision to stay away from Rowan the McLeod.

  *.*.*.*

  Rowan stared after Adara, awestruck and tongue-tied. “What just happened, kitten?” he asked in the quiet of the passageway. He was torn between his duty and his heart. Every time he faced her, his words left him. His skull emptied. He had yet to face his deepest desires and make her see him beyond a knight bound by service. There was no answer to save him make the right decision.

  He stared after her until she turned the corner.

  *.*.*.*

  Adara did not dine with the rest of the keep, but took a tray to her room. Maybe on some level she would have enjoyed seeing Rowan, but she was honestly too tired, opting to hide, especially after her treatment to him earlier. Still feeling restless, she grabbed her mantle, securing it around her shoulders, and then released her dark red hair. She shook out the mass until it reached her knees. She thought a walk on the battlements a good choice and left her room.

  As she neared Kayden’s room, she heard Rowan’s deep, velvety voice floating out of the open doorway. She stopped beside the entrance, watching with a measure of fascination between a child and the seasoned warrior of the Elite.

  Rowan sat beside Kayden on the bed, her innocent face, peering up at him with angelic anticipation.

  “What shall it be tonight, lass?” he asked.

  Adara could see a hint of a smile on his face as he patiently waited for the girl to make a decision. Kayden looked up toward the ceiling, as if contemplating the whole universe.

  “Um, a cat story. They are my favorite!” she said with a giggle.

  He nodded. “Right. A cat story. Let me see.” He looked up, and then said, “Ah, yes. I know a purrrfect one just for you.”

  Kayden giggled again.

  Rowan frowned. “Are you going to laugh or listen, little lady? You promised, remember?” he said with mock sternness, pointing a finger.

  Immediately, Kayden sobered, smoothing her coverlet with her hand. She prepared to settle in for her story, but gave a cheeky wink for good measure, making him chuckle.

  He cleared his throat and began, “There once was a small beautiful lass about your age, I would say, who lived in a beautiful castle. And she had a very naughty kitty named…?” He raised a brow at Kayden for her to supply the name.

  Adara inched closer. Her niece appeared to be looking for a name, but she knew the cat would most assuredly would be named “Blossom.” Kayden referred to every feline the same since she was three years old.

  “Blossom,” she said with a grin.

  Adara could not help but smile, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from making a sound.

  Rowan’s lips curved. “Aye, Blossom. The lass wanted to take Blossom into the river for a wee dip, but the kitty was not keen on water and refused to go swimming.

  Kayden’s eyes grew wide. “What happened?”

  “Blossom looked to see if anyone was about and when no one was around, she spoke to the wee lass, and said, ‘I am really a beautiful fairy trapped inside this furry body. But if you do one thing for me, I will grant you whatever wish you like,’” he said smoothly, keeping his voice in a low, soothing tone.

  Kayden settled down more under the coverlet, listening to Rowan’s voice, enchanted by his story.

  Adara stared intently, trying to focus on his words, but he enthralled her. His body was relaxed against a mountain of pillows, his hand softly caressing Kayden’s pale hair. The rise and fall of his chest pulled his tunic taut as he breathed and spoke, hinting at the muscles she had seen earlier that afternoon. He was beauty and perfection. The rich timbre of his voice slipped easily over the story in his soothing Scots brogue.

  Rowan continued, “That one thing that you must do for me is… to set me free, but the lass was not certain she could live without Blossom. So finally, the wee lass agreed. She told the kitty she could go free. Before Blossom left, she turned into a beautiful fairy with long red hair and sweet brown eyes.”

  Adara gasped, though she tried to contain her reaction. If Rowan heard her, he gave no indication.

  Kayden’s eyes drooped, signaling the first sign his story was affecting her into sleep. “What… happened…” she whispered.

  He dropped his voice to
a whisper, “The fairy gave the lass her wish and you know what the wish was?”

  “No,” Kayden breathed, almost asleep.

  “The lass said, take me with you. And the beautiful red haired fairy offered her hand, and took the lass with her… forever friends in a kingdom of fairies….” he said, smiling.

  Kayden finally slept.

  Adara watched as he leaned over, blowing the candle out, plunging the room in darkness, which left her voyeur like position exposed. She took a step back into the shadows, scuffing her foot against the stone floor. She winced inwardly as she made the harsh sound. When she brought her head back around to see if he had heard her, she found herself caught in his light brown eyes with a half-smile on his lips.

  Chapter 9

  “Kitten, did you enjoy story time as well?” He watched the shocked expression flit across her face.

  Adara visibly bristled, raising her chin. “It was not intentional, I can assure you,” she said stiffly.

  “Claws and fangs bared. I am intrigued,” he said with a smile, enjoying her response to his teasing words. “Will you hiss or purr is the question I am asking myself.”

  She folded her arms. “I am not inclined to hiss or purr,” she said coolly. “Thank you for the story you told my niece, but I was just passing by when I heard Kayden laugh and stopped to look in on her.”

  Rowan took a step closer, realizing her long red hair was unbound, and hanging down to her knees. God almighty! Her hair resembled a fiery cloud, and he ached to wrap his fingers around each strand. He was close enough to smell her scent—earthy and decadent. The wholesome fragrance clung to her skin, reminding him of fresh rain. Clean and mysterious.