The Angel's Assassin (14 page)

He didn’t respond -
his throat was too clogged with emotion to even try. Instead he answered her
with a searing kiss as he clasped his hand around her breast, his fingers
scraping over her hardened nipple. Annabel met his kiss eagerly but he pulled
back before she could draw him in too deeply. His control - the control that he
so prided himself on - was being sorely tested by this angel and he had no wish
to ravish her, as much as his body said otherwise.

Ignoring her sounds
of protest, he forced himself back and she soon quietened when he laid kisses
upon her sheening skin. She writhed underneath him, gasping at each touch of
his lips upon her flesh. Nicholas kissed down her collar bone, lavishing
attention on her breasts before moving down, brushing over her quivering belly.
His fingers finally tracked a path to the juncture of her thighs and he admired
her before stroking across the sweet damp heat that awaited him.

Annabel jolted at the touch, but
he placed a large, reassuring hand on her stomach, holding her down before
tentatively touching his tongue to her folds.

She jerked as bolt
of sensation rumbled through her, setting her skin alight. “Nicholas!”

Quickly overcoming
her shock, she marvelled at the teasingly blissful feeling of his mouth upon
her sex and she answered his every move with a thrust of her hips as her hands
coiled, unknowingly, around his head. A rumble of pleasure at her response
erupted from Nicholas, causing her enjoyment to increase until she was thrashing,
grabbing wildly at the straw around her. When she felt she could take no more,
Nicholas slid a finger into her slick heat and she exploded, crying out in
surprise and wonder.

A luxurious
lethargy cascaded over her and she looked at Nicholas with heavy lidded
satisfaction, not realising what a seductive image she made with a lust swollen
mouth and a flush upon her cheeks. He slowly crawled his way back up to her,
his large muscular body covering hers. He was careful not to place his weight
upon her, as if afraid he would break her, but she enjoyed the feel of his hard
thigh settling between her legs and his solid chest pressed against her
sensitive skin. Annabel brushed her hands over his rolling muscles, using her
fingers to sketch a path over each individual muscle, as he framed her head
with his hands

They both watched
her hand, as if unable to believe what was about to happen, and then locked
eyes. His dark eyes were filled with an indefinable intensity but Annabel knew
without question that it was the same love and desire that was likely written
in her own expression. His mouth stayed in a grim line in spite of the obvious
pleasure he took from having her beneath him.

Her forefinger
tracked the line of his mouth and she smiled. “Why so serious, Sir Knight?”

Nicholas’ throat
worked. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

Annabel knew she
should be nervous – she had heard enough servants’ gossip to understand that
the first time could be painful - but the knowledge that Nicholas was her fate somehow
dissipated any unease and as he looked at her with such love she could do
little else other than coax him forwards with her hands on his buttocks.

In response he
settled between her legs, burrowing his head into her hair and kissing at her
neck. Cautiously he edged towards her as he nipped and sucked at her ear,
mayhap in a bid to distract her. Little could distract her from the hard heat
of him as he brushed against her and finally found entrance. With a hurried
thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She cried out at the sudden
pain, tears forming as she clenched her eyes shut to block out the discomfort.

He waited then,
apologising again and again in whispers, brushing the tears from her cheeks. As
the sting dissolved, she became aware of a budding heat, deep in the pit of her
stomach, and the awareness spread as she finally registered the joy of their
union. Nicholas must have been aware of the change as he pulled his head from
the crook of her neck to meet her gaze. Tears glittered in his eyes and he
pressed a fierce kiss to her lips.

Cautiously, he
pushed forwards and Annabel intuitively responded to the slight movement with
the raising of her hips. He inhaled sharply as the movement brought him in
deeper than Annabel thought possible. She mourned the loss of the pressure in
her when he pulled back but was immediately gratified once more when he lunged
again, causing a delightful friction.

Her hands traced
over his face, meshing into his short hair and pulling him down to kiss her as
he surged forwards again and again, each push more powerful than the last. Her
breath came in gasps as his tongue delved into her mouth, meeting hers with the
same urgency as his hips.

“No-one else but
you,” he murmured breathlessly against her lips. “There will never be anyone
else.”

Annabel could only
whimper as the onslaught of passion took hold of her, her thoughts no different
from his. Clutching at him as if her life depended on it, the pressure built
and built as he drove himself into her, until finally he pushed his hands under
her buttocks, lifting her so that the depth of his next thrust completely
unravelled her, shattering her in every way.

She watched the
face of the man she loved crumple as he unleashed his own passion, hoarsely
calling her name as he did so.

Panting, he rested
his damp forehead on hers, closing his eyes as they lay joined.

Holding his rough
jaw in her hands, she smiled contentedly. “I love you, Nicholas.”

His eyes flew open
and he shot away from her, unceremoniously detangling himself from her limbs,
leaving her sprawled in bewilderment. Snatching his shirt, he yanked it over
his head and fell to his knees, closing his eyes and bringing his hands
together in prayer.

Annabel watched
with concern as his lips moved silently, seemingly repeating the same words
over and over. Slipping her bliaut on, she ignored the laces as she knelt in
front of him, drawing his clasped hands away from his face. He opened his eyes,
the troubled look behind them stabbing at her heart.

“What is it, Nicholas?
Why do you pray?”

He licked at his
dry lips. “I am praying for forgiveness. You are an angel and I have taken your
innocence. ‘Twas an act of sin.”

Hiding the stab of
hurt that his words caused, she gripped at his clenched hands. “I am no angel; I
am a woman, as you are a man. This was no sin.”

“Annabel, I have
sinned you in so many ways. If you knew…”

“Hush now, ‘twas my
choice to offer myself to you. I know what is in your heart and ‘tis not sin.”

Nicholas shook his head but
allowed her to settle a tender kiss on his lips as they knelt in front of each
other. Unable to stop himself, he returned the kiss, cradling her face in his
hands, in spite of the harrowing guilt that settled in his gut. He would have
to tell her, he realised. Somehow.

The wet sound of
feet crushing straw penetrated his guilt riddled mind and he turned to the
source of the sound. A tall, slender figure was outlined in the doorway and,
recognising it immediately, Nicholas jumped to his feet, hauling Annabel with
him and forcing her behind the protection of his body. His eyes searched wildly
for his sword but he realised that it was still discarded in the middle of the
room. Hell fire, he’d failed. He had let his desire get the better of him and
now Annabel would pay for his weakness.

As Lord Benedict
strode into the room, his large henchman followed, holding out a flickering
torch that caused them both to squint. Annabel gasped as she recognised her
uncle’s face and Nicholas felt her tremble as she gripped at his shirt.

The lord looked
over them both with an amused grin, taking note of Nicholas’ bare legs and his
niece’s unbound bliaut. “Well, how charming. It appears I have interrupted your
little tryst. And rather too late it seems…”

“What do you want?”
Nicholas hissed.

The older man
smiled, pulling off a glove and drawing it through his other hand as he
contemplated them. “I want my niece back.”

Nicholas frowned;
fear and confusion surging through him. He already struggled to understand why
the man would hire an assassin only to attempt to kill her himself but now he
wanted her returned to him? Whatever Lord Benedict’s plan was, he had no
intention of letting Annabel loose into his scheming hands.

“You shall have to
kill me first.”

Lord Benedict
chuckled, motioning to Godfrey to step forwards. The torchlight caught on the
steel of his sword that was angled menacingly at them.

“I should kill you
for despoiling and kidnapping my niece.”

Annabel stepped
forwards, even as Nicholas tried to force her back. “Uncle, he did not kidnap
me! He rescued me. At your bidding!”

“Nay, he is a
wicked man. Indeed, I was misled about his character and for that I am gravely
sorry, dear Niece.

She shook her head
in confusion. “Nay, he is my protector.”

Nicholas could feel
the world crumbling away beneath his feet. The lord looked at him smugly and
Nicholas knew that he had lost already. He had failed his angel.

“What say you,
Nicholas? Is your soul not damned to hell for all your wicked deeds?” Lord
Benedict questioned tauntingly.

Annabel looked
between the two men, her beautiful grey eyes begging for him to say otherwise.

Ignoring her uncle
and the threat of the sword pointed at him, he gripped Annabel’s arms. He
couldn’t lie but he would not lose her trust, not now. “I am your protector,
Annabel, pray believe that.”

She nodded
resolutely. “I do.”

Her uncle’s man
used the opportunity to grab Nicholas and Annabel cried out as Godfrey’s sword
came across his neck, pinning him back.

Lord Benedict came
up beside him, snarling quietly into his ear. “You will tell her to go with me
or you shall die.”

“Never,” he
growled.

“Very well.
Annabel?”

Lord Benedict held
out his hand to Annabel who cautiously moved forwards. Nicholas struggled
against Godfrey and was rewarded with the sting of the blade slicing ever so
lightly into his skin.

Annabel saw the
trickle of blood and froze. “Uncle, pray do not kill him. I beg of you.”

He tilted his head,
considering her down his long nose. “Will you return home with me then, Niece?
Alderweald Castle is no longer under the control of the rebels and you have no
need to fear.”

She darted a glance
to Nicholas, who shook his head as vigorously as he could with a blade to his
throat.

“Do I have aught to
fear from you, Uncle?”

“Of course not, my
child. Was I not your mother’s favourite brother? Was I not devoted to her
every need and therefore her daughter’s too?”

Annabel stared at
his proffered hand with hesitation before reaching out to take it, glancing
with fear at the steel set against Nicholas’ throat. The lord pulled her
roughly beside him and as Nicholas was about to shout out, he flicked the blade
of a dagger in front of her. Her eyes widened in fear and she tried to wrench
her hand free.

“Annabel, I suggest
you behave yourself unless you want to be responsible for the death of your
brave knight here?”

Ceasing her
struggles, she turned to Benedict. “So ‘twas true, you were trying to kill me!”

Benedict flicked a
secretive grin to Nicholas and he waited apprehensively for the truth to be
revealed.

“Oh, there’s a
little more to it than that, but all shall be revealed in good time. Now, will
you come quietly or shall we see blood spilled here this day?”

Nicholas couldn’t
allow her to go with him. Whatever the lord’s plan was, he doubted Annabel would
be left alive for long. With all his might, he pushed on Godfrey’s arm, forcing
the sword away long enough for him to slip out of his grip. Thundering towards
Benedict, he slammed into him, knocking him to the floor with a thud. The older
man struggled under his weight but was no match for him.

“Flee, Annabel.
Now!” he shouted when he realised Annabel remained in the hut. She hesitated,
apparently unwilling to leave him. Her indecision gave Godfrey enough time to
rush forwards with his sword, pricking the tip into Nicholas’ side.

Nicholas kept his
weight pressed upon Benedict. There was still time for her to run, if she would
only go! “Annabel, run!”

The sword tip
pressed into his side, imbedding itself carefully into the top layer of his
skin, not intended to kill but just enough to hurt. He let out an involuntary
cry and Annabel rushed forwards, putting her hand on Godfrey’s sword arm.

“Nay! I will do
whatever you ask, just do not kill him.”

Benedict gave a
strangled laugh. “Release him, Godfrey. Take my niece to her mount and tie her
securely to it. Nicholas will not harm me now.”

Nicholas cursed as
he felt the pressure of the blade ease and he watched Godfrey escort Annabel
out of the hut. Why had she not just run? He had been more than willing to die in
order for her to make an escape. Instead she had offered herself to her uncle
to save his life.