Linda Needham (14 page)

But Talia already had Gemma in her arms, and was trying to herd Lissa toward the door. “Time for all of you to be abed. You too, Brenna, Fiona. Lord Alex and I still have lots of work to do.”

Lissa reached up to Alex. “Carry me, please, Lord Alex. And Licorice, too.”

The girl had an irresistible smile. Feeling sorry for the poor rabbit, he lifted the pair of them, surprised that Lissa weighed nothing at all, utterly ambushed by the feeling that she needed his protection.

That the lot of them did.

Talia felt her chest fill with adoration and horrible regrets as Alex led them all up the stairs, wondering why the simple sight of him carrying Lissa against his shoulder moved her to the brink of tears.

The little girls scrambled into bed and were dozing and asleep moments later.

“Please stay with them, Brenna, while I help Lord Alex with the records,” Talia whispered, “and keep the rabbits inside the room.”

“I will.”

Alex was frowning fiercely at poor Kyle, who was standing at attention just inside the chamber.

“And you, boy,” he said with unrepentant gruffness, “will leave the family ward immediately.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kyle bowed and scooted past them, disappearing in a clatter of bootheels.

Talia glared up at the man as she passed him on the landing and hurried down the stairs. She waited to speak her mind until they were back in his chamber, waited still further until he was settled in his chair, and wallowing deeply in another frown.

She stood in front of him.

“Tell me who that boy is to you, Alex.” She leveled a finger at him. “And don’t you dare ask
which
boy, because you know very well that I mean Kyle.”

He leaned forward and poured ink into the horn well. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Ballocks.”

He flicked a brow at her, cocking his head as though he’d never heard a lady curse. “What did you say?”

“You heard me fine, Alex. I said ballocks. I don’t believe you.”

“And you heard
me
. I’ve nothing to tell you about the boy, other than that you coddle him.”

“And
you
revile him.”

“I do not revile him. I have no opinion at all. Now sit, please, we’ve got—”

“Alex, the very fact that you can have no opinion of that decent young man who lives only to please you means that you very well do have an opinion of him.”

“I have no intention of talking about this.”

Talia pulled up a stool and plunked herself down in front of him. “All right then, what indefensible thing has he done to you?”

The man mulled that for a long while, watching her mouth, then studying her eyes while some kind of confession perched on his tongue. He shifted finally in his chair. “He’s done nothing.”

“Then why is it that every time you see him, you act as though he carries the plague? You rarely use his name. Who is he to you?”

“Let it rest, Talia.”

“Is Kyle your son?”

Alex burst out of the chair, went to stand above the brazier. “Christ, no! He’s not my son—”

“But Kyle is blood to you.”

“Damn it, woman, leave it alone.”

“He is, isn’t he? Related to you in some estranged way. A cousin? A brother?”

He went still, even stopped breathing, then whispered, “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does, Alex. It matters very much if it’s true. Is Kyle your brother?”

He let out a long sigh. “Half.”

Which still didn’t explain a single thing. “Kyle is your half brother?”

“We share a father,” he said, as though the words left a vileness in his mouth. “Such as he was.”

“Then your father didn’t marry Kyle’s mother?”

He stalked to the table, poured a cup of wine, looking suddenly reckless, his hair falling against his brow. “Or mine. My noble father made a practice of not marrying any of the women he bedded.”

“I am sorry for that, Alex. But none of it is Kyle’s fault. You can’t blame him for your father’s sins. That isn’t fair.”

“I don’t blame him, Talia.” He looked down into the wine cup. “I just don’t need—”

—anyone.
The man may have stopped midconfession, but she could have finished for him. Because she was beginning to understand.

“Never mind, Talia.”

And she wanted to smooth the fretting from his forehead, to curl her fingers through his hair. “But that’s the trouble, Alex; I do mind. Because you are such a puzzle to me, and we have so little time left together.”

“The entire night, if need be.” He thunked the chair into place. “I want to lay out the work schedule before morning. We’re days behind.”

So far behind, they would never catch up.

But she couldn’t very well leave the man like this, to blindly stumble his way through the world. He needed to be cracked open, whether he wanted to be or not.

“I
s he still alive, Alex? Your father?”

“My father?” He glanced at her sideways, shook his head, his eyes looking weary and far away. “From what I understand, he was mortally wounded ten years ago, dying in the same way he lived.”

“Was he a soldier?”

The long breath he took seemed to come from some very dark and desolate place. “Oh, no, my dear Talia. My father was a monster. Murderous, mercenary, a thug, loyal to no one but himself. A violent and venal and cowardly man. Monstrous to his black heart.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. I saw him but a half dozen times
in my entire life. He occupied himself defying King Henry and ravaging the countryside.”

“What about your mother? Is she still alive?”

“No. I last saw her when I was ten—the day my father came to steal my brother and me by the scruff of our tunics.”

“For what purpose?”

He laughed with a terrible coldness, shrugged as though it was obvious to her. “Because Gilbert and I had finally become useful to him.”

“Gilbert?” He’d never mentioned the name before. There was a lightness about the sound. “Your brother?”

“Born of the same mother, older than me by two years.”

“Where is Gilbert now?”

He touched the edge of the table, then ran his palm along the coarse grain. “Gil was hanged as a hostage when he was twelve.”

Talia felt her heart flip. “Alex, no. How horrible. Who would have done that? Hanged an innocent boy?”

Alex shrugged as if this offense against God was an everyday thing. He sat on the edge of the table. “Henry, did. The late king.”

“Dear God!” No wonder Alex had chosen Stephen above Maud’s abominable father. “But why, Alex? Why was Gilbert being held?”

“Against my father’s treacherous behavior.
Henry ought to have known not to trust a man with my father’s reputation for falsehoods.”

“But to hang a boy for his father’s outrages!” She stood between the spread of his knees, wanting to see into his eyes. “You must have been overwhelmed with grief when you found out.”

“Nearly paralyzed with it.” He looked past her. “And terrified for my own life.”

“Oh, the bloody bastard. Threatening you as well. Outlawing your entire family, I suppose. Sending out the hue and cry.”

“No, my dear. I was there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was there with my brother.”

Then she realized with a terrible dawning, the unforgivable thing his father had done. “Oh. Oh, no, Alex. Your father gave Henry two hostages, didn’t he? Gilbert…and you.” Her throat closed over.

“Aye. And me. You see, my father had lots of insurance against his own treachery. He had many sons to give.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but he did. Henry was raging when he learned that my father had continued his raiding, that he’d had no intention of retrieving a living son when he had so many to spare.”

“Alex, no,” she slipped his hand between hers, then held it tightly against her chest.

“We were bastards, all of us. Worthless to him. To anyone. A farthing to the dozen.”

“But you said you were there when Henry…when Gilbert died. How did you not…”

“How did I escape the hanging, my dear?” He laughed again, a dry, tearless sound. “Timing. Chance. The outrage of my guard.”

“He let you escape?”

“The king was breaking camp at the time and things were chaotic. But my guard had heard the king would be coming for me next. So he let me go.”

“What happened to him?”

Alex looked into her eyes, brought her fingers to his lips. “Why did I know you would ask that, Talia?”

“Well, I…”

“Because you were worried about him.”

“Why, yes, I—”

“This very courageous man who had risked his life to save mine, when my own father was perfectly willing to sacrifice me.” He pulled her softly, slowly against him. His lips in her hair, and then his fingers at her nape, pulling her closer. “I’ve wondered that too, Talia. Through all of my life.”

Oh, the delicious rumble of his voice inside her, seeking the deeper places she kept from everyone. “Did you never find out who he was, Alex?”

“Never. I was too terrified to come within leagues of Henry for years. And when I was finally old enough, Henry was gone, and I unwaveringly pledged myself to Stephen.”

“The king had better damn well know what a fortunate man he is to have you on his side.”

“That’s high praise coming from you, madam.”

Alex loved the feel of her, the scent of her wrapped in his arms. The warmth of her snuggled against him, her cheek now a print of heat against his shoulder.

Not to mention her belly pressed against his groin.

“Well-deserved praise, Alex.” She pushed away slightly from him, studying him. “Stephen would be a feebleminded fool not to recognize your value to him. I’ll tell him so the moment he arrives.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t.” Preferred lifting her into his arms and carrying her the last few dangerous steps to his bed. “In fact, Talia,” he said, setting her well out of the reach of his unquenchable desire for her, “I preferred your low opinion of me to this elevated one.”

“I doubt that very much, Alex.” She furrowed her brow, frowning as though she’d just caught him in a lie. “You’re a practical man, and we didn’t get anything done back then, did we? Before we settled things between us.”

Alex felt anything but settled. Aroused and aching and ready to burst. “We’re not getting much done now, madam.” He sat down on the bench, then flattened and weighted the corners of the household roll, hoping finally to draw her to the table, to the rest of the evening’s work.

But she disappeared into the darkness across the room, only to return with an armload of wood for the brazier. “It’s just easier for me now, Alex, knowing for certain that we’re not going to be married. Unburdens me.”

It was easier to watch those perfectly shaped hips as she bent to the brazier, the gentle curves that beckoned to him. Though it irked him that she could just toss him off that way. “Aye, Talia, so you’ve told me.”

“It’s much easier for me to imagine a peaceful future for my people, knowing that you mean to try to do well by me when you go looking for a husband.”

“As I’ve promised.”

“Most important of all is that you won’t ever try to kiss me.”

He knew he was every kind of fool even to look at her, at the smoothness of her cheek, the ends of her hair rising and curling in the fire wind.

Every kind of fool for answering from his heart. For rising off the bench when he ought to stay rooted in sanity. “I’ve promised nothing of the sort.”

She thought for a moment, wearing a dangerously enigmatic smile. “But I know now that you would never press your attentions on me. Unless…” She dangled the word in front of him, and he had to ask.

“Unless…?” Foolish, foolish man.

She raised a carefree brow at him. “Unless I offered no objections.” Hazardous banter—invitations and offers.

“Or
I
did.” A last chance. A plea to himself to stop, not to gather her hair in his fists. Though she had hold of the lacing at the front of his tunic, worrying her lower lip.

“But I am right, Alex, that you have no wish to kiss me?”

He shook his head, knowing he was traveling toward a treacherous brink that he might not be able to pull away from. “No, Talia, that wouldn’t be true at all.”

She quirked an eyebrow, sly and hinting. “Then you do wish to kiss me?”

Quicksand. Softly scented, invitingly warm quicksand. And he was slogging through it gladly. “I do, madam. Through most of my waking hours, I do.”

She seemed genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You mean…right now, Alex? Here?”

“Christ, yes, Talia. Right now. And yesterday eve. And today in the lists. And tomorrow when
you take the bread cart down to the village.” He’d pinned her against the table, wanting her, but not quite touching her, for that would be his final folly.

“But you wouldn’t. Would you?”

A man could only talk about kissing a magnificently kissable woman for so long.

“The hell I wouldn’t.”

Talia knew she shouldn’t have been testing him, teasing, or wanting him to touch her. Or so delighting in his breath against her mouth. Surely there were demons inside her, tickling, mischievous ones.

He was very close, and irresistibly tall. He was huge, with shoulders like a mountain—a warrior out of legend, so broadly muscled that she could feel them flexing through the thickness of his tunic.

Her backside was pressed against the table, and he was gently, insistently, spreading her thighs with his knee, leaving her to stare up into his breathlessly devilish grin.

“Well, are you going to, Alex?”

“Most probably.” He stepped even closer, leaving her to indelicately straddle his thigh. “Though, God knows, I shouldn’t.”

“Why, Alex?” The man was a marvel of honor and respect, difficult to analyze. The light from the brazier planed his features in orange; the dim
ness of the chamber stole the lighter shadows and deepened them. His eyes sparkled like midnight and diamonds, made her blood heat. “You know your mind most times.”

“Aye, Talia, and I know it right now. Clearly. As you must know it.”

She did know. And felt his thoughts through his fingertips as he threaded them into the hair at the edge of her temples, taking his own exquisite time. He watched her intently when he caught her jaw and drew his thumb slowly across her lips.

“Oh, my!” And here she was, leaning against him, her eyes wide-open. “I think I’ve been a bit forward with you, Alex. Improper.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, wickedly. “Oh, yes, Talia. Perfectly improper.”

“Good.” Because she wanted to be. Just this once. To wantonly shape the hugeness of his erection against her belly. To fancy a sanctuary with him that could never be, to imagine children who would never be born.

“Ah, Talia.” He took close to forever making his way toward her mouth, touching his wonderful lips to her forehead, to her temple, breathing against her ear.

Tilting her chin as he brushed his kiss along her jaw, and then he touched his fingers to the center of her lips.

“You’re soft here, Talia.” He furrowed his brow as though his discovery troubled him, then drew another of the deep breaths that seemed to surround her.

“You’re not soft anywhere, Alex.” She couldn’t help squirming against him just a bit.

“Holy Christ, Talia.” He gave a worriedly surprised smile and, like the impatient, ungoverned woman she was, Talia shifted her head for a better aim, clutched his elbows to pull him closer.

“Perfectly improper, madam,” he said, so close that every word touched her lips, blended with her own breath.

“Alex, I—”
Oh, my. Oh, unbelievable bliss!
He finally, deliciously covered her mouth with his, softer than she could ever have imagined, almost sweetly.

“God save me, Talia.” With a driving, soul-hungry groan, he possessed her utterly, a searing jolt that shot sparks to the ends of her fingers, that seemed to plunge to the center of her.

“Just for tonight, Alex.” Just between them. No one else in the world mattered.

He rose up from his kiss and stared at her, and the table rocked and the candle danced as he caught her up in his arms and gathered her hard against him.

“It’ll be all right, Alex.” But it wouldn’t. Not ever, after tonight. Her heart thudding with stolen wonder, Talia climbed more deeply into his em
brace, throwing guilt over the battlements, moving her hips against the length of his wonderful hardness, wishing for a lifetime of him, willing to steal just the moment.

And so she kissed him with a full measure of passion, traced the planes of his midnight-bristled jaw, brushed her lips across the soft play of his eyelashes. He tasted of sweet wine and leather and ink.

He groaned and slanted another hot, slippery kiss across her mouth, then slid it down the front of her chemise, blowing hot through the linen. His breathing ragged and pleasuring as he shaped his hands beneath her breasts and lifted them, as though he might kiss them as well.

A heady, wholly impossible thought.

He watched her face as he grazed his thumbs across her nipples, sending a deliciously feverish clenching to the joining of her thighs.

“Oh, Alex. Oh, yes!”

She didn’t know what else to say to this unexpected intimacy, because she could imagine so very much and had lost her will. He was such a large and powerful man, crowded with courage, too big for her castle, yet he was trembling as he enfolded her tightly in his arms, as if to rescue her from the tangle that she’d caused on her own.

“You’re very good at this,” he said against her temple.

“At kissing, you mean?”

“Aye.”

“Inspired completely by you, Alex. I’ve never been kissed before. Not like this.” Not by a man of honor, who seemed to care. Who didn’t smash his bristly, ale-reeking mouth against hers.

He frowned at her with half a brow, steadied his breathing. “Betrothed a half dozen times…”

“Nothing ever like your kiss, Alex.”

This seemed to please him only for a moment, then sent him frowning more fiercely. “If only I could…”

“Stay, Alex?” Oh, this suddenly riled her, set her cheeks ablaze and her heart racing with a kind of helpless anger that she’d been stifling for days. Alex and his bloody heiress. She twisted out of his embrace and went to a safer place across the table. “And collect all of my embraces for yourself?”

“Talia, if only…”

If only she were wealthy and pregnant with titles and ensconced in a tower of gold. Not that it mattered anymore. Carrisford would be gone, and so would he.

And she was beginning to feel reckless and ill-mannered. “Then you think Conrad will be pleased?”

He settled his gaze on her like a weight. “Pleased?”

“With me, Alex? With the way I will kiss him? Though my way is far from proper, as you said. Do you think Conrad will understand?”

He cleared his throat. “I think that’s quite enough, Talia.”

“You’re right. Any more of this, and we might have ended the night tangled in your bed linens. And then I would no longer be a virgin. And then
whoomp!
there goes the price of my marriage bed. Right into the ground.”