Midnight Warrior (11 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: Midnight Warrior
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“I’m truly sorry,” Brynn said. “I meant you no harm.” He was a trifle pale and wan but not exhausted. She breathed a sigh of relief. A nap and food and any damage incurred would be fixed. “I’ll fix you a cup of broth and then—”

“Broth?” His eyes widened in alarm. “I told you I was fine. I have suffered no harm from this journey. On second thought, I’m not really tired at all.”

“But you said—” Then she understood and began to laugh. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I am not sure I trust you. I think you would use any means to make me well.” He waved his hand. “Go away and let me sleep. I don’t have the energy to argue at present and I will have to show you later that I have lost no strength.”

“You are not being—” He had already closed his eyes and she shook her head resignedly. It would do no harm to let him nap first and eat later. A long rest might be the best medicine for him. “As you wish.”

He opened one suspicious eye. “Such meekness. Are you planning something?”

“Perhaps.” He deserved a little worry for his lack of faith in her word. She smiled mischievously over her shoulder as she left the tent. “I will start your broth cooking.”

She heard his groan.

“You appear pleased with yourself.”

Her smile instantly disappeared when she saw Gage standing beside the small fire outside the tent. She had not seen him since that instance on the trail, but she had known this moment would come.

“How is Malik?” he asked.

“Better than I feared. I don’t think the journey hurt him. But he’s very tired; he’s almost asleep already.” She tried to tear her gaze away from his and failed. She felt … seared. “I need to talk with you.”

“Talk?” he repeated softly. “That’s not the need I saw in you a short time ago.”

“You are mistaken.”

“No, you are lying.” His lips twisted. “I’m disappointed. I thought you above such subterfuge. Do you wish me to use force so that you may claim virtue later? It is all the same to me.” He took a step toward her. “Just don’t drag the play on too long. My patience is wearing thin. Come along.”

She took a step back. “Malik. I—was going to make him some broth to eat when he woke.”

“Later.” His big hand encircled her wrist and he strode away from the tent, pulling her behind him. As they passed LeFont, he tossed out, “Keep an eye on Malik. We’ll be down by the pond.”

LeFont nodded and smiled. “I’ll make sure you are not disturbed, my lord.”

Her heart leapt as she stumbled after Gage. It was coming. LeFont knew it. Dear heaven, and she knew it. Think. She had to think. He was not a man driven
entirely by lust. Merchant, musician, poet, Malik had said. King. He wanted to rule. A woman was nothing to a man when compared to such a prize. Her breath was coming in short pants as he jerked her into the trees.

He released her wrist and turned away from her. “Undress.” He took off his cloak and spread it on the leaves carpeting the forest floor. “Be quick.”

“No.”

He whirled on her. “What ploy is this?”

She moistened her lips. “No ploy. I told you I wanted to talk.”

“Is this a game your Lord Richard taught you?” He pushed her back against the oak tree. “I have no liking for such teasing.”

“I don’t know how to tease. I’m telling you the truth. I do not want this.”

“The hell you don’t.” His palm reached out and covered her breast.

Her heart stopped and then began to pound wildly. She could feel the warmth and hardness through the thin layer of wool that separated his callused hand from her breast, and it was causing a strange change in her body. The nipple was hardening, peaking, and her breast was swelling. She looked down in fascination at his huge hand cupping and squeezing her. She had a sudden desire to know how it would feel to have both his hands on her breasts.

“The hell you don’t,” he repeated, but the harshness was gone from his tone, leaving only silken sensuality. “I’m not a fool. You want it.” His thumb and forefinger gently pinched her nipple.

A streak of fire surged through her. No, fire was pain and this was not pain. It was heavier, throbbing, wilder than anything she had ever felt before.

He bent his head and his mouth hovered over her breast while his hand lazily squeezed the other. His breath was warm and she could feel her nipple rise as if
to meet him. “You see?” His tongue licked delicately at her nipple through the rough cloth. “You
are
teasing me. Now, take off that gown and let us enjoy each other.”

She bit back a cry as she arched against the tree. She wanted him to strip the gown from her. She wanted to fall naked to the ground and open her thighs so that he could do with her as he would. Was this what Delmas and Lord Richard felt when they were rutting? she wondered hazily. She had not thought women could feel this animal need. It had no dignity …

She would not be an animal. She would not be a vessel for him to spend his lust. She would not be—

His teeth bit gently on the nipple he’d brought to full arousal.

She groaned and her hands reached up to touch his hair. Closer. She wanted him closer. She arched up toward his mouth, offering more.

“Yes,” he muttered. His hands went around to cup her buttocks and bring her into the hollow of his hips. Arousal. Hard, unrelenting … “Spread your legs. That’s right … Now let me—”

She must not—she would not be his whore. To bargain something of value was one thing, but she was giving herself to him freely. It was somehow much worse than—

She tore away from him. “No!”

He stared at her in astonishment. She had caught him off guard, she realized. He had thought he had bent her to his will. He shook the hair out of his eyes and said with dangerous softness, “Come here. I will not be played with.”

Play? She could have laughed aloud if she had not felt so desperate. She was shaking in every limb and felt curiously incomplete. Dear heaven, she wanted to return to him, to let him … She shook her head. “Why will you not listen? I have to talk … we need to barter.”

He went still and then a cynical smile touched his lips. “Forgive me. I thought since you belonged to me that the usual haggling was unnecessary. What’s your price? What do you want for taking me between your legs?”

The crudity of the question jarred her, and she found the madness leaving her. She drew a deep breath and stood up straighter. “You don’t understand.”

“On the contrary, there’s nothing I understand better than the barter. Come now, don’t hesitate. I’m a very rich man and I prefer a willing wench.”

“You could be richer. You could have the wealth that most men only dream about.”

“You’re very greedy. I assure you I’m rich enough to pay you handsomely for your favors.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” She gestured impatiently. “I don’t want you to pay me. I want to pay you.”

“I’m weary of this nonsense.” He took a step nearer. “If you think anticipation will cause my lust to sharpen, you’re wrong.” His tone roughened. “By God, I could not want you more.”

“It’s not nonsense.” She backed away again. “Malik says you would like to be king. I can give that to you.”

His skeptical glance ran over her coarse brown gown. “Indeed? Are slaves ruling the world now? Or perhaps you intend to use sorcery to do it?”

She ignored the mockery. “I told you I was no sorceress, but I can give you what you want. Providing a crown can be bought.”

“Oh, anything can be bought with the right exchange. However, the price of a throne is too high even for me.”

“Then I know where there is a treasure that would buy a thousand thrones.”

Slowly the mockery faded from his face. “I believe you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“Let me understand you. You wish to ransom your virtue and your freedom for this incredible treasure?”

She frowned. “Don’t be foolish. Neither of those is yours to give. I would not barter Gwynthal for something that is only mine to yield or take.”

“Gwynthal?”

“The place of my birth.”

“And the cache for this splendid treasure?”

She nodded. “You have never seen a treasure so beautiful. Emeralds and rubies and bowls of gold …” She trailed off as she realized he was looking at her totally without expression. “You don’t believe me. I can prove it to you.”

“How?”

“Come with me to Redfern.”

“And you will show me this treasure? I thought it was at this Gwynthal.”

“It is, but I can show you at Redfern that it exists.” He said nothing, and she asked, “Why do you hesitate? I’m giving you what you want.”

“You have given me nothing.” His eyes went over her, lingering on her breasts. “Nothing.”

Heat moved through her again, and for a moment she felt as if she were once more pinned to that tree, his huge body rubbing against her. She lifted her chin. “I barter with a treasure beyond price and all you can talk about is coupling.”

“Perhaps because it’s all I can think about.” His gaze lifted to her face. “What will you take for this treasure beyond price?”

He still did not believe her but, at least, he was no longer on the edge of reaching out and taking what he wanted. “I wish safe passage to Gwynthal and your protection on the journey. When we arrive there and you have the treasure, I wish you to go away and leave me at Gwynthal.” She added caustically, “It is very little to ask for a throne.”

“Very little.” He smiled. “If there is a treasure. I admit I find it curious that a slave would not use the treasure herself to purchase her freedom, if not a throne.”

“Come to Redfern and I will give you proof.”

Instead of assenting, he asked, “Why do you want to go to Redfern so badly?”

“The proof is there.”

He slowly shook his head. “That is not all, is it?”

She was tempted to tell him of Adwen, but it was possible he might suspect she was luring him to Redfern only for her sake. Actually, that was close to the truth. “It is all that concerns you.”

His lips tightened. “But not all that concerns you. Could it be that you’re yearning for that handsome Judas who was so eager to pander you?”

“The proof is there,” she said again. “Malik will be well enough to travel in a week’s time. Go to Redfern and you will have no need to curry favor with William for a paltry holding.”

“I don’t curry favor.” He studied her and then said softly, “You
are
trying to play games with me. You expected that gibe to annoy me.”

Dear heaven, he was clever. “Why should I do that?”

“To goad me to do what you wish.”

“I’m giving you what you want,” she said desperately. “Why will you not listen?”

“Because I don’t believe in mythical treasures.”

“Then you’re a fool!”

Astonishment showed on his face. “By God, it’s possible you actually think you could give me this treasure.”

“Go to Redfern.”

He shook his head. “William is already irritated because I stayed here when Malik was wounded. It would not be wise to delay joining him.”

“You said you did not curry favor.”

“I also don’t make the mistake of defying a monarch when it will bring me nothing in return.”

“I told you—”

“But you did not convince me. You may believe what you say, but you also think you can heal a man by sleeping with him.” He suddenly smiled with infinite sensuality and held out his hand. “Come. Heal my affliction, Brynn of Falkhaar.”

“No!” She suddenly lost her temper. “Why should I? You’re a stupid, blind Norman who would rather rut than reach out and grasp what is important to him. You deserve to wallow in William’s dust. Malik was wrong. You have the brains of an ox and would rather sink in the mud than—”

“Enough.”

“It is not enough. You come here and ride over me as if I were nothing and then think I should lie down at your bidding and—”

“I said enough!” He was suddenly towering over her, his hand covering her mouth as he glared into her eyes. “I have treated you with more patience than you deserve. I can do with you as I wish. You
belong
to me.”

She bit down on his palm, and when he withdrew it with a curse she said, “I belong to no one.”

“Not even to your pretty Lord Richard?” His hand closed on her breast and there was no gentleness in his grasp, only possession. “Forget him. You will never see him or Redfern again.”

Why did he persist in thinking she wanted to remember that beast? He was important only as a threat to Adwen. “I have to go to Redfern. It is—” She gave a low cry as his hand involuntarily tightened on her breast.

To her surprise, he gave a low exclamation and his hand moved away from her. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t
realize—” He whirled away from her and said haltingly, “It is not my custom to brutalize women.”

She continued to stare at him in surprise. He appeared genuinely upset that he had hurt her. Neither Delmas nor Lord Richard would have given a thought to her pain if it had gotten them what they wanted.

He turned back and glowered at her. “Though it is entirely your own fault. You would tempt a saint to violence.”

“You bear no resemblance to a saint.”

“You see? You have a tongue that would burn—” He stopped and was clearly trying to gather his composure. “I have no desire to hurt you.”

“You do not think rape would hurt me?”

“Not if you didn’t fight me.”

“Is that all you want? A body to lie lax and lifeless while you spend yourself?”

“It is what most men would—” He broke off and then the words tumbled fiercely. “No, by God, I want you hot and willing. I want you to moan and shake when I enter you. I want you to move against me and let me have you any way I want you.”

She was trembling now. “I cannot give you willingness. It will not happen.”

“It almost did. It will again. Your Lord Richard was right; you do have a passionate nature.” His lips twisted, “But it seems I must teach you to channel it only in my direction,”

Passion? Was that hot, powerful compulsion really passion? Whatever it was, it was too strong and must be banished. “I don’t want—”

“You do want it, but perhaps you want what waits for you at Redfern more.” He paused. “Shall we barter, Brynn?”

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