Joust of Hearts (9 page)

After supper had been cleared, conversations went on around Melisande as she listened half-heartedly to the murmurings of the people in the room. She’d folded her hands tightly in her lap while she wondered at her reckless behavior and hoped that the fires of hell did not yawn before her.
Why does this man bewitch me so? When he steps into the room, everything I have been taught about propriety flies out of my head, as birds fly out of a pie that had not the proper time to bake. If any other woman were in this situation, would she feel the same way? He is more thoughtful than any man I’ve known. Why, his wit and charm alone melt down any and all of my defenses. I really shouldn’t…

Melisande glanced over at Devin, who had been watching her from across the room for nearly the entire meal. From over the top of his wine goblet, he stared at her as if in a trance. Melisande could not help but return his gaze.
Aye
, she thought,
any woman would be helplessly lost and at the mercy of his penetrating eyes.
Devin made her feel alive, desirable. He wanted her, and it had such a stirring effect as if it would topple the hills themselves.

“Would you not agree, Lady Dupree?” Lord Bergavny’s voice penetrated Melisande’s thoughts.

Melisande turned to him, having no idea of what he was speaking. “Aye, most definitely, my lord,” she said with a demure smile then turned to Helena, who was sitting to his right. “I am ready to go to my room, Helena. Will you escort me?” she asked quietly.

Helena looked at Devin and back at Melisande. “Mayhaps Devin would see to that task for me this eve.”

She would have swooned had there been Helena’s companions present, but mercifully, the Bergavnys and Devin were the only witnesses to the exchange. Melisande’s mouth fell open as horrified disbelief overcame her.

“Helena, my dove”—Melisande heard Fitzherbert softly address his wife—“would that be proper? I mean, after all—”

Helena leaned closer to his ear and whispered something no one else heard. Fitzherbert’s face turned red and a great, wide smile spread across the expanse. “Very well then, you are both excused for the evening,” he declared.

Melisande flushed, imagining the juicy bit of gossip Helena had just presented to her husband. She couldn’t believe any of this. She started to stand and Devin was instantaneously next to her, offering her his arm. She accepted the help only to steady herself she avowed as they headed for the stairs.

“Sleep well, my dear,” Helena bade.

Devin glanced over his shoulder and Fitzherbert winked at him. Devin grinned and reached up to wave back in acknowledgment.

Melisande tugged on Devin’s arm to gain his attention. “Can you think about what this must look like, Devin?”

“Nay, forsooth, I am thinking about what it shall look like the moment I get you alone.”

“Devin! Where is the seriousness of the matter?” Melisande scolded with a harsh whisper. “We mustn’t depart in such an obvious manner.”

“Pray, my lady, why should you be ill at ease? These are dear friends we’ve just supped with, not pious priests.”

Melisande refused to believe that Helena and her husband would condone this sort of behavior in their home. Helena could have at least provided an excuse for Melisande, as opposed to helping her into a large basket headed straight for the fiery lake.

They reached the top of the stairs. “You go toward the stairs to your chambers and I shall go to mine and we will say our good evens from there,” Melisande suggested.

“You can’t be serious.” Devin chuckled aloud.

“Shh…” She looked over her shoulder and down the hall. “Just do this one thing for me,” she pleaded.

“And how shall you repay me?”

She didn’t need to be a scholar to know exactly what he wanted. Embarrassed, Melisande directed her gaze to the ground. “I can think of no way.”

Devin’s voice changed from mirth to a low calm. “Then allow me. Come to me this night.” He lifted her chin with his knuckle so he could look into her eyes. “You know how much we both want this.”

“Nay. Truly. I-I mustn’t,” she whispered, shaking her head.

Devin’s finger traced a path down her throat. “Melisande, I desire you as I do no other, and can see that you want me as well.”

Melisande closed her eyes for a moment, his warm words heating her being. “Very well.” The response seemed to escape her lips in quiet surrender without her even trying.

Devin considered her for a short moment then a look of pleased surprise appeared upon his face. “How long?”

“Just wait for me,” she answered, her gaze once again lowering to the stone floor.

“Please, make haste, for I cannot bear much more of this torture.” He took Melisande’s hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

They reached their doors, and from across the corridor, as if she were making a pronouncement, Melisande said, “Gramercy, Devin.”

Devin shook his head, smiled and returned in his rich, deep voice, “Goodnight then, Lady Melisande.”

At the bottom of the stairs in the great hall, Helena and Fitzherbert covered their laughter with their fingertips.

“You, wife, are the devil’s own helper.”

“Nay not, my lord. Oft new love must needs be encouraged—as a mother sparrow nudges her chick from the nest.”

He took her hand, pulled her over onto his lap and buried his face in her neck. “Come, wench,” he murmured. “Let us retire from this room, and find a quiet spot to remember what it was like when we were young lovers.”

“Oh, Fitzherbert!” Helena giggled.

* * * *

Melisande ordered a basin of scented water to her room, and had Maggie coil and secure a braid at the top of her head. When the wash water arrived, she dismissed the girls and used a good portion of the perfumed French soap, a luxury item she’d like to have a wagonload of.

Satisfied, she made good use of the drying cloth, then slipped her arms through a thin white robe, deliberately excluding her chemise. A shiver of delight trickled up her spine at the thought of her scandalous behavior. And yet, as she snuffed out her candle and lay down upon the bed, her stomach flip-flopped with embarrassment. Pushing her whirling thoughts aside, she closed her eyes and waited for the household to settle in for the night.

* * * *

Melisande gasped and sat up. How long had she been asleep? Her tardiness must be a sign from above
. Mayhaps I should not go.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, hoping to clear her thoughts, then after a moment, stepped barefoot onto the rush-covered floor and remembered her state of undress. Wrapping the flimsy fabric tighter around her body, she bound it with a long white hair ribbon about her waist so that it held fast.

After deciding to not wear her soft leather slippers in case they made too much noise, she crossed the floor of her room. She paused as she wondered at how her thoughts flitted about, as if her mind was attempting to discredit the task before her.

The indecisiveness she was experiencing was enough to make a person run mad. Her mind would say one thing and her heart would echo contradictorily. In fact, ever since she’d met Devin it had been this way. It was as if Melisande was caught between two worlds and they were both trying to tell her what to do. Was she the only person in all of England who battled with their own wits?

Melisande paused just inside her door, about to change her mind yet again, when she remembered something. She had given her word to Devin. Melisande placed her knuckles on her forehead and paced toward her bed and back again.
What to do! What to do!

What if she just looked in on him, and if he were asleep, she could unkiss the agreement and say that she too had fallen asleep?

That was it. Her decision was now set in stone.

Melisande pulled on the heavy oak door and peered out into the passage.

Empty.

Taking little notice of the cold flagstone against the bottom of her feet, she felt her breathing draw in then rush back out of her lungs so loudly that she was sure it echoed down the corridor. With every step she took, she pictured how he looked at her, how his hands felt on her body, his enticing male scent. Melisande started to shake. Was she cold or was she frightened that he might still be awake?

At his door, she took a deep breath and silently pushed it open just enough to slip through. By the light of a single candle, he looked to be asleep. Relief and disappointment clashed within her as if they were engaged in an intense wrestling match out on the lists. She began to back out of the room.

“Melisande?” Devin called to her softly from the bed.

“Aye?” her barely audible voice escaped from her throat.

“I pray you, enter.”

Mercy, how I want to
.
And yet, I’m afraid. I wish for a glimpse of heaven and run at the first sight of it.

Just being in the same room with him made her want to feel his body pressed against hers. It was a much easier decision when he was absent from her sight. Or was it?

I long to be touched by his strong hands.

If only someone else would make the decision for her, someone quite removed from the situation.

“Come to me.” Devin’s voice sounded gentle but urgent.

Again she felt the now familiar yet extraordinary pull toward him. At once the voices and warring emotions ceased, leaving behind the fading sounds of words unspoken. Arriving at the conclusion that her heart had won the debate, Melisande closed the door behind her and started toward his bed.

She wanted him. God forgive her, but she wanted him. She was no silly virgin. Pretending to be so would be a mockery.

Melisande ascended the two steps at the foot of the bed as if in a trance and looked at Devin for a moment. She then untied her robe and let it fall away.

Devin’s gaze caressed her and he held out his hand to her. “Never have I desired a woman this much in my entire life.”

His whispered sentiment left a mark upon her heart. Not in a million years would she forget his words. She climbed up, took his hand, and knelt on the bed before him. Devin sat up to share her position and Melisande pressed herself against him, suddenly embarrassed by her uncovered body.

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat and he proceeded to uncoil the braid from atop her head.

Once her hair was down and falling over her shoulders and breasts, Melisande lifted her hands to brush the stray hairs from her face. Devin pulled back from her just enough to get a long glimpse of her bare chest. Soon after, his hands followed where his gaze had been.

Melisande could no longer wait to touch him. She explored his thickly muscled torso and arms with her hands, in awe over the strength of him. His young, tight body was a new and wondrous experience for her.

In silence, they touched, kissed and nibbled by the light of the candle, exploring each other, memorizing, worshiping. The soft kisses Devin placed over her chest, shoulders and neck made Melisande quiver as desire lanced through to her very soul. He was so gentle with her, timid even, and yet it seemed he knew exactly what he was doing, making her feel cherished and adored.

She lightly scratched her nails down the back of his head, her hands buried in his soft golden-brown hair. Devin blazed a hot trail with his mouth across her cheek until their lips met, and at the same time, his hand skimmed over her hip and across her belly while the other rested on the small of her back. When his fingers threaded through the curls at the juncture of her thighs, she drew in a shuddering breath and exhaled Devin’s name, urging him on. Clutching at his shoulders to steady herself, she found them rock-hard, yet warm, adding to the thrill of his closeness.

His hand slid lower, his touch almost tickling, then he nudged between her folds with such skill she found she could barely breathe. Each caress seemed like she’d never experienced such a thing before. Applying more pressure at her back, he held her captive between his vise-like hands. Her head lolled back as he teased her opening, barely inching a digit inside then out to skim the flesh once again, his rhythm never faltering. She sensed a frenzy begin deep within her belly, like heavy rain clouds threatening to drench the land.

He withdrew his fingers and it felt as if he’d ripped her from slumber. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Touch me there again, in that same way.”

He did as she had bidden. “You like it when I stroke you between your legs, don’t you?”

Her shameless panting answered for her, the pressure building beneath his play.

“It makes you wet, readies you for my cock.”

At his words she cried out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Like a storm her climax was—fierce, unrelenting—and she wished it would never stop. Her hips strained forward, succumbing to this new magic he’d drawn from her.

Still on his knees, Devin lowered them both to the bed so that he lay atop her. His skin was almost hot to the touch, his length covered her, enveloped her. She complied readily when he coaxed her knees apart.

His cock slid over the soaked flesh between her legs, teasing her again the way he had with his fingers, circling, almost entering but pulling back. She thrust her hips forward, begging him to slip inside.

“Are you ready for me, wench?”

“Aye,” she sighed, very near another climax. “Make haste lest I expire from wanting you.”

At last his cock penetrated her, filling her completely. She felt stretched, ready to burst and teeming with the most luxurious sensation. In and out he stroked, her hips following his cadence. Her body buzzed like the wings of a hummingbird, her muscles strained under the weight of his body, reaching for more. With her arms wrapped around his neck and his tantalizing invasion insistent, stroking, caressing, she knew their spirits had melded together somehow. He took her higher than she had ever been with Liam, and her lusty cries seemed only to encourage him.

Devin’s actions became insistent. Melisande tried to meet him halfway, but he was in complete control, so she wrapped her legs around him, glorying in the strength of him. Melisande’s world shattered as Devin drove into the depths of her soul. Just when she thought she could take no more of his body’s demands, Devin continued to deliver to her his sweet violence, causing her to climax again. Once the waves subsided, he finally poured forth a sigh that was more a growl. His body shuddered.