need to flee his machinations had brought her to this.
She dared not seek Oremund’s help now. She could not make it to the convent. She had not. Sighing, Gillian knew she was out of choices.
‘Lady?’ His deep voice broke into her reverie and forced her gaze up to his.
How had she ever mistaken him for anything other than the leader he was? Even if she discounted his lack of a banner proclaiming his insignia, even if she ignored the uncouth and foul language she’d heard him use, even believing Oremund’s stories about the Norman—nay, Breton—and his plans, there was no way to ignore the inherent nobility of the man standing before her now.
He’d removed his chainmail and other accoutrements of fighting and war and stood there as just a man. Yet now he seemed even more dangerous than before.
He was tall, tall enough that he had to crouch down to walk farther into the tent and not hit the top of it with his head. He was large, with broad shoulders that bespoke years of training in his craft. He was. waiting. She swallowed deeply then as she realised he watched her perusal of him and allowed it. Gillian lowered her gaze to her clasped hands and waited quietly.
‘Did they bring you fresh water and see to your comforts?’ he asked softly. Without even lifting her head, she could see him moving closer to her. ‘Do you need something to drink or eat?’
With the time before he consummated their marriage running out, she decided to try one last time to dissuade him from his purpose.
‘My lord,’ she said quietly as she rose to her feet and stood before him, ‘I need nothing from you save your grant of safe passage to the convent.’
The tension between and around them grew as she waited on his word. When silence was her only answer, she lifted her head and looked at him. His brown eyes darkened even more as the intensity and heat of his gaze moved over her.
‘You have asked for one of the two things I could not grant you, lady, even if I wished it to be so.’
Had he done it a-purpose? He’d phrased his words so that she had to ask about the other. Did he know of her unseemly curiosity, something her brother and their father had decried as a flaw in her character? Her heart began to pound in her chest as he reached out and took her hand in his, tugging her even closer. Try as she might, Gillian could not stop the words from spilling out.
‘What is the other?’ She held her breath as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. He allowed his lips to rest there for a moment longer than necessary before looking back at her.
‘I could not let you greet the morning as a maiden still,’ he said.
Shaking her head, she pulled her hand from his grasp. Or tried to, for his fingers held tight and did not allow her to free herself. ‘My lord …’
‘My lady,’ he replied.
‘I beg you …’ Her voice caught as he slid the sleeve of her gown down her arm and followed it with his mouth, placing heated kiss after heated kiss along the exposed skin there. Flames seemed to grow within her and she could not find the thoughts and arguments that seemed so coherent just moments before. Her body trembled at his intimate touch and she reached her free hand up to pry loose his hold.
‘Nay, my lady,’ he whispered against her skin, not even pausing in his attentions as he caught her hand and placed it on his chest. ‘I could not allow it.’
With her hands held so, she was forced to lean closer to him. She searched his face for any sign that he would relent, but there was none. And when he turned to look at her and she recognised the glint of desire in his eyes, she knew she had no chance of escaping his intentions. Even when he released her hands, it was only for a moment and only to untie her veil and remove it. He tossed the linen aside and took her into his embrace, drawing her even nearer. When his mouth descended and touched hers, she lost her wits completely and every attempt to focus on her plan, a plan, any plan, failed as her body fell under his spell.
This kiss began much as his first had, but then it changed quickly into something seeking, something demanding, something seducing. She lost her breath as he turned his face and took control of her mouth and her body. Gillian felt his hands slide up onto her shoulders and then into her hair as she gave herself over to the kiss. Opening to him as his tongue touched her lips, she allowed him his way and felt the shivers pulse through her body. The thought that she’d never been kissed in such a bold and possessive manner flitted through her mind for a moment.
When he relinquished his hold of her hair and slid one hand slowly down her body, touching and caressing her neck and then her breasts and stopping to rest splayed over her belly, she pulled away from his kiss and tried to breathe. A kiss was one thing, but to touch her in such an intimate way was.
Decadent.
Forbidden.
Scandalous.
He did not force her to accept his touch, but he did not remove his hand from its place too close to the junction of her thighs. A place she’d not truly thought much about before, but that now ached for something unknown. And that ache spread as she saw the desire burning in his gaze as he waited on her.
‘This is ill advised, my lord,’ she forced out. ‘We know nothing of each other and yet you would bed me here, now?’
His hand remained in place, making it impossible to cool the heat that poured through her. But she must, if she was to avoid this next step.
‘The king has granted me these lands, this title and you, lady. In spite of your efforts and those of your brother—’ he began quietly.
‘Half,’ she interrupted. His brows gathered in a frown. ‘My half-brother,’ she explained.
‘Half or full matters not to me or the king,’ he said and then he shook his head. ‘In spite of the efforts to keep me from said lands and wife, I have found you and I will not risk any more delays or disappearances. I need to know nothing more than that you are my legally wedded …’ before she could think of another tack to take, he leaned down and kissed her again and continued ‘.and soon-to-be-bedded wife.’
Something finally sparked inside her, whether foolishness or bravery she knew not, and she pulled away once more.
‘And if you lay dead after the coming battle, I will know nothing of you save your name. Does that not worry you?’ From the entirely confident look on his face, she knew what his answer would be.
‘I will not lose the coming battle, lady. If anyone is dead after it, it will be your brother.’
His words startled her, for she’d not truly thought about the whole process enough. Oh, aye, she knew there would be a fight to gain control of Thaxted and she knew some would be injured or perish. God forgive her, she even knew of several names she hoped would be on one or the other of those lists, but so would others—others innocent of this game played between kings and nobles. Always the innocents paid the price.
‘Forgive me for those words, Gillian,’ he said, taking her by her shoulders. ‘War is not easy for any of those who fight and I ask your pardon for taunting you with words of your brother’s death.’
He’d shocked her again, he knew, for her turquoise eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. He was not a fool when it came to seducing
