A Knight's Temptation (23 page)

Their gazes clashed, and a glimmering heat washed over her, roused by the intensity of his stare. For a moment, she felt again his body’s bold weight against hers, their breaths blending, and the silky glide of his lips.

He stood very still, watching her. Was he reminding her that he controlled all elements of their relationship, akin to long-ago Romans and their slaves?

He might think such. However, she was no man’s lady.

A dangerous shudder rippled through Leona. She slid her hand up between her breasts to the neckline of her gown in a slow, purposeful glide. Beneath her palm, the cloth whispered, the sound of a sigh. Fingering the fabric aside, she bared her shoulder. “What a tempting bath.”

Aldwin’s lips parted on a harsh breath. A flush darkened his cheekbones before he spun, strode to the door, and pulled it open. A twilight breeze gusted inside, making the fire flicker.

The door slammed.

Lowering her hand, Leona turned to Gillian. The girl immediately curtsied. “What is your wish, mil—”

“Gillian, you must help me.”

The girl rose, her expression earnest. She clutched a bar of soap. “Of course, milady.”

Touching the girl’s shoulder, Leona whispered, “I must escape.”

Worry shadowed Gillian’s eyes. “Oh, nay—”

“You must pretend to be helping me with my bath. Splash the water. Talk, as though chatting with me. While you do such, I will slip out the window.”

Gillian shook her head. “I am sorry, but I cannot.”

Frustration bubbled inside Leona, threatening to boil over in a scream. “You can. Please.”

“He warned me you might say such,” the girl said, biting her lip. Her nails traced faint lines into the soap. “He said you—”

The shutter at the far window jarred, bumped from the outside.

Leona frowned. “What—”

Thud, thud, thud
. The hammering stopped, then resumed.

Leona marched across the dirt floor and drew open the shutters. A thick wooden board stretched diagonally across the opening. Holding up another piece of wood, obviously planning to nail it across the other to block the opening, Aldwin smiled at her. “Leona.”

She stifled a groan. “Did you pay Neale for the privilege of blocking the windows?”

“I did.”

God’s teeth, but Aldwin was impossible! Shooting him a lethal glare, she slammed the shutters.

Thud, thud, thud
.

She hurried to the other window and opened the shutters. Neale stood outside, lining up a plank. He bowed. Scowling, she closed the shutters and walked back to the bath.

Gillian offered a tremulous smile. “Will you bathe now, milady? The water will get cold.”

Leona’s focus slid to the door. Could she make a run for it? Get out and away before Aldwin realized what she’d done? Not likely. He’d probably anticipated such an attempt.

Thud, thud, thud
came again from outside.

She clenched her teeth. When he least suspected her to escape, she would.

Her gaze fell upon the door panel. A tantalizing idea came to mind. Aldwin might stop her from leaving the cottage, but she’d keep him from coming in. Above all, while she was bathing.

“Milady?”

“One moment.” Leona crossed to the door. Grabbing hold of the central door bolt, she slid it into place.

“’Tis not right,” Gillian muttered. “I must tell Aldwin.”

“Nay! Do not say a word. I do not want Aldwin to come in while I am naked, you see. The door will stay bolted until I am done. ’Tis all.”

Gillian frowned. “But—”

“I would like to have my bath now.”

Gillian sucked in her bottom lip, her gaze uncertain. But she came to Leona’s side and helped with her garments.

When the dirty gown and chemise pulled away from Leona’s body, she sighed. How blissful ’twould be to wash.

Male voices carried from outside. Her arms instinctively crossed over her breasts, causing the pendant’s chain to chime. Anxiety ran through her, but also a bubble of glee. She shouldn’t fret. Aldwin wouldn’t be coming back inside until she permitted it.

She removed her still damp boots, then drew the fine chain over her head and set the pendant atop her discarded clothes, where it would stay dry and safe. Holding onto the edge of the tub, she climbed into the water. The scent of wet oak surrounded her while she sank farther into the depths.

Gillian stood by the tub. She offered the soap, a coarse lye blend likely made by a local villager. For that cleansing soap, though, Leona would have traded a handful of costly spices.

Just as she dipped the soap beneath the water, a knock sounded on the door.

“Leona.”

Aldwin
. She paused. “Aye?”

“Are you bathing?”

Why don’t you try to come in and see?

“Why must you ask?”

He cursed, the sound muted by the panel. More briskly, he said, “Are you being fair to Gillian? If not—”

“I am being fair. We are getting along well.”

“Is that so, Gillian?” Aldwin asked.

“A-aye.”

“Good.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Leona choked down a mischievous giggle. “Come in and see for yourself, if you do not believe me.”

A long silence. Was he pondering that highly improper suggestion? She smothered a laugh and waited for him to try the door.

Gillian exhaled a worried-sounding sigh.

From outside, she heard another muttered oath, followed by a
smack
—the sound of a fist hitting the door. He obviously didn’t like her taunting him.

This little victory was too wonderful to let slip away. “You are not coming in, then?”

“Nay, Leona,” he said tightly. “I am not. And, you know very well why not.”

The
crunch
of footfalls. He’d walked away.

Smiling, she dipped her hand into the water and began scrubbing her arm. The whispered lather drew her thoughts back to that morning when she’d seen Aldwin washing in the river. As the froth slipped over her arm, she remembered the soapy swell of his shoulder and glistening skin.

So beautiful. Dangerous, but magnificent.

She plunged her hand beneath the water and then, drawing her hair aside, began washing her shoulder and neck. Her skin tingled. He’d touched her here as he turned her face to meet his gaze. When the soap skidded over her flesh, she again felt his fingertips against her jaw, and the heat that had glowed inside her.

A growl rumbled from her.

“You are displeased, milady?”

“Not with the bath.”

“Is there aught else you wish? Shall I wash your hair? I will be sure to rinse it with fresh water. Aldwin said I was to help you just as a lady’s maid would.”

“Really?”

The girl nodded and beamed. “He said if I do well this evening, he will write a letter and tell Lord de Lanceau how skilled I am. ’Twill help me find work at his castle.”

How clever of Aldwin.

Leona leaned forward to reach the back of her neck, but the muscles in her back pinched. She winced.

“Let me help you,” Gillian said, and then a gentle cloth smoothed over Leona’s shoulders. Leona sighed. With so much to complete each day at Pryerston and so little money to make do, she’d given up luxurious baths months ago. Would it be so wrong to enjoy this one? Closing her eyes, she gave in to Gillian’s ministrations.

Some moments later, scrubbed from scalp to toes, Leona stood and took the towel Gillian offered. Leona wrapped it around her dripping body. Holding the edges in one fist, she stepped from the tub, her teeth chattering when the cooler air brushed her damp skin and hair.

Before Leona could say a word, Gillian knelt and began to rub her legs.

Leona stepped back. “Thank you, but I can manage.”

Doubt clouded Gillian’s gaze. “Am I not tending you correctly?”

Leona groaned inwardly. How could she explain that she’d prefer to tend to her own needs? That she’d become so used to doing such that ’twas difficult to accept help—especially when her captor had arranged it?

The girl stared down at her work-reddened hands. “I tended Mama when her belly was swollen with child. Mama grew so large, she couldn’t wash her feet or dry her toes. But together, we managed.”

Leona fought a pang of guilt. She hated to see Gillian disappointed. As she slipped the pendant’s chain back around her neck, she asked, “Would you be able to help me with my clothes?”

Beaming, Gillian scrambled to her feet. “Aye, milady.” She hurried to the table and snatched up a folded, brown linen gown and white chemise. “I’m afraid they are not silk, milady. They are clothes that no longer fit Mama and may be too large for you. But they are clean. Far fresher than the garments you . . .” She blushed. “I . . . I will wash and dry your other garments. I promise to do my best work.”

Leona smiled and crossed to the table. “Thank you.”

Gillian shook out the chemise, and then handed it to Leona. Setting aside her towel, Leona pulled on the worn garment. Loose and comfortable, it smelled of the sunny outdoors.

When Gillian handed over the gown, a knock rattled the door.

“Leona,” Aldwin called.

The young girl squawked. Together, they pulled the gown over Leona’s wet head.

“Aye?” Leona called, as her face broke free of the bunched fabric and Gillian smoothed it down into place.

“Are you finished bathing?”

Leona straightened the fabric across her bosom and eyed the door. “I am. The bath is yours.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you . . . dressed?”

Nay, I am naked and longing for your lusty kisses
. She glared at the door. “Would you go away if I said ‘nay’?”

He laughed. “I am coming in now.”

I think not
.

Leona watched the door, anticipation swirling inside her.

Gillian tugged on her sleeve. “Milady, you haven’t drawn the bolt.”

The iron door handle creaked. The panel didn’t budge.

A wry chuckle came from outside. “Leona.”

She smothered a laugh.

“Open the door.”

Not a question, not a plea, but an order. How she loathed him telling her what to do. Setting her hands on her hips, she said, “I think not.”

“God’s blood—”

“Since you are determined to keep me inside this cottage, I vow you would prefer to sleep outside. If you lie by the door, you will ensure I cannot escape.”

“
Leona!
”

“And,” she added with a sly grin, “we both know ’tis the most honorable arrangement.”

She sensed his fury seeping under the panel like water. She held her breath, waited for his angry retort. To her astonishment, he chuckled.

His footfalls retreated.

Would he sleep outside? He was, after all, a warrior. He’d likely slept on the ground before, although, she realized with a twinge of remorse, that wouldn’t be wise with his injury.

Men’s voices reached her, indistinct over the snapping fire. Then, from the closest window, came a loud
creak
and
snap
: the sound of the boards being removed.

Gillian wailed and bit her knuckles.

“Do not worry,” Leona said.

The shutters opened. Aldwin climbed over the windowsill. When his booted feet landed on the floor, pain flickered across his features, but he shoved his shoulders back and brushed off his hands. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as his gaze fixed upon Leona.

She crossed her arms, determined not to appear unsettled.

Aldwin looked at Gillian and gestured to the window. “Thank you for your help. You may leave now.”

“Aye, milord.” Gillian gathered up Leona’s garments she’d promised to wash.

After snatching up the wooden stool, Aldwin followed her to the window. She flushed as he slid his hand into hers, helped her onto the stool, and then through the window to Neale waiting beyond. Leona gnawed the inside of her lip, for Aldwin smiled at Gillian as if she were the loveliest damsel in all of England.

The shutters banged closed.

Aldwin pivoted to face her.

His smile hardened.

Refusing to look away, Leona stared him down across the space separating them. Warmth and a raw, desperate need began to build within her.

Need to escape.

Need to save her father.

Need to . . . what?

Loud thudding—Neale hammering the boards back into place—made her jump.

Aldwin walked toward her, his strides loose and unhurried. If she’d ever imagined him an imposing man, he seemed frighteningly so now.

He stopped in front of her. Her folded arms pressed against his tunic. The wool of his cloak scratched the backs of her hands.

Be strong, Leona. Don’t let him conquer your will. Don’t let him sense your weakness
.

His scent—a blend of horse, night air, and minty soap—teased her senses and seduced her to breathe in more deeply. The warmth inside her sharpened, and become a sensation close to anguish.

Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his hand. His fingertips trailed down her cheek. Her lashes fluttered as her mind registered the slight roughness of his skin. Warmth. Yearning.

Need
.

She jerked her head to the side, breaking the contact, even as a wild heat skittered across her skin. That touch . . . She shouldn’t crave it.

“Why do you tempt me, Leona?”

“Tempt you? I—”

“Did you bolt the door to annoy me?”

“As I said—”

“So I would come after you?”

Her breath, captured by his words, jammed in her lungs. She tried to step away, but he caught her upper arms and slid his hands down, forcing her to uncross her arms.

Before she could wrench away, his fingers linked through hers in a gentle, but restraining, grasp.

Where their skin brushed, a fevered burning began. It licked up her palm, over her fingers, up her wrist until it seemed as though her flesh was afire. The gown that had been comfortable and loose earlier now chafed.

How mortifying—and frightening—that he could control her body so.

His sinful mouth eased into a half grin before he lifted their joined right hands. She tightened every muscle in her arm and struggled, but he outmaneuvered her, until their raised fingers were before his lips.