A Knight Of Desire (Knights of Passion) (3 page)

“Perhaps we should discuss these matters in private, my lord,” she suggested
, dropping her voice, resting her fingers on his arm.

He sighed.

She looked up at him, suddenly anxious.

“I
am to be betrothed, Annalise.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do
es that matter? I have been so looking forward to . . . that is, I need to speak to you. Urgently.”

“I thought you
would care, a little.”

He looked at her slyly, as if he knew how shocked and upset she would be, and
that alone made her swallow her grief and play at disinterest.

She shrugged a shoulder. “Why should I care? We are enemies, or were. You have your life and I have mine. I wish you well, you and your wife, Fitzallen.”

Her pride would have made her
walk away then, but he went after her and caught her arm, tugging her along until they could slip through a door behind the arras. The alcove was empty.

“I don’t think you wish me well at all,” he said, crowding her into the corner until his body was almost pressing to hers.

Annalise clenched her fists at her sides to stop herself from striking him, or throwing herself into his arms. “Very well then, I don’t wish you well. I hope you both die a dreadful death, preferably on your wedding night.”

He laughed softly, and reached to grasp her waist, pulling her hard against him. She leaned back, pushing her flattened palms against his chest, but it was useless. It was always useless to resist Fitzallen, mainly because she did not want to.

“I have thought of you often,” he admitted, and for once the confidence left him and he seemed almost vulnerable before her. His eyes searched hers. “You are a woman like no other, Annalise.”

“You should have thought of that before you agreed to this betrothal,” she retorted.

“I did think of it.”

He bent his head to kiss her, his mouth warm and almost tender on hers. She promptly bit his lip, making him curse. He kissed her harder, clasping her wrists in one of his big hands and lifting them above her head, pinioning her against the wall. She groaned, writhing against him, wanting him so much.

Loving him so much.

With his other hand he was caressing her breasts through her fine silk gown, while his thigh pressed between hers, opening her legs to him. A moment later he was hitching up her skirts, and his fingers were finding the hot, damp heat of her.

“We cannot. Here.” She gasped, moving against his touch.

“But I can give you the pleasure you want,”
he murmured against her mouth. A moment later he was finding that place inside her, his fingers circling it, making her body jerk with mindless bliss.

When she was l
imp and compliant he swept her into his arms, and sat down upon a stone bench, setting her onto his lap. She rested, her head against his shoulder, content to breathe in his scent and feel his strength about her.

“I could marry you, Annalise,” he said in a cool, emotionless voice.

A tingle went through her.

“We are no longer enemies.
The king would grant my request; he is no monster, and he is fond of me. I thought to become betrothed to his ward to please him, but I find I would much rather please myself.”

Annalise looked up at him through her lashes.

“Do you mean what you say? I will not be tricked or lied to, Fitzallen.”

“And I will not be played false, if your Matilda suddenly decides she needs your services again,” he said, his eyes narrowing in anger.

He was jealous.

She reached to stroke his cheek. “There has been no one since you, my lord. I could not bear the thought of it. And yes,” her mouth curving in a smile, “I will marry you.” 

He was kissing her thoroughly when suddenly the arras was pulled back. Fitzallen jumped up, putting Annalise behind him, but the next moment he was laughing and slapping the backs of several men just as big and powerful as he.

Peeping around his shoulder, Annalise
stared at them. Fitzallen spoke their names to her—there was the one they called Wolf, then Alric, Grendell and Roget.

“What are you doing hiding in here?” Roget asked.
“As if we don’t know. You will be a married man soon enough.”

Fitzallen grimaced. “As to that, I will need to see the king. I have a request of him.”

Taking Annalise’s hand in his, he pulled her through the towering group, out into the noisy crowd. There was a cluster of four women, and the four men who followed claimed one of them each. Annalise could see from their faces that they were all in love, and all happy.

Was this what she could look forward to?
A life forever in Fitzallen’s arms? A life truly loved and loving?

But Annalise knew that wasn’t
entirely possible. There would still be battles needing to be fought, to keep the peace, and there would be long weeks without Fitzallen while he rode to the far corners of the kingdom, but he would come back to her. He would always come back.

“
Hurry up,” he was calling over his shoulder to his friends, “I need your support!”

They strode after him, their wives by their sides, to find King Stephen.

The king looked ill and tired. These years of war had not been kind to him, and seeing the young and fit Henry Plantagenet across the room, Annalise thought it wouldn’t be long until it was he who was ruling the kingdom.

“Fitzallen!” the king smiled warmly. His faded blue eyes slid to the big men standing behind her. “And my boys, how marvellous it is to see you all here together, and taking up
your rightful places
. Grendell has his land back in his hands again as well as the Lady Melina, and Alric has Lady Isabella, his one and only love. Wolf has Kendall Castle from his treacherous uncle, and Juliet to share it with him, and Roget has the love of the Lady Rowena, and the safe care of her lands. I am truly glad for all of you.”

His gaze slid back to Fitzallen. “And you, my friend. Soon you will marry my ward. Will that make you content?”
   

The knowing look in the king’s eyes took Annalise by surprise, and when he smiled at her, she understood he
already knew why they were here before him.

“Lady Annalise is the one I want to marry, Sir,” Fitzallen said. “I cannot marry another. I was a fool to think I could. Please, give us your blessing. As you and your cousin are now united, then let us be the symbol of that unity.”

Stephen searched his face, and then he nodded. “So be it.”

There was more back slapping, and hugs and kisses by the women, and it seemed an eternity before Annalise could escape with her future husband to the privacy of her room. Breathlessly, she went into his arms.

“This seems to have happened very suddenly,” she said, caught in a moment of doubt. Was this what she wanted? What he wanted? “Marriage?” she said aloud. “I have been a widow so long, and you have been a bachelor so long. What if we fight all day long?”

“Then we will make love all night long,” he retorted. “The kingdom is at peace, and so are we, Annalise. We should thank God on our bended knees that we have this chance to be together with everyone’s blessing.”

He was right, of course he was. She took his hand in hers, leading him toward the bed. “We should celebrate,” she said, with a catlike smile.

He wrapped her in his arms. “I have finally found the perfect woman,” he murmured, nuzzling her throat, which she arched back to give him better access.

“And I the perfect man,” she whispered.

He was peeling off her rich court clothing, revealing the woman beneath. His woman. Annalise gasped as he knelt before her, his mouth finding her secret places, his tongue delving deep into her pussy. The heat was building, the passion was rising, and when he pulled away just before she came, she whimpered in dismay.

“Fitzallen, I’ve waited so long . . .”

“I know,” he groaned, “but I want you to come with me inside you. I want to look into your eyes, Annalise.”

And that was exactly what he did.