An Oath Taken (18 page)

She gasped as he slid his hand to cup her, then her eyes darkened with pleasure.

Wanting more, he slid his finger inside her slick warmth and kissed her inner thigh, tasting, teasing as he slowly moved up. Elizabet arched under him, her urgent gasps fueling him as he focused on his erotic task. His body ached, but he would wait for his own pleasure. In this as all things, her needs would come first.

She arched as his mouth reached her apex, and he dipped his tongue inside to taste.

 

A shiver swept over Elizabet, then another. Her body began to convulse. Nicholas slid his tongue deeper, and she fell over the edge. A rainbow of reds, yellows, and whites exploded in her mind as she fought for control.

Lost.

Then her body was floating, drifting back to reality. The thrill of her release pulsed through her as Nicholas trailed kisses up her flesh, touching, tasting, as if he could never have enough. Tears filled her eyes at the depth of this man, the beauty of his soul, and this gift he'd given her. How could she have thought to deny him?

“You are amazing,” he whispered as his lips skimmed over her sweat-slicked body, again stroking the fire inside. When he again took her mouth, she returned his demand, her taste and his melding in a sultry blend.

A shudder raced through her, then another. “Please,” she begged, empowered by his actions, curious to learn more. She arched against him and his hardness wedged against her slick wetness. She stilled.

“I will never hurt you,” Nicholas whispered, his eyes dark with promise, his voice filled with tenderness.

And she understood. With him it would always be her choice. Warmth filled her. “I know.”

“Elizabet.” Her name came out in a needy sigh, erasing her doubts. He nibbled along her lower lip and pressed his length a degree deeper into her slick warmth. He drew back. On a bold thrust, he slid deep, stilled.

The expected pain never came.

Worry darkened his gaze. “Are you feeling well?”

She gave him a tender smile. “Aye.”

“This time, 'twill be for us both.”

With slow strokes he filled her, and her body melted, burned beneath his every drive. She gasped at the rightness of it, the feel. Engulfed by the sensual bliss, she matched his every move. The world raced around her in a violent frenzy. Heaven and earth collided as the first wave of her release wrapped around her in a dizzying assault. She gasped his name as the next rush consumed her.

Their eyes locked.

“Elizabet!” He thrust deep.

Tremors racked her body as his warmth spilled into her, and again her body spun out of control.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she drifted back. Sated, she watched his breathing become steady, his pupils focus, but beneath it all was love.

With a tender smile, Nicholas rolled to the side, and drew her into his embrace.

“I love you.” The words slipped free before she had a chance to recall them.

His eyes darkened with tenderness.

And she saw it, the return of her love. Oh God, what had she done? Before he could return the declaration she never should have disclosed, she pressed her mouth against his.

On a groan he pulled her against him until their bodies merged as one. His tender kiss became urgent, seducing. Thankful to have detoured the catastrophe his pledge would have evoked, she released her inhibitions and savored what fate would deny.

The first rays of sunlight streamed into the window, gliding across Elizabet's body like a lover's touch. She sighed, then became aware of the arm draped possessively over her waist, and the very male hand cupping her breast.

Throughout the night, the hours they'd made love, the intensity, the tenderness of his passion, stole her breath. Passion, she'd tasted it, would forever hold in her dreams. Lips nuzzled against her neck and a slow smile curved her lips.

“Mmmmm . . .” He nibbled her ear. “I thought 'twas but a wish, but none could be as enchanting as you.”

She turned toward him, the love shining in his eyes matching her own. A desperate need seared her, and her hand trembled as she smoothed her fingers across his cheek then along the rough stubble of his jaw. “Make love to me, Nicholas.” On a thick groan, he drew her to him. He pressed soft kisses against her neck as he cupped her breast. “After last night, you will be sore. 'Tis best if we wait.”

Need, powerful, demanding, ripped through her. “Now, take me, please.”

“Never would I hurt you.”

Tenderness filled her. “You willna.”

In a swift move, he rolled on top of her. His eyes holding hers, he sank deep.

She arched against him, and his slow strokes drove her insane. On a cry, she climaxed, and he spilled into her, claimed her mouth and swallowed her cries of pleasure.

Their bodies slicked with sweat, and their breaths ragged from exertion, she let the tremors roll through her. They were one, bonded by the heart, by a forbidden love. Though only one night, she would hold this memory forever. How could she consider more?

Coldness swept her at the memories of her father's bitter words of his nae wanting her. How many times had she foolishly tried to earn his praise, only to be curtly dismissed? Hurt couldna begin to describe the torment, the daring to try to earn his love only to be shunned over and again. And her people locked within Ravenmoor Castle's dungeon. How many had died, including her father, before she could intervene? Then, 'twas Nicholas's fairness, nae her, that let them live. Giric was right. She should have left. Her being here had changed naught, and she'd failed again.

Elizabet swallowed hard. However much she loved Nicholas, she was nae worthy of such a man. 'Twas best if she leave. He would find another woman, one who wasna damaged, one who could love him in return as he deserved.

The bells of Lauds tolled, melding with the call of the birds on this summer morning.

She wished this moment could last forever, but it was already too late. He had his duties, and her own path lay before her.

A life without him.

“I must get up,” Nicholas said without conviction.

And she must leave. To remain would be the greatest of mistakes.

He pressed a soft kiss upon her lips, a kiss filled with the promise of many more. Though sated but tender, her body responded with a fierce urgency.

Ignorant of her emotional strife, he pulled away and stood with a lazy stretch. Sunlight shimmered across his muscled frame, the body of a highly trained knight, the body of her lover, and the body that had pleasured her many times throughout the night.

His soft chuckle made her glance up.

“Do not look at me like that,” he half-growled as he began to harden.

Sadness filled her at how easy it was to be with Nicholas, at the possibilities ahead of them. What was she thinking? He believed he loved her, but he knew her naught. Making love didna equate to a lifetime of happiness. Time would expose her weaknesses, those her father so readily pointed out. Before that happened, she would be gone. But, she had this night, one she would cherish.

“Like what?” She gave a provocative stretch, well aware of the lust-filled battle he fought to control, pleased it was she who incited it.

He strode to the tub. With a grumble he sat in the water, cursed its coolness.

Loving how comfortable he made her feel to be with him, she moved from the bed and walked to stand behind him. “Let me scrub you.” She reached for the soap, and he caught her hand. The silky lather oozed between their fingers.

His eyes, already darkening with promise, held hers. Surprise then realization spread over his face. “ 'Twas you that night!”

“What?” she questioned with exaggerated innocence, aware of the night he referred to. How could she ever forget? 'Twas their first kiss.

“The night I was drunk. I believed that I had kissed a woman and 'twas—” At her delighted laugh, he drew her to him, his punishment tender and sweet. Water sloshed between them like a velvet caress, the combination of soap and man lethal.

Enjoying playing the intimacy of this moment, she splayed her fingers over his chest, reveling in the texture, firm against the downy soft hair. She slipped beneath the water's edge.

His eyes narrowed as he caught a lock of hair and drew her slowly to him. “Be careful, or I will plunder your body without remorse.”

In answer, she cupped him.

On a hiss, he hauled her against him.

The slap of water merged with the sound of their hurried breaths. He pinned her against the inner tub and ravaged her.

“I promised your brother to protect you,” Nicholas murmured between kisses. “Yet I cannot even protect you against myself.”

Like ice thrown over her she turned in his arms and stared at him in shocked disbelief. “My brother?”

W
ater sloshed between them in the tub as Elizabet glared at Nicholas, her emotions a mix of anger and hurt. “You knew Giric was my brother and didna tell me!”

Nicholas muttered a soft oath. “Aye, but 'twas minor compared to the secret you hid from me. Blast it, I have damned myself for my growing feelings over Thomas! Do you think I found pleasure in that?”

Guilt swept her. She'd watched him suffer. “Nay, but hurting you was nae my intent.” But she had.

A muscle worked in his jaw. “Terrick is fortunate his relation to you was kin. Otherwise, I might not have been so forgiving.”

Happiness trickled through her at his jealousy, then faded. What they now shared made the parting worse.

She must leave.

Now.

A cold emptiness filled her as she started to stand.

He caught her shoulders in a gentle embrace. “What is wrong?”

A heart-wrenching ache wrapped around her soul. Each moment she remained would make it that much harder to leave. “Release me.”

His brow furrowed. “Tell me.”

Loving him, if she didna go now she would fall apart. Tears burning her throat, water sloshed as she pushed at his hands upon her shoulders; they held.

“Blast it, you are going nowhere.”

At his commanding tone she stared at him in disbelief. The weakening of moments ago gave way to irritation. “Is that an order?”

“I promised your brother I would watch over you until he returned.”

“And that included bedding me?”

Laughter twinkled in his eyes as he caressed her chin with the tip of his finger. “An added benefit, I assure you.”

She poked her finger in his chest. “This isna a game.”

“No, 'tis not,” Nicholas replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Lady Elizabet Armstrong, I am desperately in love with you.” He drew her to him in the tub and claimed her mouth in a slow, seductive kiss.

His each touch was magic and she wanted more, wanted forever. Except, he didna understand, it couldna be.

Expression somber, he lifted his head. “My pledge to protect you was as much for me as your brother.” He shook his head as she made to speak. “You will listen to me. Illegal goods are being smuggled into England, goods that have already cost too many people their lives. Besides the previous castellan, I am unsure who else is involved.” He exhaled. “Your brother has ridden to Scotland to find information on several leads. I refuse to jeopardize your life by allowing you to return to Wolfhaven Castle. Until I am sure 'tis safe, you will remain with me.”

Elizabet battled the conflicting emotions, but she clung to the scraps of irritation, needing the anchor in the sea of desire. “So you and Giric decided what is best for me. Just like that?”

He arched a curious brow. “And what would you do if I let you leave?”

Lord Dunsten's threat slashed through her in a chilling rush. “You do nae understand. Giric—Dunsten—”

“Slow down.” He skimmed his hands up her arms to rest upon her shoulders. “What does this have to do with Lord Dunsten?”

Nerves trembled and her throat grew dry. “He wants Giric dead.” She moved into his embrace, needing Nicholas's support.

“Explain.”

She searched his face. “Ever since we were children, Giric and Lord Dunsten have been rivals. I am nae sure what made them enemies. My brother would never explain. What I do know is that at the age often and six, my brother returned from hunting with Lord Dunsten and swore their friendship was over.” She paused, remembering her brother's face filled with angst when he'd told her. “Later, Dunsten approached my father and requested my hand in marriage. Regardless that I didna wish to marry the earl, my father was pleased by the match as he felt Lord Dunsten would be a strong ally. Except Giric intervened. I am nae sure what my brother said to my father in private, but after the meeting, he denied the earl's request. Furious, Lord Dunsten departed, but nae before he swore Giric would regret his interference.” Nausea swept her as she remembered Dunsten's touch days before at Ravenmoor Castle. “When the earl cornered me outside the castle during his last visit, he said—”

“What!”

“I couldna tell you then. You thought I was a lad. I planned on avoiding him until . . .”

Steel-gray eyes narrowed. “You vanished.”

She nodded, ashamed at her admission, saddened that now, even after he knew the truth, naught had changed. She still must go.

Tenderness interlaced the anger in his eyes as he cupped her chin and scoured her face. “Did he hurt you?”

“Nay, but after Lord Dunsten kissed me—”

“He kissed you!”

“Aye—”

His eyes blackened with rage. “That he dared touch you, threaten you, by God he will regret both!”

“Nicholas.” Water slid down her arm and dripped into the tub as she took his hand. “ 'Tis nae my welfare that concerns me. He is a powerful lord, and I fear for Giric's life. Dunsten told me that if I didna marry him, he would expose me for being a fraud. I—I couldna take the risk. Please, you must warn Giric.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Lord Dunsten does not know your brother is free.”

Foreboding crept up her spine. “ 'Twill be but a matter of time before he learns of Giric's release. When he does, Lord Dunsten will be furious. More important, he will track him down. Neither do I want you involved further. He is a powerful lord who could attack Ravenmoor Castle, or claim false charges against you to your king.”

Nicholas pressed a kiss on her fingers. “Do not worry about me. I have rebuilt Ravenmoor's defenses, and I have the king's ear. King Edward would nae accept an enemy's claim without proof. As for your brother, he will be back in a few days. When he arrives, I will inform him of the situation.”

“I could ride to Wolfhaven Castle and—”

“Your brother planned to take several of his men from Wolfhaven Castle with him.”

Far from appeased, she studied Nicholas. From what little he'd divulged, she doubted that he would share Giric's destination. At the moment, there was naught she could do except pray for her brother's safe return.

There still remained an issue to settle between her and Nicholas. And wedged intimately with him in a tub was far from the setting she needed to discuss such a volatile matter.

Elizabet stood. The cool drops against her skin made her shiver. She stepped onto the floor and retrieved a blanket. Heart aching, she walked to the hearth, already missing his touch.

The slosh of water sounded as he exited the bath.

She braced herself for his anger. “I canna remain here.”

The rumple of clothes sounded. “We have already covered that,” he said with quiet calm. “You are to remain with me.”

Furious she would dismiss her without question, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, stood, and faced him. “I canna remain now that you know that I am a woman.” Heat stole up her cheeks. “Even after last night, 'twould nae be right.”

 

She was driving him mad! Nicholas strode across the room and hauled Elizabet against him, claiming her mouth in a burning kiss. He broke free. “You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met. And you are staying here!”

Emerald eyes blazed and she stepped back. “I will nae be a mistress to any man, nae even for you.”

Hurt cut deep at her accusation. “Is that what you think, that I would keep you as my mistress and offer you naught but disgrace?”

She swallowed hard, the pain in her gaze mirroring his own. “I think 'tis best if I leave.” Her voice wavered.

He advanced a step.

Elizabet moved back, halted by the hearth. “Please . . . Last night . . .” She shook her head. “ 'Twas a mistake.”

The last shred of calm shattered. “Bloody hell it was!” With a growl, Nicholas tore the blanket from her. His hands roamed her body with a fierce need, touching, teasing as his mouth claimed her driven by the emotions she inspired.

On a moan, she trembled against him, then she began kissing him back.

Nicholas jerked away, his breathing harsh, his body coiled tight. “And was that a mistake as well?”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “Do nae do this.”

He refused to allow her to destroy what they had found. “I love you,” he said, cursing the timing, and with her, not surprised that she'd somehow found a way to undermine his plans to propose in a romantic setting. “I would never shame you. Ever! I had meant to ask you tonight with candlelight in your eyes, and with the love that fills my heart. But I am asking you now.” He knelt before her, took her hand, and pressed it against his heart. “Lady Elizabet Armstrong, will you be my wife?”

He'd expected warmth or at least a semblance of a smile. Instead she grew tense. Terror whipped through him. She was going to say no! He stood and held her, afraid if he let go she would run. “Elizabet. Last night you said you loved me.”

“I do,” she whispered.

“Then marry me.”

Sadness filled her eyes. “I canna.”

Angst tore through him. “Is it because I am a knight and you are a noble?”

“Nay.”

Her breath fell out in a panicked rush as she stared at him, and her eyes filled with regret. He picked up the blanket, and shoved it toward her.

She tore it from his hands and wrapped it protectively around her body.

“We will talk later,” he snapped, angry at his foolishness. How could he have asked her to marry him in the middle of an argument? Was it any wonder she looked at him as if she would bolt? Until things between them calmed, until she revealed why she refused to wed him, he would have comfort in knowing she was safe. “When you are not by my side, a guard will be assigned to you for your protection.”

She glanced around the chamber, her gaze pausing at the rumpled sheets. “I am such a fool.”

“As well as I,” Nicholas said. “But we cannot erase last night, nor would I want to.”

“You do nae understand.”

He glanced out the window. The sun was edging over the horizon. Blast it. The luxury of time had run out. “We will discuss
us
later. 'Tis time to break our fast and take care of the day's duties.”

The all-too-familiar stubbornness filled her gaze.

“You can make this hard or easy.” From her defiant stance, she would choose the latter. Nicholas caught her hand and led her where he'd removed her garb the night before, remembering all too well her naked body pressed against his. Desire filled him, and he began to harden. “Get dressed.”

She eyed him, leaving the clothes untouched. “I do nae like it.”

He couldn't help but smile. By God but she was beautiful when she was upset. “I never thought you would.” He started to leave, paused at the door, and glanced back, her rumpled anger endearing, her sleep-mussed body wrapped in the blanket stealing his heart. “I will speak with one of the other women. Until we can have some of your clothes sent from Wolfhaven Castle, you will have to make do. And I will be by your side when the residents of Ravenmoor Castle learn the truth.”

With a muttered grumble, she picked up a boot and tossed it at the door.

On a chuckle he slipped out, pulled the door shut.

A thump echoed on the opposite side.

Nicholas laughed, sure he was insane, more sure he was in love. For the next few days, until her brother returned, their time together would prove interesting. The challenge of melting Elizabet's anger heated his blood, of gaining her agreement to his proposal a challenge unto itself.

He smiled as he strode down the corridor. As much as she may wish, she wasn't immune to him, and the warrior in him prepared for the upcoming sensual battle. A siege he would win.

 

The lingering scent of porridge and ale from the morning meal hung in the air as Elizabet peered around the corner into the great hall. On a normal day only a few women would have cleaned up from the morning meal as the hounds scavenged through the rushes for the last morsel of meat or bread. Instead, a small crowd of knights and peasants had gathered within, which could have been a thousand as far as she was concerned.

At her side, Nicholas gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “All will be well.”

Thankful for his presence, Elizabet released a slow breath and glanced up. “I am nervous.” An understatement. She was terrified.

Though dressed in a fine linen gown of eggshell blue, found in one of Sir Renaud's many chests, and with her raven hair brushed until it shone and looking every bit the noblewoman, she felt like an oddity. How did one announce that the lad they'd worked alongside over the past several weeks was in fact a woman, a woman who was nobility, and one who had stayed within their castellan's chamber? God forbid if they learned she'd shared his bed.

Fear tore through her. This wasna going to work. If they didna eye her as some three-headed ogre, they would look upon her as a traitor, or believe her his whore.

“ 'Tis time,” Nicholas said, drawing her forward.

“I am nae ready,” she whispered. “A moment more.”

With tender smile he winked. “You are too stubborn to be nervous.”

She drew her shoulders back. And what did he know, the Sassenach. “I am . . .” At the love in his eyes, she realized he'd goaded her on purpose to make her forget her nerves. How could she nae love him, or even think of shaming him by acting with any hint of cowardice? Elizabet drew herself up. For him she would brave it all.

With a pleased nod Nicholas took her arm, then stepped forward with her by his side.