A Knight In Her Bed (3 page)

Trust me.

She told herself she wanted to get up and run
away, but his hand was sliding between her legs and he smiled, feeling her ready for him. His fingers caressed the warm slick skin, delving inside her inner lips, into her core. The sensation catapulted her body into such pleasure that despite her fighting mind, she widened her thighs to give him better access. He took instant advantage, finding the hard nub of her clitoris and squeezing it gently between his thumb and finger. Wild pleasure spiralled through her, and she reached up to kiss his face, letting her tongue trail down over the line of the scar, down to his muscular neck and the hollow of his throat.

Her fingers brushed the Celtic cross on his bicep, and she saw it wasn’t new but faded from time. Whatever
story was attached to it was old, from a time before the boy became the man. Wolf was a loner, like her, and he had suffered, like her. They were two of a kind who, through a quirk of fate, had found each other.

W
olf was tugging at the ties of his breeches, and then the hard length of his cock was in her hands. She curled her fingers around him, revelling in the sensation of iron covered in velvet.

“I want to be inside you
.” His voice was ragged.

“
I want to taste you.” Juliet shimmied down into position, her tongue sliding up the length of his cock from root to tip, before her mouth covered the head of it. His hips arched involuntarily toward her and he groaned. She could have carried on, licking and sucking, but he was lifting her back onto the bed, setting her on her hands and knees. Startled, she tried to turn, but he was kneeling behind her, his big body covering her back and hips, his cock pushing blindly against her buttocks.

Juliet had heard of being taken like this but she’d never tried it
. Now, with the muscular feel of his body heavy on hers, his thick thighs widening her own, she was eager to experience it. His hand cupped her mound, before his fingers slid down through the soft hair and eased inside her slippery sex and began to stroke her.

She cried out softly, her body clenching, and
moved back against him, seeking relief. “Wolf,” she moaned, “please.” With a grunt he replaced his fingers with the hard length of his cock. Just the head at first and then more, pushing in until she felt as if he was filling her entirely. His fingers continued to rub against her clit, and she moved jerkily as he thrust inside her, faster now, his warm breath on her nape.

She was enveloped by him, held
safe in the Wolf’s embrace, and she knew with joy mixed with despair that it was a sensation she had been seeking all her life.

Then Juliet forgot everything as, w
ith a powerful climax, her body clenched around his cock, tremors running down her thighs and into her belly as she spasmed and gasped. A heartbeat later he too came, big hands gripping her thighs, thrusting jerkily until he gave a deep groan and collapsed, him on top of her, both of them panting for breath.

After a moment
he rose and, using the cloth from the bowl of water, sprawled beside her on the bed and began to gently wipe her most intimate places. She allowed it, even rejoiced in it, as if they truly were a wolf and his mate.

His silver eyes observed her, and he said, “
Were you hunting me, Juliet? Were you seeking the Wolf?”

She
began to shake her head but then changed her mind. It was too late for lies. “I was looking for Lord Wulfrich,” she admitted, “but I did not know he was you. Not until you told me.”

He
read the truth in her face and nodded his head.

“You must tell me what happened to my friends,” she said breathlessly,
needing to know and yet afraid of what he might say.

He
had used the cloth to clean himself and now began to dress. “What of this sister you told me about?”

Juliet shrugged. “It was a lie.”

He looked up from pulling on his boots, giving her one of his intent looks. “So you can lie to me but I must tell you the truth?”

“Yes . . . no. Why w
ill you not tell me?”

Fully d
ressed now, he stood up and went to the table to get some food, at the same time pouring himself a goblet of wine. “I can’t tell you, not yet. I need to ask someone’s permission. Tomorrow we will be in London and then you will know.”

“But . . .”

“Do you want to know what happened to your friends?” He waited for her nod. “Then you will come with me, Juliet.”

And once more it was a command rather than a request.

Juliet huddled against the wooden side of the cart, bracing herself against the bumping and swaying as they made their way down the rough roads to the capital.
Wulfrich had sent her to ride with the other wives and mistresses, as well as the gaggle of prostitutes that followed his army. Her arrival had caused some curiosity but she’d shrugged off their questions and pretended to sleep, and soon they left her alone.

They’d made camp outside the walls of London when a weary looking guard came to
fetch her. Dusty, with grit in her hair and between her teeth, Juliet followed him through the men and animals, toward that familiar tent with Lord Wulfrich’s standard fluttering atop it.

There were m
en inside, and in their midst Wolf looked solemn as they poured over one of his parchment maps. Juliet crept into the tent and found a spot to sit, out of the way, and stayed silent, waiting. Soon her weariness caught up with her and she closed her eyes and despite the noise, slept.

She dreamed. She and her friends were tumbling, faces painted or else wearing animal masks, as they fell about and playacted. Juliet did her cartwheels around the room, and then somersaulted over and over between the tables and chairs. The crowd in the hall laughed and clapped.

She felt light and free. She felt alive. These, her friends, were more dear to her than her family, dead of fever when she was little more than a child. She’d looked after herself for most of her life, been alone for most of her life.

Henry was standing by her, his lean young body clothed in green tunic and hose, and his shoes
with little bells on them. On his other side Leonora put her hand on his arm and smiled up at him as if he was her hero. Juliet knew that Leonora was in love with Henry and now Juliet no longer slept in his bed it wouldn’t be long before the other girl claimed him. She should be jealous, but she wasn’t. In her heart Juliet had never loved Henry. He wasn’t the man for her.

He wasn
’t Wolf.

Juliet’s eyes opened wide. Long legs were
planted before her and as she raised her gaze she found tight breeches and a shirt open at the throat and then the scarred face of the man who made her body clench tight and her heart beat faster.

“We are to go to the royal court, Juliet. I have asked for water to be brought so that you can bathe.”

She blinked, trying not to jerk to her feet in fright. “I do not belong at the royal court.”

His scarred mouth twisted. “No less than me.”

She frowned. “But you are a great man. A lord. I am . . . nothing.”

He dropped down on his haunches before her, and suddenly he was very close
, his silver eyes as clear as water. “A great man? I do not see myself as such. Once I was a boy in an orphanage whose family died when one of Matilda’s barons took our lands and castle. This,” he pointed to his scar, “came from that night. Do you know who that man was? He was my Uncle Edward, and when I went screaming to him for help as my father lay dying, he raised his sword and cut my face open. Betrayal can be a bitter thing, Juliet, and I always felt alone, despite those who called themselves my friends in the orphanage. But it was there I learned to fight, and where I dreamed of regaining what was mine. Now I have. Perhaps that makes me a great man, but I do not feel it. And until you came to me, Juliet, I thought I would be alone all my life.” His knuckles brushed her cheek. “You are like my other half. With you I think I could perhaps be that great man.”

“Wolf . . .” she whispered, tears in her eyes. He was a
n orphan? His uncle had betrayed him in a terrible way, and yet he was saying these deep heartfelt things to her. Juliet could not help but be touched. Were they truly two lost souls who had found each other? The intensity of her feelings when she looked into his eyes frightened her, because once she had given her heart to him she knew there would be no going back.

“Good,” he said, as if she had spoken,
“it is settled. Bathe, and then we go to the court in the white tower.” And with a touch of his fingertip on her lips, he rose to his feet and left her there.

Water arrived and a tub was filled and Wolf instructed no man to enter his tent unless he wanted to die. As Juliet soaped herself with the small piece of scented soap, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wolf was up to. The royal court was not somewhere she’d ever imagined herself attending, at least not as other than an acrobat, and if it wasn’t for her friends and his promise to explain to her what had happened to them, she wouldn’t have dared to go there.

And what did he
want of her? To be his love? His leman? To live in his castle and bear his children and grow old with him? Juliet wriggled in the cooling water. Her family were merchants, so she was not born of the lower orders, but neither was she one of the great families of England.

Suddenly the
door of the tent opened and a woman stepped in. Juliet gasped at the intrusion, sinking lower, water splashing into her face and mouth and making her choke.

The woman
had a calm, grave beauty and serious dark blue eyes, but at the sight of Juliet hiding in her bath her face creased into a sweet smile. “I am the Lady Rowena. Wolf asked me to bring you something suitable to wear. Juliet, is it? His somersaulting friend?”

Juliet stared at her suspiciously as she came and lay a cloth covered bundle on the cushions. “It should fit, from what he told me.”

Lady Rowena hesitated and Juliet wondered what she was expecting. Perhaps she should thank her? “I’m not sure if I should attend the court,” she said instead in a rush.

Rowena
came closer. Wisps of chestnut brown hair were visible beneath her veil and her lashes were dark about her blue eyes.

“Wolf would not have asked you to go if he didn’t think it important, Juliet. You can trust him, you know. He is an honourable man.”

Her words gave her away and she must have known it, because she flushed pink, before she hurried away. Lady Rowena was in love with Wolf! Juliet felt uncomfortable, because it must be obvious what she and Wolf had been doing in his tent, but the next moment she felt proud. Because he had chosen her, a nobody who turned somersaults for a living, over this beautiful elegant lady.

Climbing from the bath
she quickly dried herself and went to inspect the cloth bundle. Beneath the outer covering was a sleeveless tunic of fine silk the colour of a stormy ocean, as well as pointed shoes and a gossamer thin veil and a pale lemon coloured undergarment with long sleeves. The clothing reminded her of long ago, in her merchant family’s home, where beautiful things abounded. Until her father brought home the roll of cloth from across the seas, and with it the fever that killed them all, apart from Juliet.

But she would not think sad thoughts now.

Slowly and reverently, Juliet began to dress in her borrowed clothes.

Her
long hair was still damp, and she hurriedly braided it before placing on the veil. Juliet felt right, as if this was meant. As if she was meant to be by his side.

By the time she exited the tent
, Wolf was already waiting for her, and his eyes flashed with an expression that made her feel warm and achy.

“You are the most beautiful lady I have ever seen,” he murmured, as he helped her up onto his horse. A great black beast, it was gentle as a lamb, as he
settled himself behind her, and reached around her to take up the reins.

“As beautiful as Lady Rowena?” she said, looking between the horse’s ears.

He gave a gruff laugh. “You are jealous,” he declared, sounding pleased by it. “A good sign, Juliet.”

“Jealous?” she snorted. “Not at all. I just wondered if your eyesight was as clear as it could be.”

But the smile on his face wouldn’t go away. “My eyesight is perfect, Juliet.”

Irritably she plucked at the fine stuff of her skirt. “
Then you must see that I am no great lady. You could keep me by your side, but I would never be more to you than a curiosity. Perhaps you want me to turn somersaults for you and your friends? I-I do not want you to make promises to me, Wolf, that you cannot keep. It is cruel.”

His mouth hardened, the scar twisting. She waited for his reply, but he said nothing as they
trotted down the road to the West Gate in the great wall of London. Now and again, Juliet glanced at him, anxious, wondering what he was thinking. Would he agree with her and set her free? Would he lie to her and break her heart?

But as they neared the
White Tower the sights and sounds distracted her, and she lost herself in amazement. The hall they walked down was larger than anything she had seen, and she was glad that Wolf was still holding her hand in his as they took their place in the reception room. With so many dazzlingly dressed persons about her, Juliet tried not to gawp and she held her head high when she saw them whispering and pointing at her. The king himself looked weary and unwell, the long years of war and treachery had taken their toll on him, but he was still a handsome man.