Knight of Passion (21 page)

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered. “Don’t ever leave me.”

“There are promises I need from you,” he said.

“Just don’t go,” she said, closing her eyes and holding him tighter. “Don’t leave me again.”

She did not care what promises she had to make. All she wanted was to be here in his arms.

“I must have your word—”

“We can speak of this later, can we not?” She dropped her hands to his buttocks. “I missed you something fierce.”

His stern expression softened. “You did?”

“Every moment,” she said, her voice growing husky. He pulled her closer and brushed his cheek against hers. Against her ear,
he said, “I missed you, too.”

She leaned back so he would see the desire in her eyes when she told him what she wanted from him. “I want you to tell me
you love me again, when you are inside me.”

Her words had precisely the effect she hoped.

Jamie crushed her against him and kissed her with a
fierceness that set fire prickling beneath her skin. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he backed her up until she leaned
against the bed. He cradled her head in his hands, his fingers splayed in her hair, and gave her an openmouthed kiss of such
hunger she wasn’t sure there would be anything left of her—and she didn’t care.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers she gasped for breath—and sucked it in again when he cupped her breasts. His groan
of need echoed her own as he buried his face in her neck. She gripped his hair in her hands as he pressed hot wet kisses down
her throat.

He spun her around and began unfastening her gown. As his fingers worked the buttons, his ragged breath was in her ear and
his shaft hard against her buttocks. Then his mouth was on her bare shoulder. Gentler now, he eased her gown and chemise down
together, kissing her bare skin in its wake. She swallowed against the surge of desire when he gripped her hips and nipped
her bottom.

A shiver of pleasure shot through her limbs as he ran his tongue up her back. When she turned in his arms, Jamie enfolded
her in an embrace that warmed and comforted her, even while it made her heart pound with anticipation. He lifted her onto
the bed and then broke away just long enough to strip off his clothes.

She opened her arms to him as he joined her on the bed. When his mouth found hers this time, it was a slow, lingering, openmouthed
kiss. They melded into each other, tongues moving in a sensuous rhythm that was a prelude of what was to come.

Praise God, Jamie was back with her. This was all she needed.
He
was all she needed.

His hand moved up her thigh, and she could not
breathe. She ached for him. Ached to have him touch her, to be inside her.

When he touched her center, she was wet with desire for him. She felt the warmth of his breath in her ear as he worked his
magic with his fingers.

“Jamie…” She tried to speak, but could not. When she tugged at his shoulder, he understood and rolled on top of her.

At last she felt the tip of his shaft against her. She lifted her hips and gasped with the rush of sensation as he plunged
into her. He paused when he was deep inside, and they clung together, both breathing hard. Then he rose on his elbows to look
into her eyes. The warmth in them enveloped her and made her heart swell with joy.

“I love you,” he said. “I’ve never stopped.”

Her body clenched around his shaft inside her.

“I love you, too,” she said.

He began moving inside her, with excruciating slowness at first, and then with an urgency that matched her own. They were
as one in their passion, their need, their love.

“I love you,” he said in a harsh gasp against her ear, and they came together in a pulsing release that staggered her with
its violence.

Afterward, she lay adrift, resting in the circle of his strong arms. When at last she roused herself to lift her head and
look at him, he gave her a wide grin.

“You did miss me, didn’t you?”

“Mmmm-hmmm.” She smiled and closed her eyes. “Perhaps you should bar the door. With so many guests in the castle, someone
might wander in looking for an empty chamber.”

“You don’t fool me. You just want to look at my bare arse.”

It was true; she did enjoy the view when he went to bar the door. And when he turned around, he looked like a Greek god with
the golden light of the brazier shining on the lines of hard muscles of his chest and arms. ’Twas a shame a man who looked
like that ever had to wear a shirt.

She sighed with contentment as he lay down beside her and drew her into his arms again.

“ ’Tis good to have you back at Windsor, Jamie Rayburn.”

“So you did not fill your time with Edmund?” he asked, and she knew he was only half joking.

“You are the only man I want,” she said, pressing her face into his neck. “It’s been that way for me from the day you rode
into Paris with the king.”

“You didn’t like me much before that, when we met in Caen,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“I was thirteen!”

“I remember you at thirteen,” he said, stroking her cheek. “You were so full of fire, and already so lovely, I am certain
you attracted all manner of inappropriate attention.”

She had hated the way men leered at her.

Jamie brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “I did not mean to make you frown.”

When she smiled up at him, he lowered his mouth to hers. She sighed with pleasure at the feel of him over her, his hard chest
pressed against her breasts. As they kissed, she ran her hands over the long line of his back to the rise of his buttocks
and back up again.

His body was more familiar to her than her own. Her fingers went to the scar where a blade had caught him in the side. Each
of his battle scars, in an odd way, reassured her that Jamie could face whatever danger fate threw at him and survive. He
was the very best of fighters.

After they made love again, she lay awake, waiting for him to renew his demand for pledges and promises. She would agree to
what she must.

How much would she have to give up for him? How far would she have to go to keep him?

Jamie told himself he should take it one step at a time. She had told him she did not want him to leave her, ever. That should
be enough for now. But it was not. He was done with pretense. He was finished with taking what he could get from her.

He should have pressed his advantage and insisted on an answer before he took her to bed. But seeing her vulnerable made him
weak. When she said she missed him, he was ready to forgive her anything. Hearing her say she wanted him inside her sent lust
roaring through him. Nothing mattered then except having her naked beneath him. His thoughts were drowned in sensation; making
love to her was all he wanted, all he knew.

But after the endless kisses, after the joining of bodies that felt like a joining of their souls, his questions returned.
He would have her answer. Her pledge. He did not want her as a lover or mistress—though he most definitely wanted her in his
bed. When a man was off fighting, he needed a home to return to. He wanted his to be with her.

“Linnet, it is time we settled matters between us.”

She turned on her side and ran a finger down his chest. “You spoke of promises before,” she said, fixing those deceptively
innocent pale-blue eyes on him. “What do you ask of me?”

That was one of the things he appreciated about her: She looked you right in the eye no matter how hard the question.

“I want us to marry.” His heart thundered in his chest as he waited for her answer.

“Are you certain you want me as your wife?”

“ ’Tis not the first time I’ve asked, as you may recall.”

“This is a serious matter. Something we should discuss dressed, I think.”

With that, she got up from the bed and slipped her chemise over her head. What was in the woman’s head?

“ ’Tis a simple question,” he said from the bed. “It requires a simple answer, yea or nay.”

He got distracted for a moment as she pulled long, silky strands of her hair out from her chemise.

“How soon do you want to marry?” she asked, crossing her arms.

She was asking when; he took that as a good sign.

“As soon as it can be done.”

“Must it be soon?” she asked.

“Aye, it must.”

She nodded but then bit her lip. Not the joyful bride he hoped for.

He got up from the bed and went to her. “What is it? Tell me what worries you.”

She gave him a long, assessing look before she spoke. “I have put a great deal of effort into building my trade,”
she said. “You would not expect me to give it up completely, would you?”

He could not help smiling, because it was so like her. She could not simply say she would be his wife; she must negotiate
the terms. Well, he had one term he would insist upon as well.

“I have no objection, so long as it does not require us to live in London.”

“A long visit once or twice a year will do.”

The radiant smile she gave him lifted his heart. At last, she seemed happy about their marriage.

“In another year,” she said, clapping her hands together and rising on her toes, “I shall have enough saved to buy your lands
for you.”

What was she talking about? “I don’t need my wife to buy lands for me.”

“I do not mean to offend you.” She rested the flat of her hand against his chest, which had an unexpected calming effect on
him. “You have need of lands, and I have the means—or will have soon. You would think nothing wrong in marrying an heiress
for her lands. Why should this be different?”

Was this the reason she wished to wait?

“I can provide you a home,” he said. “Eventually, we will have a finer one, once Bedford grants me lands for my service.”

She had distracted him from what he meant to say.

“But there is a promise you must make to me,” he said, “or we shall not marry.”

Her smile faltered. “What is it?”

“You must give up these senseless grudges. You must promise me—absolutely—that you will cease to seek
revenge on every person you believe to have wronged your family when you were a child.”

“But I have good cause,” she said with that stubborn look in her eye.

“I do not care if you do. It is dangerous, and I will not have it. How could I leave to do my duty in France, knowing you
are home in England provoking men to violence at every turn?”

More than that, he could never hope to make her happy until she gave up this obsession of hers.

She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at him, as if judging whether there was any room to negotiate.

“I’ll not move an inch on this, Linnet.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I will not be the man who has to tell his children
their mother is in the Tower for murder—or worse, that her body was found floating in the Thames.”

She looked off to the side, tapping her foot. This was hard for her, and he knew it. He waited her out.

Finally, she blew out her breath and said, “All right. I agree.”

“I will have your solemn promise on it.”

She looked as if she would rather eat worms, but he was not budging. In sooth, he would have liked to ask her to write the
promise in blood. But he was a reasonable man.

She sniffed and tilted her chin up with all the dignity of a queen being asked to relinquish her crown.

“I shall pray fervently that God punishes those who wronged my grandfather and left my brother and me to starve,” she said,
her voice edged with bitterness. “I shall
pray that they suffer in this life and burn in hell for all eternity in the next.”

“And?”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “I swear I shall cease to pursue the godforsaken demons myself.”

There, she had said it. He had won. He took her hands and lifted them to his lips.

“I have something to give you.” Jamie lifted the medal of Saint George, the dragon slayer, from around his neck and slipped
the silver chain over her head.

“But King Henry gave that to you,” Linnet protested. “I cannot take it.”

“It is a saint for soldiers,” he said, smiling down at her. “But with the trouble you get into, I would feel better if you
wore it.”

Linnet lifted the medal from where it rested between her breasts and touched it to her lips.

“Thank you,” she said, blinking back tears. “I shall never take it off.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Now it would be nice if you told me you love me and want to be my wife.”

“I do love you.” She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “I could not give you up again.”

Joy and a quiet sense of peace settled over him as he held her in his arms. She was his now.

Then she leaned back and looked up at him from under her lashes. “I have a confession to make.”

Damn. He didn’t want to hear this. He tensed, hoping her confession would not make him have to kill Edmund Beaufort.

“I like to listen to the tales of your victories.”

He laughed. “Now I believe you love me.”

“I love you with all my heart, Jamie Rayburn.”

Jamie held her to him and closed his eyes. Five years he had waited for this. At long last, Linnet was truly his.

All he wanted would be his.

L
innet clapped with the others as the mummers cavorted through the hall in their masks. All through yuletide, there had been
lavish entertainments, from dancing bears to acrobats. In the lower ward, there were cock and dog fights, which she despised,
but those were easily avoided.

The sounds of harp, flute, and tabor floated down from the gallery as people milled about, stretching their legs and making
conversation before the next round of entertainment.

Linnet and Queen Katherine stood side by side with their backs to the wall. Speaking in low voices, they gossiped good-naturedly
about various nobles and merchants in the Great Hall.

“That young squire of Sir James’s is going to have all the ladies sighing in a year or two,” the queen remarked.