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Authors: Samantha Holt

Tags: #Medieval Romance, #Historical Romance, #Romance, #love story, #Borders, #Scottish Borders, #Lowlanders

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BOOK: Borderland Betrayal
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Ellise hobbled behind the curtain, stealing a peek at his concerned expression before drawing them closed. Poor knight. He looked thoroughly overwhelmed by her presence.

~***~

James scraped a hand through his hair and backed away from the curtains as the rustle of clothing resounded in the quiet room. Damn, what was he doing? Indeed, a noble man sharing their room with a whore was no unusual thing. But Ellise was no whore and he made no habit of sharing his room with strange women.

And Ellise was strange. Or certainly uncommon. In spite of her circumstances, she retained her droll wit. He found it ridiculously charming. Aye, she was no common thief. A criminal through circumstance rather than choice, and he felt guilty for forcing her out onto the street. He didn’t know what to do with her after this night, but he would help her. It was not in his nature to ignore those who needed aid and he desperately wanted to help Ellise.

Water splashed. He cursed the curtains that were so thick and then cursed himself for such thoughts. When had he ever let lust get the better of him? Never. A flash of something through the tiniest gap in the fabric caught his attention and he watched closely as he held his breath.

Aye, the briefest glimpse of dark smooth skin. God’s blood, but he disgusted himself. Turning away, he escaped the room, slammed the door shut and exhaled slowly. This eve would prove to be a long one.

He went in search of a maidservant and managed to persuade her to donate one of her gowns in return for a goodly amount of coin. It was no fine garment, but was in a better state than that awful thing of Ellise’s. The woman deserved a great deal more. Beauty such as hers belonged in fine fabrics, and in superior surroundings.  With her cultured tongue, Ellise would have no problem fitting in with nobility. In fact, part of him wondered if she had not spent time with the higher ranks of society, but Ellise was not pretentious or overly-modest like many women he knew. With the exception of the Thornewall lords’ wives. Both were kindly women, but neither would consent to being alone with a strange man. Ellise was indeed a puzzle.

She remained hidden behind the curtain when he returned, gown over one arm and a platter of fruit and bread in the other. “Ellise?”

“Aye?”

“I have a gown…”

An arm thrust out from between the curtains and James shook his head. He’d half-expected her to leap out from behind them and accost him with words once more. Half-hoped too, if he was honest. Draping the gown across her arm, he retreated to the chair in front of the writing desk and picked at the chopped apple whilst sneaking glances at the hangings.

Ellise swept aside the thick fabric with a flourish just as James popped some apple into his mouth and he sucked in a breath. The fruit wedged in his throat, making him cough. Ellise’s eyes flew wide, and she hobbled to his side and slapped his back. Hard.

“Enough!” he said, holding up a hand and giving a final cough. “For a slender lass, you are astonishingly strong.”

“Forgive me.” She attempted to look contrite, but he could see the mirth in her eyes. “Are you well?”

“Aye, aye, well enough. Sit, woman, before you strain that ankle any further.”

With one last concerned glance at him, she retreated to the bench and drew her legs up onto it, spreading herself out comfortably. Taking a moment to recover, James shifted on his chair and considered his next move. He needed to take a look at her ankle, he concluded. But he didn’t trust himself. It was not that the gown was particularly spectacular. Its simple dark blue colour and cut were more suited to a peasant girl than nobility, but it was that it displayed Ellise’s figure fully. And what a figure it was. A hint of cleavage greeted his gaze just above the line of her chemise, and the tight cut of the garment followed her gently curving waist to her hips. With her legs propped up, he was afforded a glimpse of slender calves as she repositioned her skirts and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, what do we do now? Shall we sit in silence all evening?”

James resisted the groan threatening to force its way out of his throat and came to his feet. Women really were baffling creatures. With several decisive steps, he forced himself to sit next to her, the scent of soap and herbs lingering. She had washed her hair too, a few damp strands still stuck to her face and her skin glowed, now free from grime.

“Now I shall look at your ankle. If you have done lasting damage then you shall need to see a physician.”

“I cannot afford a physician!”

James raised one brow and ignored her as he eased her foot into his lap. She squeaked but he ignored that, too, and wrapped a hand around her ankle.

“So small,” he murmured and then cursed himself for letting the words slip. Even with her injury, her ankle seemed so tiny and fragile. So very unlike the woman herself. A hiss escaped her as he manipulated her ankle and he offered her an apologetic smile. “‘Tis not broken. Just a sprain.”

“That I know.”

“You need to keep it raised.”

“Aye, that I know too.”

“Is there aught you do not know?”

“I know naught of you. Tell me, brave knight, what do you do? Are you a mercenary? Do you fight other men’s wars?”

She tilted her head to consider him and James caught himself studying the gentle arch of her neck. Ack, but he could hardly remember the last time he’d taken part in a conversation with a woman. In truth, he had little occasion to. Looking after Thornewall took much time and if he was not in the keep, he was at his manor house seeing to his lands and people. Women, in his experience, wanted protection or pleasure.

And certainly not conversation.

James shook his head. “Nay, I am no mercenary. I am a captain. My lord’s demesne lies near the border.”

“So you
do
fight another men’s wars.”

“Nay, for they are my own, too. I hold land not ten miles from the main village.”

“Ah. And have you a wife there? And babes?”

Lord, would the lass never cease? “Nay, no wife. No babes.”

“But you are what? Seven and twenty?”

“Nine and twenty.”

“Yet you are handsome and powerful. Mayhap you have not found a woman who can see past your scowl. Or mayhap you are a demanding man and no woman can satisfy you.”

Her lips turned up, prompting his own to follow suit. “Mayhap they do not like my unchivalrous ways. Mayhap I am simply a rogue and no woman can tame me.”

“Nay, that is not it. You hold chivalry in high esteem, any fool can see that, or else you would not have come to my aid.”

“Aye, Ellise, alas you have the measure of me. I fear the perfect lady may just have passed me by and I am destined to grow old and grey alone.”

“Now I see it. You seek perfection. Therein lies your problem. No woman is perfect. And a man is even less so. An imperfect man seeking a perfect woman. Ha, ‘twill never happen. You would be wise to look more closely at the women around you. ‘Tis the imperfections that make a soul beautiful.”

James realised he was still stroking her ankle and he carefully released it but she kept it in his lap. Shifting his attention away from her leg, he considered her. “You are very wise, Ellise, for someone so young.”

Ellise straightened at this, allowed her chin to tilt up. “
Mamá
taught me well. I would not have survived as long as I have done on my own without the skills with which I’ve been blessed. I thank God every day for more wit than that of my enemies.”

“You speak as though you have many enemies.”

“A woman alone always has enemies.”

“You have been alone long?”

She paused, seeming unsure how to answer. “Aye, since I was five and ten. I am three and twenty now.”

“And you have no husband? No babes?”

“I have no one,” she agreed softly.                                            

A convoluted mix of relief and sorrow rolled through him. Aye, his attraction to her grew by the second and at least no angry husband would be upon him but he saw a heavy wash of sadness in her gaze, even as she tried to mask it.

“A woman like you should not be alone, Ellise.” His voice came out low and husky, as her dark gaze connected with his. James suspected he’d just given away his desire for her and knew he should retreat from that disturbing gaze of hers.

The tip of her tongue licked briefly across her bottom lip and she rested her hands on his forearms, the touch sending heat down to his groin. “I do not have to be,” she said quietly, glancing at his arms before bringing her gaze back up to his. “Not for this night.”

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

Sheets rustled as she tossed and Ellise threw an arm over her face with a huff. The dawn would be upon them before long and still she had not slept. Well, mayhap she had not been lying there
that
long, but it felt like an eternity. The gentle male rasps of breath coming from the corner did nothing to ease her into dreamland.

The heavy curtains blocked out most of the night light from the room but Ellise could just make out the shadowy figure of James, slumped in the chair by the desk. Her cheeks heated when she recalled his gentle rebuff as he announced that it was late and she needed rest.
Maldito!
He did desire her, she was sure of it. So why would the man turn her down?

Chivalry. Honour. Two things she rarely saw in anyone. The two things that attracted her to him—aside from his beautiful looks—were the two things that prevented him from taking what they both wanted.

A few summers ago, she would have felt heartily ashamed at her wanton behaviour, but so much had happened since and Ellise knew that moments like this rarely came along. What was wrong with snatching but a moment’s happiness? On the morrow she would be back to her humble existence, struggling to save up enough money to pay for passage to Spain for her and her son and fighting the visions that haunted her, but for this night she could have revelled in passion and desire with a brave, handsome warrior.

Jerking upright, Ellise dragged her fingers through her hair until it tumbled nicely over her shoulders. She loosened the neckline of her chemise so it hung low, revealing the top of one breast. Enough hoping and dreaming. She had one night with this man and she would take it. She had herbs to prevent any babes, so why should she not?

Quietly sliding out of the heavy sheets, Ellise padded over to the washbowl, gave her teeth a quick clean with her fingers, and rinsed out her mouth. Once she’d tugged aside one curtain, allowing some moonlight into the room, she found her apron and retrieved the little bottle of rose oil. She’d been hoarding it for an age and there was only a dribble left, but now was certainly a good time to use it. She dabbed some on her wrists and neck and finally settled her gaze on the sleeping knight.

Though he slept heavily, long legs sprawled out, he would awake easily. Warriors could sleep anywhere at any time but always roused at the slightest movement. She needed to tread carefully.

Ellise approached slowly, wincing as a floorboard creaked. She paused in front of him and admired his features as his head tilted to one side. Mouth ajar, Ellise observed the full outline of his lips, so often compressed into a thin line. Aye, this man needed some happiness almost as much as she. When relaxed, his mouth was just as striking as the rest of him. His slightly weather-beaten skin and strong brow begged for her to skim her fingers over it. A tiny scar graced his forehead, just above one golden eyebrow and Ellise promised herself she would trace it during their lovemaking.

Careful not to press her weight onto him, she straddled his lap. Before she lowered herself, she danced her fingers over those lips, gratified to hear a slight groan. In a quick movement, she sank onto him and pressed her mouth to his. He came awake instantly, his whole body tensing under hers.

“What in the—” His words were muffled by her lips on his.

Ellise flattened her mouth harder against his and looped her arms around his neck. He would not deny her this. And he did not want to, if the hardening arousal against her juncture was anything go by.

“Ellise,” he muttered against her mouth as he curled his hands around her arms and attempted to pry her away, “what in God’s name are you doing?”

“I should think you would recognise a kiss,” she whispered, trying again. She bucked her hips against his hardness and sighed as it sent a dart of pleasure through her body.

“You should not be offering me this.”

“I should and I will. Forget everything. You are no captain this night, James. Nor a knight or a warrior bound by chivalry. This night you are just a man. As I am just a woman.”

James groaned and his fingers relaxed.

And then they were in her hair, tugging her head back forcefully to gain better access to her mouth. His strong tongue invaded, twining almost aggressively with hers. Ellise drew in ragged breaths as she gripped at his neck and one hand left her hair to yank at her chemise. His stubble chafed at her skin as he dragged his heated mouth across her jaw and down to the crook of her neck. The light nip of teeth made Ellise tremble and whimper as she kissed the side of his face.

“Sweet Lord, Ellise.” He punctuated his words with kisses and bites. “You taste so delicious. Hellfire, you are delicious. I could devour you.”

Ellise chuckled at the way he suddenly mastered his tongue. “It seems…” she leaned into him as he nipped his way up her neck to her ear, “….that desire makes you a maestro of words, sweet knight.”

“Nay, not desire. You, Ellise.” James drew back and clasped her face in his hands. “Are you certain this is what you want? Tell me now and we shall forget this happened. I would not hold it against you. I have no wish for you to feel beholden to me. If you do this, you do this because you want to, not because of some debt you feel you owe.”

Hips raised, she rubbed herself against his arousal, making him hiss. “I want this, James. Take me. This night.”

A feral growl rose from his chest, resonating in her own as he clasped her tightly to him, his hands coming under her bottom. He stood swiftly, making her squeal and coaxed her mouth open with his unyielding tongue. Hands still around his neck, Ellise held on for dear life as her head swam. She did not fear him dropping her, but she feared she might be consumed by lust. Her body ached and trembled and yearned for him. She’d never known anything like it.

BOOK: Borderland Betrayal
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