Siege Of the Heart (30 page)

After the meal, when the men started to pass around a wineskin, Isabel thought it best to retire. Brandishing a small oil lamp, she entered the tent designated for her and Alex. Barely five paces in length, it was still much larger than the others. She ducked to keep her head from brushing the ceiling. Only her saddlebags and a few blankets and furs for bedding adorned the tent. The sparse accommodations would have to serve her for this one night, and in a few days she would be back in Ashdown.

She began to undress but stopped when she heard the whisper of canvas as Alex entered the tent behind her. He stole his arm around her waist and anchored her to his front. His warm breath teased the back of her neck.

Isabel froze. “Alex…” She was dirty and tired, and as much as she had come to enjoy their time together, she was in no mood to encourage his caresses.

He trailed kisses down the side of her neck. She could not deny the shiver his mouth provoked but could not let their passion continue when the men and their tents were within earshot.

Isabel tried to pull away, but he held her tight, his hard length pressed into her buttocks. She cursed her corresponding quickening and found herself leaning into him as he cupped her breast and teased the already alert nipple.

“Tell me you are not enjoying this, my lady,” Alex whispered into her ear.

She ignored him and the way her body clamored for more. “The men are nearby. They will hear.”

He laughed softly. “Worry not. They will drink themselves to sleep.”

“Alex…” The note of warning was buried in her sigh as he sought out her sex, his touch searing her through her clothes.

Once more she tried to shake him away, but he clutched her closely. “Do that again, and I cannot be held responsible for my actions,” he growled as he pressed himself into her and made her aware of his extreme arousal.

“Your actions are reprehensible,” she said, almost breathless, hoping her words would subdue their growing passion.

“Because I cannot keep myself from touching my wife?” He loosened his hold and spun her around to face him. His hands bit into her shoulders.

“Yes.”

His nostrils flared. “You want this too.” He trailed his hands down her arms and brought them to rest on her waist. “We have not had the time to celebrate properly.”

“I… It matters not what I want, only what we should do,” she stammered, even as her body throbbed in anticipation.

“We should enjoy the chance to be alone together.”

“I will not be humiliated in front of your men.”

“Do not trouble yourself over them,” he told her, not unkindly. He moved his leg between hers. She stifled a gasp as she fell against him and gripped the front of his tunic for support as his thigh roughly caressed the entrance to her femininity. “There is only one man you should attend to.”

The hoarseness of his voice thrummed through her body. She arched against him. Her soft moan was her undoing. Alex must have heard it, known she had been momentarily convinced, and pressed his advantage. He latched onto the bodice of her gown and yanked down, ripping the fabric. He gathered her exposed breasts in his mouth, his demanding suckling only a few degrees away from causing pain. Her whimpers of pleasure were strangled by sudden frustration she had given in. She struggled to pry herself out of his arms.

Her foot connected with his shin. In that instant, she successfully extricated herself from his arms and unsheathed her seax from her hip. Her mock resistance swiftly became real, surprising Isabel as much as Alex.

She could only gaze uncomprehendingly at the blade in her hand.

“Always the warrior,” he said between ragged breaths. “You know I would never hurt you.”

She nodded in agreement, but did not change her defensive posture. “I know… I just…” She did not know what to say, even as everything in her cried out for his attention. The desire reflected on his face stole her breath. She was just as excited as he was.

“I did not think you could make me want you more.”

She trembled at his words but forced herself to stay calm. Heedless of her shredded gown, she eyed him, ready for any sudden movements. Out of instinct, she had set events into motion when she had drawn her seax. Alex would not allow her to have the upper hand for long. How could she give in, when it was her actions that had brought them to this point?

When Alex lunged to disarm her, she anticipated his every move. Her body was finely attuned to all things Alex. She managed to slip away but was more aware of the way his tunic skimmed against her or the heat of his body, than the strategy she needed to use to successfully evade him.

Was winning the objective? Alex came at her again. This time he gently ensnared her in his arms before they fell against the edge of the tent. He gripped her knife hand. He did not force her to drop it. Instead he just held her, and they stood only inches away from each other, both out of breath from the exertion. She smarted in unrequited need. As she watched him, her surroundings came into sharp relief. His male scent called to her, and she wanted to answer.

She wanted her husband.

The seax slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. Alex, sensing her surrender, brutally crushed her into his arms. She dug her fingers into his hair and brought his bruising mouth down on hers. Together, they sank to the ground. He held her tightly against him as she straddled his hips. He dragged her skirts up and out of the way, the fabric no match for his insistent hands. As he claimed her breasts again with his mouth, Alex untied his chausses and prepared himself to enter her. It was only once Alex plunged into her that she realized what he had done. She stilled, anchored over him, unsure what to do.

Alex’s face was tight with need as he clamped onto her hips, directing her. She shuddered as the friction of their movements cascaded throughout her. Her hips bucked of their own volition, and he gasped in pleasure.

They came quickly with shattering intensity, the rhythm of their bodies too much to bear. All of Isabel’s strength vanished. She slumped against him as he emptied the last of his seed within her.

He held her possessively as their breathing finally returned to normal. She waited for him to berate her for her behavior, but there was only tenderness. He caught her watching him, and rolled onto his side, taking her with him so they were still face-to-face.

“What changed your mind?”

Isabel grimaced and wiped off her forehead with the back of her hand. “I could not fight you. The wanting was stronger.”

“I am glad for that. Anger, or other strong emotions, often kindles desire.” He played with a lock of her hair in an absent-minded manner. “I have a hard time being patient when it comes to you.”

“Why?” She had meant the question to be light-hearted but it belied the insecurity she felt when it came to their relationship.

“Why? Because you can heat my blood without even trying. One smile from you and I am lost. And you feel it too, despite how you protest.”

“I cannot help it.”

“I know.” He cupped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You are a wild creature, but you are mine. And I will tame you.”

For once, she did not take offense at the words. “I worried you would beat me for disobeying.”

“Isabel, I will never lay a hand on you.” He produced her seax and handed it to her. He watched her slip it back into its sheath. “I have more successful and pleasurable methods for dealing with you,” he said with a smirk.

“I am still learning,” she said softly.

“So am I.” He kissed her, his lips gentle and sure. He finally pulled away with a look of regret. “I shall sit with the men for a little longer. I will join you soon,
chérie
.”

Isabel nodded and barely stirred as Alex stood and covered her with one of the furs. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and was gone.

* * * *

“I thought you already went to sleep,” Hugh greeted Alex as he joined the rest of the men sitting around the fire. “Or did you find the bed too cold for your liking?”

A few of the men sniggered, but Alex ignored them and the insinuation. He took a long swig from the wineskin, which had been passed his way as soon as he had taken a seat. “My bed is very warm. I just thought I would take pity on you poor louts.”

“We are honored by your company, my lord,” Jerome said with a laugh.

“None of that. I am no lord until we reach Ashdown.” He took another sip of wine and passed it along. The wine was of poor quality, but it warmed the body against the night’s chill. Alex looked around. “Whither Captain Thomas?”

“He has already retired.”

Concentrating on the fire’s undulating flames, he nodded then let himself relax. The men’s voices swirled around him, companionable and comforting. His time with Isabel left him unsettled. What began as vigorous seduction had quickly turned into a battle of wills, and Alex was still unsure who won. When she drew her seax out of habit, his need for her had grown tenfold, and he had struggled to control the manly pride demanding he take her right then. Isabel had given in, allowed Alex’s passion to consume her. However, he had been at the mercy of his desire for her from the very beginning. Her defiance, instead of repelling him, only intensified his arousal to the point where he knew of nothing except her.

He had never known such intimacy as when he held her in his arms as they had lain there, spent from their lovemaking. She had consented to marry him, but until he experienced her complete surrender tonight, had not realized she felt the pull between them as acutely as he.

For the past few days, he had wrestled with Isabel’s agreement to marry him. Had she come to care for him—the real Alex—or had she only chosen him because he represented a means to an end, a lesser of two evils, someone who was familiar versus some unknown? Regardless of the reasons for her choice, Alex was certain there was more between them than just mere compatibility.

“Don’t mind him. He’s been impossible since we left London,” Hugh said.

“Now, now, he’s not even been married for a week,” Alex heard Jerome say in return.

Lost in thought, he looked up at his men to find their eyes on him. “What?” Laughter met his ears. Clearly he must have not heard a question directed at him.

With a grin, Jerome pointed at him. “I believe one of the men wanted to know if we would be leaving at first light tomorrow.”

Alex nodded. “Yes, I am eager to return. I know Isabel is concerned for her people. And I would hate to have the Welsh attack again while we are away.”

“Then it is decided,” Hugh said.

Alex looked at men gathered around the fire, at the faces of those who had decided to throw their lot with his. He realized how lucky he was that his men, who had already demonstrated their talent, entrusted their futures to him. It comforted him to know he would not have to completely start anew once he reached Ashdown.

The conversation continued to ebb and flow around him as his men speculated on how things would be once they reached the Dumont castle.

“It will be good to finally have some peace,” Jerome said.

“But the fighting isn’t over. There is too much bad blood between us,” a younger soldier said.

“Bah,” Hugh grunted. “The accursed English don’t know when to leave off.”

“They still haven’t caught the rebels that have caused so much grief,” another man reminded the group.

“I heard from a Breton in London rebels attacked a contingent of men sent to Oxford to keep the locals from uprising. The men were beaten and left for dead. And the villagers aren’t telling who their benefactors were,” Jerome said.

Alex remembered seeing the town on a map somewhere. “How far away is Oxford from here?” he interrupted.

Jerome scratched his head. “About a two-day ride. To the southwest.”

Alex nodded. “We should be cautious.”

“Especially after what Captain Radolf told us in Aylesbury,” Hugh said.

One of the men scoffed. “Those English whelps would be fools to set upon us.”

“Here’s to that,” said another, and the wineskin was passed around once more.

Alex smiled tolerantly at their boasts. It was needed for morale, but he had had enough of their antics and excused himself. He picked his way to the tent he shared with Isabel, eager to lie next to her warm, welcoming body. He thrust aside the canvas, and froze.