A Knight of Temptation

A KNIGHT OF TEMPTATION by EVIE NORTH

(KNIGHTS OF PASSION)

There were five of them, boys, whom
Stephen

the

would-be-king

had

gathered together for safety. Their
fathers were his strongest supporters,
lords and barons who had been killed
in the battle for the throne between
Stephen and his cousin Matilda. He
placed them in an orphanage connected
to a monastery and there he trained
them to grow into knightly warriors.

The tattoo upon their arms proclaimed
their allegiance to the king and each
other, and their determination to win
back their destiny.

1

Copyright © Evie North, 2013.

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1

1150 AD, the north of England

Melina avoided the eyes of her bodyguard. It was something she was becoming adept at, since her father had brought him into the household and given him the task of keeping watch over her all day, every day, and sleeping across the threshold to her chamber every night.

But it was no use. Even with her head turned she could feel his dark eyes upon her.

Deep dark pools that drew her into their depths, making her skin burn and her heart flutter. The one and only time she’d made the mistake of gazing into those eyes she’d paid the price, losing her wits entirely for several heartbeats.

The man was handsome in a rugged way, his body hard and strong like a warrior’s should be, but it was more than that.

There was something . . . Was it the look of him, the scent of him, the
taste
of him? Not that she’d touched his skin with her tongue yet, but she’d thought about it. At night, in her chamber, in her luxurious bed with its furs and curtains, all alone with him outside her door.

Oh yes, Melina had the makings of a sensual woman and that was the trouble.

Because she was promised to old Lord Saunders, her father’s ally in this bi tter c i v i l war between the cousins Stephen and Matilda, a war which had been raging now for over fifteen years and had torn

England

apart. Lord

Saunders would help her father to hold onto his lands against Stephen’s army— lands he had taken by force at the beginning of the war—and marriage to Melina would consolidate their military union. The one thing Lord Saunders had insisted upon was that she be a virgin when she came to their bed that first time. Evidently his previous wife had lain with another man first and his heir did not resemble him at all. His lordship did not want such a thing to occur again, and

he

was

insistent

upon

her

maidenhead being intact. And so the bodyguard had come to keep watch on her.

The bodyguard she dreamed of holding in her arms, naked.

“Lady Melina?”

The bodyguard’s voice was deep, the timbre of it brushing against her senses.

Melina did not respond, humming to herself as if she was completely unaware of him standing so big at her back in the walled garden. She felt the heat of him like a blazing fire, she smelled the spicy scent of his skin. The ache between her legs grew more urgent, as it often was at night now, when she thought of him lying upon her threshold.

Some nights the ache was so urgent that she had even taken the shameful step of touching herself to ease it.

“Lady Melina.”

His hand closed upon her arm.

He wasn’t allowed to touch.

Startled, Melina spun about, a frown furrowing her brow. His head was lowered from his greater height down to hers, but even so he was over a foot taller than she. She didn’t make the mistake of meeting his eyes, not this time, directing a cold stare beyond him instead.

“How dare you lay your hand on me, Grendell!”

To her surprise his hand wasn’t withdrawn. In fact he tightened his grip and moved closer, so close that his body brushed against hers. Goosebumps rose on her skin and she felt her breasts begin to ache and tighten. Oh no, no! This was not good. She must escape him now, at once,

before her body betrayed her completely and something happened that must not happen.

“Lady Melina.”

S he attempted to shrug his hand off, and when that didn’t work she began to prise at it with her fingers. Bu t still he would not relinquish her. His grip was iron, but gentle; he was not hurting her, just holding her.

“Let me go,” she hissed.

Was he smiling? Melina could see the curve of his sensual mouth, and before she could stop herself she looked up into his dark eyes. No, no, no! But it was too late and already she was sinking into the midnight pools, feeling her heart begin its heavy pounding.

Pleasurable

sensations

rippled

through her—it was as if her body was no longer her own to command—and she struggled to maintain control. And then his mouth was on hers. Hot and hard.

She was too shocked to move. A blast of heat scolded her as if she stood in the doorway to hell. But why was hell so pleasurable? Why was she feeling as if being here, in his powerful arms, was exactly where she should be?

Her own weakness frightened her and suddenly she was struggling in earnest.

His mouth slanted over hers, his lips moving in a constant mesmerising caress. Melina twisted against him, desperately seeking escape. Not because she was afraid, it wasn’t that, but because she was weakening rapidly in her resolve not to join in.

His kisses, the press of his body to hers,

was

eating

away

at

her

determination. From the moment he’d been introduced to her by her father, she’d wanted him. Wanted him in a way so sensual, so carnal, it made her burn with need and shame.

A lady of her rank did not desire a lowly bodyguard! And yet it seemed that this lady did.

“Melina,” his husky voice was a groan. “So beautiful . . .”

In a moment she’d be lying spread beneath him.

He r panicked elbow found his solar plexus and he huffed out a breath.

Melina took advantage of the slackening of his arms to wriggle free, and then backed away a yard or two. Rumpled, her fair hair coming down, her blue eyes flashing. This was better. She felt back in control now, and suddenly she was angry.

“A bodyguard does not dare to touch a lady,” she said in a low voice. “My father will arrest you and have you thrashed for this.”

He stared at her a moment, absently rubbing the spot where her elbow had struck him, and there was no fear or remorse in his face whatsoever. In fact there was a glint to his eyes that told her he’d enjoyed their tussle and a smirk to his lips that suggested he might be about to do it again.

She mightn’t escape the next time.

She might not want to.

With a soft cry Melina spun around and ran through the garden, her skirts fluttering about her, and her long fair hair tumbling from its braids. Her gaze was fixed on the castle door that led to safety from the urgent sensations rampaging through her body, from the man watching her go, and from the knowledge that beat in her temples like a drum that she must go to Lord Saunders a virgin or the alliance with her father would be voided.

In the airless garden a blackbird began to sing, the sound sweet and pure, and suddenly tears were stinging Melina’s eyes. She was in a snare. Even while her lips were burning from Grendell’s kisses and her body was aching for his touch, she knew he was forbidden to her. Her destiny was already written.

Life was unfair. She’d seen the way the serving girls looked at Grendell. If she were a lowly maid she could have had him in her arms by now. In her bed.

She could love whomever she wished and it would not matter.

Once, last year, she had come upon one of the maids and a groom, lying entangled in a stall of the stables, their bodies joined and arching in intense pleasure as they rutted. The image had stayed with her, and now it returned in vivid detail, except the man with thrusting buttocks was Grendell and the woman beneath him, moaning in her pleasure, was Melina.

“Melina!” Her father’s shout as she ran into the castle made her jump guiltily. He was coming toward her, the beamed ceiling of the great hall rising high above him, the walls crowded with sharp and nasty looking weapons and wild animal heads. Her father appeared worried, as he often did these days, and when Melina moved to curtsey he caught her arm and hurried her toward the curling stone stairs that led to the upper chambers of the castle.

“Lord Saunders has been seen on the road. He’ll be here before nightfall. Go and change into your best gown, and braid your hair,” he added with a frown.

“You look unkempt, girl. Do not give him a distaste for you. We need this union if we are to hold on to our home.”

“Father, I . . .”

“What is it, girl?” he cut her short.

The worry was drawing lines on his face and shadows in his eyes. This land was not his, had never been his. He had taken it by force when Melina was a child, and now he had to make alliances with men like Lord Saunders to hold it. He had to use his own daughter as part of the bargain to hold on to his ill-gotten gains.

“Nothing, father.”

He wasn’t listening anyway.

Melina

could

have

caught

his

attention; she could have
made
him listen. What if she told him what Grendell had done in the garden? Instead she fell silent, merely hurrying to do his bidding. She told herself she would just have to make sure she did not get too close to Grendell again, not until she was safely wed to Lord Saunders.

What if you were marrying Grendell
instead? What if it was Grendell who
would lie next to you in your marriage
bed instead of Lord Saunders?

Of

course

she

dismissed

that

immediately, relegating it to the depths of her soul, where she kept a l l the dreams and wishes she’d grown out of once she became a woman. Such things were not possible in the real world and she’d best get used to being bedded by Lord Saunders because that was where her future lay.

***

She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but she’d been up since before dawn seeing to the household preparations for Lord Saunders’ arrival, and the feasting that was to take place that night.

In the warmth of her bed, w i th her body relaxed, pleasurable dreams began to trickle into her head.