Seducing the Knight (4 page)

He glanced away a heartbeat later. What was wrong with him? For a fraction of an instant he had actually felt a thickening in his groin. He, who had never strayed in thought or deed since taking his vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty to the Templar order.

At his silence she added, “I can’t be dissuaded.”

Lord, the lass was stubborn, Alan thought, trying to smother a spark of admiration. He steeled himself. Giving in to her would do no good. “Where I’m going is no place for a woman, especially an unchaperoned one.
It would be best to put an end to this journey before
my
quest becomes too dangerous. Your reputation has already suffered by being here with me in this boat.”

She offered him a slight smile. “Not as badly as you think.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I told everyone we were married.”

“You what?”

She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “My reputation is safe as long as we remain together. Fulfilling the prophecy is my life’s purpose. Perhaps you feel the same about your quest? They are actually the same purpose.” She paused and a momentary doubt flickered in her eyes. “What are we questing for? Why did the prophecy not include such an important detail?”

A jab of exasperation shot through Alan as well as another emotion he refused to examine too closely. “I don’t care what kind of tales you’ve concocted. My answer is still no, for your safety, my sanity, and a million other reasons. No.” He pushed away from the railing and returned to his pallet, feeling suddenly exhausted and weak.

As he went he saw the color ebb from her skin, and her solemn eyes widened. He braced himself against a rush of sympathy. This was for the best. Besides, there was no softness left in him. The kind of life he’d led had allowed him to exercise little compassion, only duty.

As he sat he heard her voice carry on the breeze. “I’ll change your mind.” The words came softly but with a note of confidence. “I’ll find a way to wear you down.”

Jessamine kept her shoulders straight until the moment he lay down. Her bravado vanished the instant he turned his back on her. Her shoulders slumped, and she drew a long, quavering breath. It was just her luck that the
prophecy would lead her to a man who would bluntly refuse her. In fact, the man had been more than eager to rid himself of her unwelcome presence.

She turned away and gazed back out over the Mediterranean Sea. She had two days to convince the knight to give in to her demands. Dear Heaven, how would she do it? How did one persuade a man to do something he didn’t want to do?

Jessamine released a heavy sigh, suddenly weary. She would think of something. She had to. If she didn’t go on this quest with the knight, she might soon find herself a victim of the conde’s lecherous desires.

The setting sun hung low on the horizon when Conde Salazar Mendoza appeared in the inn yard of the town of Mijas. Leaving ten armed men outside with the horses, the conde strode through the small wooden door and into the public room. He searched the hazy darkness of the chamber and the throng of men and women seated at long wooden tables for a familiar head of black hair.

It always annoyed him that Jessamine never wore the traditional Spanish headdress of her mother’s people, preferring her hair loose and uncovered. As he searched the room, rage flared inside him. She wasn’t there. A tall, skinny man skirted him, carrying a tray laden with piping-hot bowls of stew. The conde’s arm snaked out, caught the man’s arm, pulling him to a stop. The tray crashed to the floor.

“God’s teeth.” The man’s angry cry silenced the chamber.

Every eye turned toward the doorway. The conde frowned impatiently at the gawking crowd. “I’m looking for someone.” He reached for his belt and the purse of coins he kept there. With his free hand he removed a silver coin and thrust it at the server as compensation for the meals he’d ruined.

The server seized the coin with his free hand as he tried to shrink out of the conde’s grasp.

The conde held tight. “There’s more if anyone has
information,” he said to the room at large. “The senorita I seek has long dark hair. She may have come into town on horseback with a foreigner, a man dressed in white.” The conde tried to keep the venom from his voice as he continued to scan the room, searching for signs of recognition.

“Someone must know something?” The conde’s fingers tightened on the server’s arm.

“Let me go,” the server whined as he tried once again to twist free of the conde’s iron grasp.

Instead of releasing the server, the conde clenched the man’s skin so hard he drew a sharp cry of pain.

The conde smiled. When he got his hands on Jessamine, he would take great pleasure in reprimanding her in a similar way. She would writhe in pain when he was through with her. A surge of satisfaction tightened his groin. He’d give her a good lesson on how to treat her husband.

“I might know something.” A voice interrupted the conde’s pleasant thoughts.

He scowled as a squat little man pushed back his chair and strode forward. “There was a girl who came into town today. She bartered with some fishermen to take her and the man you described on their boat.”

“Who were these fishermen?” The conde thrust his fingers into his purse and withdrew three more silver coins. Two he tossed to the man. One he held up for all the room to see. “Who were they?”

A gray-haired old woman shuffled away from the crowd. “They spoke Hebrew.”

They were headed for the Holy Land. “You’re certain?” the conde demanded.

She nodded. “And one thing more.” The old woman shuffled closer. “The girl addressed the man in white as her—”

“As her what?” His voice was tight.

“Husband.”

For a moment, the conde’s heart stopped. The word sank in. Jessamine had refused to marry him, then flung herself at a total stranger? Rage pulsed through his veins. He thrust the server at the old woman, knocking them both to the floor. Further venting his rage, he launched the silver coin at the woman. She yelped as the coin hit her cheek, but scrambled after it a heartbeat later. If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have been amused by her desperation to keep what she felt she’d earned.

His anger so hot it was close to pain, the conde left the inn. “To the wharf,” he directed his men. He would have to commandeer a ship that could overtake the fishing vessel Jessamine had hired. He had to find her and take back what was rightfully his.

The conde mounted, then led his men toward the smattering of boats just beyond the whitewashed inn. He curled his hand into a fist. When he found the bastard who was posing as Jessamine’s husband…The man would be no good even for fish food, when the conde was done with him.

The next morning, after waking from an exhausted sleep, Jessamine stretched her neck, trying to ease the kinks left by a long, cold night. Mediterranean nights were cool and clear, and Jessamine had spent half of the last one staring up at the stars, wondering what she could do to sway the knight’s opinion.

The ship was silent except for the gentle slap of the waves against the hull. By the first light of dawn, nothing had come to her. So she’d decided to simply be near him. Her presence seemed to irritate him. And she much preferred to irritate and annoy than to be dismissed.

She sat at the edge of his pallet and waited. A whistle
sounded, signaling the change of watch. The silent seamen who had seen the ship through the night moved belowdecks as others, fresh from sleep, emerged.

As each man stepped on deck, his gaze turned to her. Interest flared in their eyes. And lust. Her heart leaped. She glanced down at the knight. He was still lost in sleep, and her heart pounded jerkily with a queer sort of panic. No one had ever looked at her in such a way before. Not even the conde.

The men didn’t take their posts, but stepped closer to her and Alan. Jessamine shivered with uneasiness as her hand slowly moved toward the knight’s sword, which lay near her knees. Nervously, she counted them. Eight bearded men looked at her with lust, insolence, and anticipation.

Her gaze flew to the water. She could see the faint outline of land in the distance, but the ship was still too far away to hope for help from that quarter. Her fingers touched the sword’s hilt, and she grasped the weapon. “Don’t come any closer,” Jessamine warned. When two of the sailors did, she leaped to her feet and held the lethal sword before her, hoping they didn’t see how her fingers trembled.

The two men laughed. “We’ve decided your jewels weren’t payment enough for this voyage.” A young sailor with pale, beady eyes edged closer.

An older man with a hard, square jaw leered at her. “You’ve got other treasures we plan to enjoy.”

Jessamine’s stomach lurched. How could she have been so foolish to believe she’d be safe with a partially unconscious, injured man?

The shortest man in the group stepped closer. “This will be the easiest spoils we’ve ever earned.”

Jessamine clutched the hilt, aiming the sword first at
one man, then another. She couldn’t fight them all. She could hardly keep the heavy sword upright.

In a heartbeat, the knight surged upward from right beside her. He drew a dagger from his boot and jabbed one man in the shoulder while he kicked the second in the kneecap. Both men groaned from their pain and staggered backward, collapsing on the deck.

He turned back to her, extending his hand. “My sword?” he asked politely as he placed himself between her and their attackers.

Her heart hammering, she handed him the weapon, then watched him engage the men who’d rushed forward with deadly intent. The sound of steel echoed loudly in the silence of the morning. Alan caught one man with a blow to the back, another with a blow to the head. He didn’t kill them, merely took them down, leaving no doubt that he could do more if the fighting continued.

The eyes of the men farthest away widened as Alan kicked one sailor in the gut, sending him crashing back into two more. He held another sailor at sword point. “Enough of this insanity. Four men are injured. How many more must follow?”

The men ceased their movements.

“The woman paid you for the voyage. Let that payment serve.” His hard gaze passed over each man. “Get back to your posts.”

With sullen faces, several of the men turned away as ordered. Four other sailors came forward and grasped the arms of the injured men, dragging them to the opposite end of the boat.

Alan sheathed his weapon. His hands shook and his face was decidedly pale as he turned to her. “Are you unharmed?”

Jessamine reached for his arm to steady him, but he
straightened, pushing her hand from his arm. “They must believe I’m capable of fighting them.”

She nodded her understanding.

He moved to the stairs of the forecastle. He gripped the railing with a force that turned his knuckles white. “Are you unharmed?” he repeated as she followed him up.

“Yes, but I can’t believe I was so foolish as to trust them.”

“You did what you thought was best.” Alan’s response surprised her.

“What are we to do now?” she asked, looking nervously at the sailors gathered at the opposite end of the ship.

He offered her a tight smile as he took the wheel in his hands and turned the boat slightly to the north. “They won’t dare bother us again until we make port. They’re outmatched, and they know it.”

“You know how to sail?”

He nodded. “I love the sea. I always have.”

Jessamine gazed at the knight who’d taken control of the ship. “You seem remarkably well today despite your injuries.”

This time his smile was genuine, and its impact left her a little breathless. “I told you. I heal quickly.”

Jessamine fell silent. After a time she brought her gaze back to his. “Has the night also helped to change your mind about my coming with you?”

Any humor in his face vanished. “These men have proven that you’ll be safer with me than by yourself.” Alan focused his attention on the horizon before them. “You wanted a quest. Looks as though you are part of one now.”

“Truly?”

He nodded.

“Thank you,” she said, filled with relief and gratitude. He would not send her back to Spain…or to the conde.

His gaze moved to hers, his features rigid and unyielding. “Your coming along doesn’t mean I believe your prophecy. It simply means I wish to protect you.”

She nodded. She would convince him otherwise in time.

“I won’t lie to you,” he continued. “The quest before me is not an easy one, but I do promise that while you are with me you’ll be safe.”

She would finally have a chance to fulfill the purpose of her life. A million questions flooded her thoughts. “Where are we going?”

“We cannot discuss that now.” This time his gaze moved to the sailors. “Discretion is essential.”

Jessamine turned toward the land she could now see clearly in the distance. Sparkling waters of the deepest blue led to shimmering silver sand. Beyond, the golden stones of a seaside fort glinted beneath the rays of the morning sun. A bubble of happiness that she had not experienced for a very long time rose inside her. Suddenly she felt entirely at ease. Unafraid. Empowered by her destiny.

Their quest was about to begin.

The girl wasn’t a fool. He was, for bringing her with him. Alan frowned at the teeming throng of people who surged across the pier where he’d tied the rowboat that had brought him and Jessamine ashore. People drifted through the marketplace. Some were buying merchandise. Others sold their wares. A din of voices mixed with odd religious wails swirled around them. The sounds were nearly as oppressive as the hot desert air. Alan drew a labored breath beneath the heavy weight of his chain mail, feeling as though the heat seared his lungs. The water and wind at sea had masked the heat until now. He drew another breath, then another, until his breathing came easier.

Jessamine appeared not to be as affected as he was by the heat. She matched his steps as they moved through the crowd.

Odd scents assailed him as he wended his way through the market toward a young boy in the distance who might be able to help them. The sharp tang of unclean bodies mixed with the pungent scent of salt. The odors of dust, smoke, ripening fruit, and dung closed in around him. Alan forced himself to breathe normally as he approached the boy. “Are you for hire?” he asked.

When the boy gave him a puzzled look, Jessamine
asked the same question in what Alan could only assume was Hebrew. The boy nodded with an eager smile.

“What would you like to ask him?” Jessamine prompted Alan.

He held out a copper coin. “Ask him to take the boat back out to the ship for the others.” She efficiently took care of the transaction and sent the boy on his way. All the while, Alan couldn’t help frowning. Jessamine had been helpful. He had no doubt she would continue to be so.

But could he put her in the kind of danger she would experience on this quest? He couldn’t abandon her in a city filled with strangers who would try to abuse her as the sailors had tried to do on the ship. It would be unChristian of him to abandon her now, despite the fact she would slow him down.

His reasoning seemed logical if he didn’t think too hard—about the way her scent made his heart race, or why the idea of other men looking at her the way the sailors had twisted his gut. He shook off his thoughts as he took her arm and led her deeper into the city of Jaffa. They needed to be away from the docks as quickly as possible, before the sailors aboard the ship could rally others and cause trouble.

Jessamine remained at his side as they walked through the streets of the fortified city. Jaffa had been at one time a glorious fortress held by the Templars. A momentary pang of regret stalled Alan’s movements. His brothers had walked these same streets. He drew a sharp breath. He was here now to continue what the Templars had been unable to accomplish during their occupation. He would find where they’d hidden the Ark of the Covenant and bring it home.

Jessamine stopped beside him. An odd eagerness
warmed her features. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. Her gaze traveled from the golden bricks of the city to the copper hills of the desert beyond. “Is that where we are going?”

Alan nodded. Jaffa was beautiful. He’d never been here before—he’d only heard stories from the other men. “Aye,” he replied. “We’ll hire a horse to take us to Jerusalem. That’s where our quest begins.

“I’ll not lie to you, Jessamine.” Alan turned to her. “I do you no favor by allowing you to come with me. As I said before, it will be dangerous.”

“I’m prepared.” Determination lit her dark eyes.

“Then come,” Alan said, continuing toward a stable yard. There he purchased a horse and helped Jessamine onto the animal’s back before he mounted behind her. The cloth saddle was different from what he was used to, but he had to admit the design made it more comfortable to ride two astride, with only a small saddle horn between them.

Harsh, bright sunlight streamed down on them as they made their way through the streets of loose sand. The horse’s plodding progress sent up a plume of reddish dust into the air. A thin layer of grit settled on their skin, and Alan knew they would have to make one more stop before leaving town.

When they came to a small wooden building with the symbol of a loom hanging from a hook near the door, Alan reined in his horse. “Stay here,” he said as he dismounted. “I’ll be right back.” It didn’t take long to buy what they needed. Even without the proper language skills, he was able to communicate what he wanted. He returned to the horse and tied the package to the back of the saddle before mounting once more.

Eager to put some distance between themselves and the town, Alan pushed the horse into a slow run. Once
they’d cleared Jaffa, he let the horse fall back into a walk. In the distance he could see nothing but desert, but he knew the ancient city was out there. They headed east.

The air became still and silent. There were no more voices or soft wailing sounds. No slap of the waves against the shore or vendors hawking their wares. There was only the occasional spiraling of a bird through the open blue sky, the slithering of a snake across the cool morning ground.

The sun continued its slow, inexorable trek across the sky. Spiky and thorny scrub brush dotted the ground, with an occasional acacia tree breaking the monotony. The landscape should have been dreary when compared to the lush greenery of Scotland. But it wasn’t.

Against the golden sand beneath their horse’s feet, the bluish green of the scrub brush sparkled like gems set into a rich setting of gold.

“We’ll be stopping here for a moment.” Alan reined the horse to a stop near an acacia tree. He dismounted first, then helped Jessamine down.

She didn’t step away. She stayed there in the circle of his arms and reached up. With a silken palm, she cupped his cheek. “You have risked so much for me in the last few days.”

As she spoke, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her full, tempting mouth. Her lips were red and inviting. No doubt they would be even softer than her hand…

The screech of a bird broke into Alan’s wayward thoughts, and he pulled away. He went to the saddle and untied the package he’d purchased from the weaver. Unrolling the fabric, he handed Jessamine a lightweight butter yellow gown of the softest wool, a chemise, and a cream-colored veil. “To replace your torn and soiled
garments,” he said. “This garb will be cooler out here in the desert and help us to look like the locals.”

She nodded before she withdrew from him, heading behind the acacia tree.

The sweet scent of jasmine still clung to his body where she’d pressed up against him. His gaze followed her to the tree. She struggled to unlace her gown. With a groan, he turned his back on the sight and pulled his mail hauberk over his head, followed by his quilted aketon. Once he was free of the heavy armor, his breath came easier. He would have less protection without the mail, but at least he’d be able to breathe. A soft breeze seemed to caress his flesh.

He turned slightly, his gaze once again moving to the base of the tree, where a splash of peach-colored silk lay. His gaze moved up. She stood with her back to him, but that didn’t hide her long legs or the rounded buttocks that danced in and out of sight beneath her long black hair as she struggled to pull the new chemise over her head.

Alan’s body hardened as he took in Jessamine’s dark beauty—her honeyed skin and lean body. Something about her compelled him like no other woman he’d met before. He watched her slip the chemise over her head, watched it slide down her naked flesh. She followed the same movements with her gown. He fisted his hands as her fingers smoothed the fabric in place.

He wrenched his gaze away from Jessamine and back to the black beast that would be their transportation. The animal nuzzled the ground in an attempt to find food. Alan drew comfort from the familiar sight. Horses he was used to. Women…

He grabbed the long muslin shirt and long brown robe he had purchased for himself and fastened the robe around his body as he’d seen the other men in the
marketplace do. When Jessamine reappeared, he was mounted and waiting. He offered her his hand and drew her up onto the horse, settling her before him once more. The now familiar scent of jasmine caught him in its grasp again. His body instantly tightened and his mind flashed back to the sight of her naked backside. With a silent groan, he set the horse in motion. This would be a long, frustrating quest if he didn’t shift his mind to other things.

A black buzzard glided effortlessly in a giant, spiraling arc through the cloudless sky overhead, reminding Alan that along with beauty, there was also death in the desert. He had to stay sharp, anticipate danger before it arrived.

“Now that we’re alone, may I ask what it is we are searching for?” Jessamine’s delicate voice broke into his thoughts. “You said we are heading toward Jerusalem. Why there?”

“Because that is the first place I must search for the Ark of the Covenant.”

She faced him, her eyes wide. “The Ark of the Covenant?”

Alan nodded. “I have two letters from a Templar knight who came here during the Templar’s occupation of the Holy Land in 1291. He and his men claim they found the ark. But all communication with the knights ended abruptly before they could reveal the hiding place.”

If it were possible, Jessamine’s eyes grew wider. “You know the location of the ark?”

“I know its probable location.”

She frowned. “Then you don’t know.”

“I’ve spent the last two years studying the legends and stories. I’ve read the letters and memorized the clues left for us in the text of the Bible itself.” He caught her gaze and held it. “It’s in one of four places.”

She nodded, knowing where he was headed. “Jerusalem and the Temple Mount are where we begin this search?”

“Aye. The Temple of Jerusalem is the most fought-over patch of land in the world. In ancient times the Egyptians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews all fought and died for control of it.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “More recently, the Arabs and the crusaders shed their blood to take, hold, lose, and retake the sacred mount.”

“My people and yours,” she said softly.

“Exactly.”

“Maybe that’s why you and I are here together. To unite our purposes for the common good.”

He shrugged. A part of him still wondered if Jessamine had some hidden reason for being here with him. Time would reveal the truth. In the meanwhile, he would be careful.

The remainder of the journey passed in silence. The sun started its descent as they entered the outskirts of Jerusalem and headed for the Dome of the Rock. A call to prayer hung in the air as they reached the interior of the city. Cobbled streets led through the Jewish Quarter and the Jaffa Gate. Once inside the city it was hard to look anywhere but at the dome of copper that glinted in the sun like a divine beacon.

Alan brought their horse to a stop. “We need to leave the animal here.” He dismounted, then offered Jessamine a hand down. She slid from the horse into his arms. A wave of heat suffused Alan that had nothing to do with the sun beating down over them. Jessamine must have felt it too, because her cheeks flushed and she stepped back. “Is that the Dome of the Rock?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

“Aye. Cover your head and face before we approach
the Western Wall,” Alan said, pulling his own headdress over his hair. “No one can stand in sight of the Western Wall without a head covering.”

He led Jessamine through the crowd to the plaza at the foot of the Western Wall. Men stood on the left side of the wall, women on the right, rocking rhythmically and reverently before the ancient, weathered stones. Bowing repeatedly, they dutifully recited their prayers.

“Come,” Alan said, leading Jessamine away from the holy sight. “We need to walk through what used to be the Royal Portico of Solomon’s Temple to reach the underground tunnels.”

“Is that where you think the ark can be found?” Jessamine whispered, close to his side.

He didn’t answer as they approached the south side of the plaza. Two guards flanked the tunnel entrance.

“How will we get past them?” she asked.

He turned back to the Western Wall as though searching for something. “Trust me.” With a hand on the small of her back, Alan guided Jessamine slightly past the tunnel entrance. Quite suddenly a warbling cry rent the air, and the two guards moved away from the passage to face the worshippers at the wall. They dropped to their knees in response to the call to prayer.

“Now.” Alan turned back to the tunnels and they stepped inside unchallenged.

A series of openings lay before them, what remained of ancient rooms and passageways that would have been at street level at one time. Alan’s thoughts drifted back to the research he’d done. He knew the way to go even though he’d never been here before. The route was clear in his mind.

He guided Jessamine to the tunnel on the left. Torches lit the passageway through a series of vaulted
chambers and into another tunnel. The temperature dropped sharply and the musty smell of mold and ancient, crumbling brickwork hung in the air.

They hurried through one vaulted chamber after another until finally they entered a much larger and differently designed chamber. The other spaces they’d passed through were plain and clearly functional, whereas the roof of this one was supported by ornamental columns and the walls were adorned with stonework. “This chamber is known as the Hall of the Hasmoneans. It dates back to the time of Herod the Great.”

Jessamine moved about the chamber, careful to avoid the large, round rocks stacked in the corners. “What are these?” she asked.

“They are what remain of the missiles that were flung from catapults by the Romans when they stormed Jerusalem after the Jewish Revolt. It was during that time that the Romans looted the temple as they pillaged and sacked the city. Some scholars believe that the Ark of the Covenant was among the spoils taken.”

Jessamine stopped her exploration and turned to him. “You don’t think the ark was taken then?”

He shook his head. “I believe that the ark was removed by the priesthood shortly before the Romans descended on the city.”

She turned startled eyes to him. “Then why are we here?”

“To make certain my suspicions are correct. Shall we find out?”