A Knight to Desire (12 page)

"I attacked your thumb. It is weaker than any other finger. Putting the right amount of pressure on it will easily break a stronger hold, allowing me to escape."

He rose to his elbows and glared at her. "Why did you attack me?"

"I did not want you to kiss me."

He sat up. "You could have just said no."

"You didn't give me a chance."

She put her hand out to help him up. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He brushed her hand away and stood. "I'm unharmed," he said and winced as though in pain.

She knew he probably did hurt. She'd taken such falls herself while training with the Templars. Had he damaged his head in the fall? She reached up and ran her fingers along the side of his face and along the back of his skull.

He grasped her hand and held it. "What are you doing?"

"I am only trying to examine the damage I might have caused you." She matched his fearsome scowl.

"You should be less concerned with the damage you do your enemy and more concerned about your survival."

"I can take care of myself."

He pulled her close against his chest once more. "Are you so sure about that?" He turned her wrist over and bent toward it. His breath rushed warm and swift against her tender flesh, sending shivers up her arm. "Can you defend yourself against this?"

He pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist. The sensitive skin heated beneath his lips. She clutched her skirt with her other hand, fighting the warm sensations that nearly weakened her knees.

He raised his head slightly. "Can you defend yourself if de la Roche attacks without a sword?"

"I can, and I will." Her voice shook.

"What if he does this?" He nuzzled her neck and ran his tongue along the edge of her jaw to the base of her ear.

She could not contain the moan that escaped her as tingles sizzled along her spine. She released the hold she had on the fabric of her dress and found she clamped the fabric of his tunic instead as sensation after sensation battered her defenses.

His breath burned against her ear. She shut her eyes, savoring the exotic sensation.

In the next heartbeat he captured her lips once more, this time more gently. His fingers splayed across her shoulders as his tongue brushed against her lips. She could not deny him the deepest secrets of her mouth or anything else he wanted in that moment. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she responded by curling her fingers around his nape, drawing him even closer until she realized what she was doing.

She dropped her hand, broke the kiss, and stepped back. Her breathing came in ragged gasps as though she'd been battling for hours instead of the fleeting few moments that had passed in his arms.

Simon stepped away, his eyes still burning with the same desire she'd seen there earlier.

"You're a Templar," she whispered. She should not be kissing a Templar for so many reasons she could not begin to count them all!

"Thank you for the reminder," he said, his voice low and cool and suddenly remote.

She reached for her staff, held it tightly in her hands, fighting the urge to pull him close and lose herself in this Templar's kiss once more. "Simon, I—"

"That is enough practice for one night. Perhaps now you will find you are able to sleep. We need you to have a vision, Brianna. That is the only hope we have of identifying de la Roche in his new disguise."

Brianna's lips burned with the memory of Simon's kiss. She knew what was expected of her. "I'll try," she said even though she knew finding sleep now would be nearly impossible. Every nerve in her body leapt to life just thinking of Simon, his kiss, and the thrilling warmth as his body pressed against her own. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not with Simon.

"Do not try, Brianna. Just like battle, there is only one victor and one loser. Do not lose this battle for us all."

Chapter Nine

He should have left at sunrise. Simon frowned at the others seated at the long wooden table with him in Sir Alan's great hall. Four of the knight's men had agreed to go with them as they journeyed the rest of the way to the priory. Four men Simon knew well from his early days as a Knight Templar. They would each be an asset to their small band of warriors.

"Where are the women?" Kaden asked impatiently beside him.

"The extra hours will be time well-spent if Brianna had a dream," Simon replied, trying to conceal his own impatience. "I'm sure it won't be much longer."

Kaden frowned. "Are you certain Brianna's dreams are divinely sent?"

"Of course they are sent from God." Simon startled at Kaden's unexpected words. "Her dreams have saved many. Why would you believe otherwise?"

Kaden's gaze shifted to the tabletop. "I'm trying to be cautious where de la Roche is concerned."

"That is wise, Kaden. But we do not have to suspect Brianna of falsehoods."

Kaden lifted his gaze to Simon's once more. "She played us false once before."

"That was in the past." Simon stood and strode about the chamber, coming to a stop near the smaller hearth at the back of the room. He stared into the red-gold flames. They already had plenty to worry about with de la Roche on the loose. He didn't need his men questioning Brianna's dreams or her intentions. They needed to trust her as he did.

What they needed was action. Brianna's actions would demonstrate to the men that she was trustworthy. He glanced back at the door. It remained empty. He released a sigh of frustration. Why was he delaying their departure? He could march up into the tower room and demand Brianna and Abigail join them. Yet he did not. Was he ready to see her again after last night?

He should never have kissed her, even if it was out of spite. He was angry she'd beaten him. He'd been bested by others before. But never by a woman … and not by a woman who stirred him in ways that she should not. She reminded him of all he'd set aside when he'd taken his Templar vows.

That had been many wars and a long time ago. Yet her one kiss had unleashed an urgent desire for more. The image of Brianna's face suddenly alight with desire formed in his mind. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have a woman in his arms. He clenched his fists.

The woman was desirable. She was definitely skilled in the art of battle. But she was not for him. He had to put the memories of last night out of his mind. Such a distraction could get him and every one of the men in his care killed if he wasn't focused and ready for whatever de la Roche had in store for them next.

Simon straightened and turned away from the fire just as Abigail and Brianna entered the room, Alan and Jessamine following in their wake. Just the sight of Brianna's wild, untamed hair brought warmth to his chest. He forced his response deep inside himself and hastened to greet the foursome.

Brianna stopped her progress and her gaze dropped to the rush-covered floor. Why would she not meet his eyes? Was it because of last night or—

"I did not dream," she said solemnly. "I still could not find sleep even after…" Her words faded away as she finally brought her gaze to his. He saw unbanked fires in her eyes and knew he was not the only one affected by their kiss last night. But it was a kiss that could never be repeated.

Jessamine placed her hand on Brianna's arm, breaking the moment. "You need to stop chasing the dreams. Relax and let the dreams find you instead."

Simon swallowed his disappointment. It would not help Brianna to see how desperate he was for her to dream. He realized the kind of pressure he'd placed on her to perform. "Dreams or not, we can delay no longer." Simon motioned for all the men to join them. "We'd best be on our way. We thank you for your hospitality, Lady Jessamine, Sir Alan, and for the additional men."

Sir Alan clapped Simon on the shoulder. "Until we meet again, Brother."

"Until we meet again." Simon clasped his friend's arm in the Templar salute.

"Your horses are saddled and ready in the bailey and loaded with food and skins to see you through the rest of your journey," Sir Alan said as he gathered his pregnant wife against his chest, facing their guests.

Simon nodded and headed from the hall with Brianna at his side. In the bailey, they mounted their horses and silently proceeded through the gate and over the drawbridge, heading for Crosswick Priory.

Perhaps at the monastery Brianna would dream and reveal the direction of their quest.

Brianna watched Simon as he led them through the open countryside. They were vulnerable here in the open lands. All of them had to be alert to the dangers. Even so, Brianna couldn't help but steal a glance at Simon. He kept his face at an angle to her so that she could not read his emotions, but his commanding presence and power were undeniable. This was a man who had led a hard, harsh life. And yet, there was a gentle side to him as well. He'd shown her that last night when he'd kissed her. Not at first. At first his kiss had been rough, punishing, but then his lips had gentled and he had allowed that part of himself to be seen.

It was that gentler Simon whom she'd missed over the past year. She craved his warmth instead of the remoteness he showed her now. "How far is the priory?" Brianna asked, knowing it mattered not how far away their destination was. They would travel hard until they reached it.

"If we move quickly, Crosswick Priory is but a day's journey to the southeast. We should make it shortly before nightfall."

As though not wanting to converse any longer, Simon took the lead, while Brianna and Abigail rode side by side, with Kaden and the other warriors at the rear in case de la Roche should find them.

Just as Simon had predicted, it was a hard day of riding, with them stopping only to rest the horses. Night was fully upon them when the walls of the priory came into view. The light of the full moon shone brightly against the stark gray stone. They dismounted and while she and Simon settled the horses, Abigail and Kaden untied the charred remains of the Templar they'd brought with them.

"He deserves a proper burial among his kin," Kaden said as he gripped the cloak-covered body in his arms. Together, they headed to the small alms door at the back of the priory.

Simon rapped on the door. Two knocks then a pause. Then three more knocks. After a brief moment, the door was flung open to reveal a tall man with a hood obscuring his face. The man took a step closer and drew back his hood, settling it around his shoulders. His lips turned up in a smile. "Stinger?" a gruff voice asked. "Is that you, Brother?"

"It is I," Simon replied. "As well as Viper and—"

"Mistress Brianna, or, as you are known to the Templars, Shadow Walker." The tall man she remembered as Reaper dropped his gaze to her, appraising her from head to foot, then bowed his head. When he straightened, curiosity blossomed in his dark eyes. "Good to see you in Templar company again."

"It's glad I am to be here," Brianna greeted the abbot with a smile. Once her identity as a female had been discovered among her Templar brothers, Brother Kenneth had been the first to forgive her. He had taken her under his wing, like a protective older brother.

Simon stepped forward. "Brother Kenneth, may I introduce Mistress Abigail MacInnes."

The man's smile increased. "A pleasure, milady."

A heartbeat later the abbot's smile slipped when his gaze settled on the body in Kaden's arms. "Who?" Brother Kenneth asked.

"We don't know, but we wanted to bring him back here where he belongs," Kaden said, moving past the abbot and into the hallway. "I will join you all in the refectory after I see our brother settled in the chapel."