Master of Desire (9 page)

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Authors: Kinley MacGregor

BOOK: Master of Desire
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Before she could recover, she heard Simon's voice on the stairs. “What do you mean you're bound for Lincoln?”

“You know the king ordered me—”

“But
now
?” Simon almost roared.

“Now is as good a time as any,” Draven said in that low, almost lethal tone of his.

Simon snorted. “It's her, isn't it?”

Emily's heart leaped at the words. Hurrying to the wall just inside the hall, she pressed herself flat against it and listened carefully.

“Don't be absurd,” Draven snarled. “I told you the lady is nothing to me.”

“Then why have you moved your trip up?”

“Because it suits me to.”

“And why is that?”

“Simon, lay the matter aside. I am bound for Lincoln. The lady is in your care until I return. I trust you can see to her safety?”

“Aye, I'll see to her safety. But know this, Draven. You can't run from her forever. Sooner or later you'll have to return.”

She heard Draven pause just on the other side of her wall. “Think so? I do believe there are plans for a Crusade brewing in Normandy. Perhaps—”

“Henry would never relieve you from his service long enough to crusade and well you know it.”

“You'd be amazed what the king would do should I ask it of him.”

There were several seconds of silence before Simon spoke again. “Very well, go to Lincoln. But know this. I never thought I'd see the day you retreated from anything, least of all a mere slip of a woman.”

She turned her head to see Simon stalk angrily out of the door and then slam it shut. No sooner had the door closed behind him than she heard Draven's muffled words.

“And never did I think I would find a woman I wanted so badly.” He sighed wistfully. “Beauty, you're a treacherous lure with a deadly hook, and this fish has no choice except to flee before it gets caught.”

Emily flattened herself against the wall as he descended the steps, then followed after Simon.

For several minutes, she just stood there sifting through his words.

“And never did I think I would find a woman I wanted so badly.”

Unlike remarks from Theodore, who constantly accosted her with such comments, Draven's words were special, for he had never intended another soul to hear them. A strange tenderness came to her. One she couldn't define and she wasn't really sure why she felt it.

They were just words. And yet…

They were special.

Emily smiled. If he truly felt that, then she stood a hope of her goal.

But not if she let him get away.

“M
ilord?”

Draven turned from his horse at Emily's voice. Of all the wretched luck! One minute more and he would have been mounted and out of her reach.

“Milady?” he asked in a voice that bordered between confounded ire and pleasantry.

She came to rest in front of him and looked questioningly at his packed horse. “You're leaving?”

“I have royal duties in Lincoln.”

“Lincoln?” Emily repeated, her eyes wide and beguiling. “Oh, I've always wanted to go to Lincoln. I've heard they have a most wondrous fair there this time of year.”

“They do,” Simon said as he came up behind her. Simon stared pointedly at Draven as he continued, “One of the largest in the region.”

“Truly?” she asked.

“A fair is a fair,” Draven groused, aggravated that Simon would dare attempt to manipulate him thusly. “You can't tell one from another.”

She looked alluring, provocative, and so sweet he wanted nothing more than to take a gentle nip of her flesh to see if indeed she were coated in honey, or if the light golden glow was merely the true color of her skin.

“I wouldn't know, milord,” she said softly, her face falling as sadness possessed her. “I have never been to a fair.”

A twinge of something strange ran though him. It felt like a tugging at his heart for her having missed something she obviously wanted to do.

“Never?” Simon asked, his voice aghast.

Draven glared at his brother.

“Never,” she said, drawing Draven's attention back to her. Her bottom lip poked out ever so slightly in an attractive pout. “My father wouldn't allow it. He said there was naught to be found at a fair save debauchery.” She looked up at Draven. “I would so love to see a fair just once.”

Draven barely heard her words, for his attention was captivated by the sparkle in her eyes. The moistness of her lips. Captivated by an image of him drawing her seductive bottom lip between his teeth and savoring the treasure of her mouth.

“Would it be possible for me to accompany you?” she asked.

Aye
almost slipped out of his mouth before he caught himself.

Aye?!
he railed at his treacherous mind. She was the whole reason he was headed to Lincoln! Taking her with him would defeat the entire purpose of the journey.

“Nay, milady,” he said grabbing his horse's reins. “'Tis impossible.”

“But milord—”

“I have the king's duties to attend,” he said far more gruffly than he meant to.

“Oh.” Her face fell, and the sadness in her eyes tore at him. Draven didn't want to make her unhappy, any more than he wanted Henry to end his life.

And for some reason he couldn't name, her happiness became important to him.

“How about if I go with her?” Simon asked. “I can see to the lady's welfare while you attend your
business
.”

Draven narrowed his eyes at his brother. Did the man want him to die? Rather Simon should take a dagger to his back than evoke Henry's wrath upon his head. The last thing on earth Draven desired was to be hanged, drawn and quartered over a woman.

Emily's face instantly beamed at the prospect of joining him. “Oh, please!”

His gut wrenched at her sweet voice and the look of anticipation on her face. How could he ever deny her so simple a request?

He made the mistake of looking at her again. She held her hands clasped between her breasts and bit her lip as if a denial from him would send her off into tears.

“I could be packed before you know,” she said excitedly. “And I promise I won't be a burden. Why, you'll not even know I'm along.”

He doubted that. She had a terrible way of invading his thoughts.

“Please?” she begged.

This was a bad idea. He knew it with every breath he took and yet he couldn't find it within him to disappoint her again.

You have to die sometime.

Aye, but there are far more desirable ends.

Desirable perhaps, but then so was the look of happiness on her face. Besides, he could stay away from her in Lincoln and force Simon to look after her. And there would be Orrick's wife there to entertain her as well.

Aye, he could stay away from her. He
would
stay away from her.

“Very well, milady. If you hurry, I shall wait.”

She bestowed a bright smile upon him that made him feel weak in the knees. Or mayhap in his head.

Aye, he was definitely weak in the head for allowing her to accompany him.

“Thank you!” she breathed, then did the most unexpected thing. She raised up on her toes and lightly kissed his cheek.

Draven's entire body erupted into flames, and it took every ounce of his control not to pull her to him and give her a much more satisfying kiss.

She took a step back, smiled again, then turned about and rushed up the stairs. His cheek burning from her lips, he watched the way her hips swayed as she ascended the steps and vanished inside.

He hated to admit it, but the lady had a most attractive bottom. And in that instant his dream came back to him with stunning clarity, and he actually swore he could feel himself well planted between her silken thighs.

Clenching his teeth, he winced. This was going to be a long,
long
journey.

Simon stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “Nothing better than making a maid happy, is there?”

“Aye, there most assuredly is.”

Simon cocked a puzzled brow.

“Skewering my meddlesome brother would definitely be better.”

Simon laughed. “Then I'd best go pack so that I won't be directly in your sight for the next few minutes.”

“You do that, Simon, and while you're at it, make sure to find your common sense and bring it along as well.”

 

Two hours later Draven and his men hadn't so much as climbed into their saddles while they waited for the lady. Even Simon was beginning to look irritated.

“What the devil is taking so long?” Draven snarled as he paced before the steps.

“Druce,” he called to his squire. “Go to the lady,
again,
and tell her we must be on our way lest we not clear the woods before nightfall. If she's not here forthwith, I shall leave her behind.”

“Aye, milord.”

Draven turned to glare at Simon.

Simon looked away sheepishly, and shuffled his feet.

The door of the keep opened.

“Here she is, milord,” Druce called.

Draven glanced back over his shoulder and froze.

Emily descended the steps like a graceful angel draped in a dark green kirtle and veil. The sunlight caught on her gold girdle, which highlighted the gentle sway of her hips. She looked at him with a dazzling smile, and all his anger at her delay evaporated.

Until he saw the two trunks following behind her.

This was ridiculous! The last thing he needed was to have to bring along a supply wagon. He'd always been a man to travel lightly. Get where he was going and quickly return.

Take only what he needed.

By all that was holy, he had no intention of slowing them down just so she could bring her entire wardrobe. 'Twas bad enough to keep him waiting, but this…this was ludicrous, and he would be tested no more!

His anger mounted.

What did she think this was? A game?

Well, he would show her he wasn't one to toy with. He was a man of action. One in control of his destiny and of all those around him. He wouldn't be made a mockery by a woman.

“What did you pack now?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice, crossing the short distance between them.

“Only the essentials, milord,” she said, looking up at him innocently.

Simon roared with laughter.

Draven narrowed his glare on the trunks. “We cannot carry all that. You'll have to leave it behind.”

“But, milord—”

“Nay, lady, I will not yield on this.”

“But—”

“One kirtle, one veil, and whatever personal items you require. That is all.” He went to the horse Druce had saddled for her and pulled the saddlebags from it. “Whatever fits in here you may take. Everything else is to be left.”

She looked incredulous. “My kirtle alone would fill
that
to overflowing.”

“This is all you're allowed.”

Anger sparked in her eyes. “This is beastly! Would you treat the king thusly?”

“Aye, I have, point of fact.” And he had, too, to Henry's chagrin.

“Fine,” she said, taking the saddlebags from his hand. “'Twould serve you right if I stayed behind.”

Draven was aghast. Only a woman would use
that
logic! “If you'll bloody well recall, I didn't want you to come with us to begin with.”

“Don't you dare curse at me,” she said defensively. She stood on her tiptoes and stared straight into his eyes.

Never before had anyone stood up to him and he found it….

Entertaining, actually, he thought, as some of his ire dissipated. Far more entertaining than he would have thought.

Why, even Simon cowered beneath the weight of his anger. But not Emily. She stood her ground like a knight armed for battle.

“And,” she said, stressing her words. “I'm coming, all right. I'll not let you deprive me of my adventure. I will enjoy it in spite of you.”

She lifted her chin up in a final bout of daring and spun away as if her dignity had been greatly abused.

Her eyes narrowed, she lifted the top of the trunk closest to her and dug through it until she found a dark blue kirtle, matching veil, brush, and comb.

She made a grand showing of packing her garments. The last two items she picked up between her thumb and first finger, glared at him, then placed them in the saddlebags. She took her time tying the saddlebags closed, then returned them to his hand.

“'Twould seem I am all packed now,” she said. “I do have one question though.”

This he couldn't wait to hear. “And that is?”

“Will my maid be allowed to join me or is she to be left behind as well?”

Though her actions and words amused him, he didn't dare let her know it. If she thought she had power over him, there was no telling what she might brave, and he didn't dare run the risk of her actually enraging him past his control.

“Milady, have you no sense to be testing me in this manner?”

“You will find I have plenty of sense, but I will not be bullied by you or any man for that matter.”

“Bullied?” he repeated incredulously. “You think me a bully?”

“What else would you call it? You expect the entire world to dance when you snap your fingers. You know, milord, there are other people here besides yourself.”

Draven felt his jaw slacken. “I could certainly say the same of you.”

Instead of being offended, she gave him a sweet, beguiling smile. “I admit freely that I am spoiled. My father and sisters have harped upon it at great leisure. For that I would beg your indulgence. Now, is my maid to come along, or shall I send her back inside?”

That was well done, he thought as he watched her. He'd often heard people remark on someone being charming, but this was the first time he had ever witnessed it. No wonder her father spoiled her. How could one stay perturbed at such a sweet, innocent look as she admitted her flaws and begged indulgence?

“Bring her.”

“Thank you.”

Her head held high, she walked past him to the side of her horse.

Simon moved to assist her, but Draven pulled him back. “If I am the one she insults, then I shall be the one to set her on her arse,” he said under his breath.

Knowing when not to laugh, Simon cleared his throat. “I'll see her maid settled.”

As Draven approached Emily, he couldn't miss the look of challenge in her eyes, or the enjoyment she took from having bested him.

“Did you make me wait apurpose?” he asked.

She gave a tiny smile. “My maid said a lady should make a man wait for her. If a man stews long enough in anticipation, then he is more likely to savor a lady's presence.”

“Well, if pleasures are greatest in anticipation, then the same can be said of trouble.”

“Are you flirting with me?” she teased.

Draven went cold. Aye, he was indeed flirting with her! He, who had never attempted such before, was actually doing it now and with a woman who would be his death.

“I never flirt,” he said, then placed his hands around her waist.

The smallness of her bones amazed him. She scarce weighed anything at all. His hands looked large in comparison to the size of her hips, and he could feel the heat of her skin through the cloth of her kirtle. What had he been thinking? He should have allowed Simon to do this.

But he hadn't.

Committed to the deed, he sought to end it as quickly as possible. He lifted her from the ground and set her on the back of her steed.

He diverted his gaze from her thankful smile and made the mistake of looking at her leg at the precise moment she adjusted her skirt around her. She flashed him the sight of one trim ankle encased by finely woven stocking that also hugged the contours of her calf.

Draven stifled a curse as his body reacted instantly. From what little he had seen, she had a beautiful leg, and nothing would give him greater pleasure than to lift her skirt and explore the length of it with his lips. His tongue.

Grinding his teeth, he forced the thought from his mind. He would think no more of her ankle, her toes, her…whatever.

She would be banished from his thoughts!

Leaving her side, he walked stiffly to his horse and mounted. Once Simon swung himself up on his horse, he gave the signal to start the journey.

 

Emily rode in silence. But her mind raced at all that had transpired.

You are mad for teasing him. You're lucky he didn't strangle you for your behavior, and in front of his men no less! What would Father say?

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