Lion's Bride (4 page)

She stared at him in disbelief. “I did not display—”

“You sent for him while you were naked.”

“It was a mistake. I didn’t mean—I was in my bath and I—”

“Like Bathsheba on her rooftop.”

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.”

“What was it like?” He drew nearer, his gaze boring down at her. “You’re a woman alone and you need protection and sustenance. You chose to inveigle yourself into Kadar’s bed to obtain them. Seduction is a woman’s way.”

She was weary of being battered by his words. She glared up at him. “It’s not my way.”

“Then why did you send for him?”

“It’s true I needed his help, but I—”

He strode toward the door. “If Kadar wishes to couple with you, refuse him. Or you will deal with me.”

He had dismissed her as if she were a hound yapping at his heels, she realized in fury. She would not let him leave her like this.

She strode past him and blocked the door.

“Get out of my way.”

“You’re neither fair nor kind.” She was shaking with anger. “You tell Kadar to take me to his quarters and then order me to refuse him because you fear his displeasure.”

“Get out of my way.”

“It’s true. You fear to lose him because he’s the only one who is foolish enough to accept such a brutal, rude, selfish man as a companion. I do not say ‘friend’ because you could not be friend. You are too guarded and demanding and—”

“Be quiet!”

“And let you abuse me in silence? It’s the way of bullies and pompous louts who—”

He tore the blanket from her body.

She stared at him in shock.

His chest was rising and falling with the harshness of his breathing as his gaze raked her from her blazing face to her naked feet, lingering longest at the thatch of hair that covered her womanhood. “You’re right, I can be demanding and I will be obeyed in this. Kadar chooses not to bed my women. He regards it as a discourtesy.” His hands closed on her waist. “Refuse him, or I’ll make certain he refuses you.”

She could not speak. She could scarcely breathe. She could feel the calluses on his warm hands as he grasped her naked flesh. His grip was not brutal, but she felt as if he were branding her, that even if he let her go, she would have the marks of his fingers on her.

He lifted her with effortless strength to one side and released her.

“You lied,” she whispered. “You said I’d be safe here.”

He smiled bitterly. “But I’m a brute and a bully. You cannot trust the word of such a rogue.”

As the door closed behind him, she sank back against the wall, trembling in every limb. She had never experienced a moment when she had been this helpless. When he had touched her, she had felt totally possessed. Slavery.

Her stomach twisted with panic as she realized that even in Nicholas’s house in Constantinople she had never felt that imprisoned. It must not happen again.

But it could happen. Jasmine’s dislike might instigate another attack and put her in a position where she would be forced into another confrontation with Ware. He had meant what he’d said. It was possible his anger might lead him to make her one of those women Jasmine said he used for his pleasure. She could not bear it.

Of course she could bear it. She had seen coupling both brutal and gentle in Nicholas’s house. It would not be pleasant, but it would not destroy her. The only thing that would destroy her would be to lose what she had already won and to betray Selene. She could not risk being made a toy and kept in this fortress.

No one enters or leaves Dundragon without his permission.

Yet she must leave this place at once. She could not wait, and she must not ask Kadar for help.

But she must make sure all was well before she left. She had tried to carry enough for the journey, but she had not counted on Hassan’s attack or the long trek through the desert.

She didn’t bother to pick up the gauze blanket Ware had thrown onto the floor. Jasmine had taken away her ragged gown, but she would surely bring a replacement soon. She gathered her strength and haltingly walked across the room toward her basket. She sank down on the bed and carefully opened the lid of the basket.

She gasped with dismay. “No!”

Kadar was standing and admiring a graceful brass pitcher when Ware walked into the hall. “This is truly a beautiful piece. I was right in making you barter higher at that bazaar.” He turned to face Ware. “But, then, I’m always right about everything. It must be a great comfort to you that—” He broke off as he studied Ware’s lower body. “But I’d judge you not in the least comfortable at this moment.”

Ware strode toward the table and poured wine into a goblet.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone with her.” Kadar paused. “Did you hurt her?”

“I didn’t rape her, if that’s what you mean.”

“I didn’t think you did. You may have prodigious appetites, but if you’d taken her, even you couldn’t become this aroused again so quickly.” He lifted his wine to his lips. “I was referring to hurting her soul, not her body.”

Ware had a sudden memory of those huge amber eyes gazing at him like a wounded doe when he had accused her of seducing Kadar. He forced the picture away. She was no helpless doe. Only a moment later she had turned and stung him. “She made me angry.” He glared at Kadar. “You made me angry. Why did you fall into her trap? Don’t you know she wants to make use of you?”

“I think she’s the one who is trapped.” He shook his head. “And the world is not entirely filled with deceit and treachery, Ware.”

“It’s safer to expect treachery than kindness. Considering the life you’ve lived, you should have learned that by now.”

“It’s a very lonely road you’ve chosen. Someday you’ll choose to leave safety behind.”

“No.” He threw himself into a chair and smiled sardonically. “Why should I choose a different path? I have everything I want. I’ve a great castle, more gold than Saladin, and the freedom to indulge my every desire.” He lifted his goblet. “And I don’t have to pretend to be anything but the rogue I am. When I go into battle, I admit it’s for gold and not for any higher aim.” He added deliberately, “And, when I couple with a woman, it’s because I lust and must relieve myself, not because Cupid’s dart has pierced my heart.”

“You’re not a rogue,” Kadar said. Then he amended, “Well, not all the time. And when you are, it’s because you’re in pain. You’re like a lion with a thorn in his paw who only growls when he steps on it.”

He felt like that wounded lion now, Ware thought. He was weary of Kadar’s probing, and his loins were aching and heavy. He wanted nothing more than to go back to that wench upstairs and sink between her thighs. Why hadn’t he done it, instead of merely threatening? It would have settled the problem before it became one. “It’s Conrad who is the lion.” He finished his wine in two swallows. “And he’s roaring for me to join him again. A messenger came this morning with an invitation to come to his tent and meet with him. It seems the flush of victory has faded and he wants to make sure Tyre isn’t threatened again.”

“Will you do it?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “Or perhaps I’ll offer my sword to Saladin. Of the two, he is the more honorable.”

“I thought you no longer cared about honor.”

“I care about being paid for my services. Conrad might choose to forget my share of the booty on the grounds I’m a traitor and a renegade. At least Saladin won’t be tempted to hand me over to the Temple and let the Grand Master put a convenient and final end to me.”

“You believe Conrad would betray you?”

“I wouldn’t trust the mercy of the angel Gabriel if the Grand Master applied his influence. You don’t know—” He broke off. Of course Kadar didn’t know. No one could possibly understand who had not been one of the temple. “I have time to make a decision. Perhaps I’ll wait until there’s a new player in the game. Richard of England is rumored to be coming to launch a new and glorious Crusade. My price will only go up after Conrad loses a few battles.”

“Such power. Ah, to be able to change the course of history to suit oneself.” He smiled. “But it’s really too bad you don’t have the freedom to go beyond these walls without a battalion of soldiers.”

Ware carefully kept any hint of expression from his face. He should be accustomed to these jabs by now. They came often enough. “I don’t have to stay behind these walls. It’s my choice.”

“Then why not leave this country? Why be forced to make a choice between Saladin and Conrad? You care nothing for either of them.”

He looked down into the depths of the wine in his goblet. “By God, I
won’t
let that bastard force me to leave.”

Kadar shook his head. “I would have thought the temple would have rid you of the sin of pride.”

“Why? There’s no more pride on earth than in the temple.” He stood up and put his goblet down on the table. “Except perhaps in Kadar ben Arnaud. Stay away from the Greek woman, Kadar. Lust makes all men vulnerable.”

“It’s pity I feel. Though I’m a man and I admit to a little lust at the time,” Kadar smiled. “She has truly lovely breasts.”

Pale and full and crowned with taut, pink nipples.

The memory came back to Ware, and with it a rush of heat to his already aching loins. There was no reason for the intensity of this lust. He had called for a woman to come to his bed last night and had indulged himself thrice before he had fallen asleep. Yet here was need again, sharper and more tormenting than he could remember.

It could not be the woman herself; it must be the anger and defiance she had shown him. The women he had brought to Dundragon to satisfy his needs submitted eagerly to his every wish. It was natural that a challenge might pique his lust.

“Ware.” Kadar’s tone was warning, his gaze on Ware’s face. “She’s still not well.”

“Then get her well enough to send away from here soon.” He smiled recklessly. “It seems she makes that thorn in my paw throb every time I’m near her.”

“As soon as I can.” He frowned. “There may be difficulties. I’m not sure she will have any place to go. She says her father was killed in the caravan.” He shook his head. “I think she was alone.”

“Why should she lie?”

“Because she has something to hide. She was at the end of the caravan, where the very poorest are placed. I doubt if she had little more possessions before Hassan’s raid than when we found her. A woman without funds, traveling alone…” Kadar paused. “The risk is enormous. Only desperation would lead anyone to take such a chance.”

He didn’t want to hear about desperation. He had lived with it as an intimate companion and would not risk a feeling of bonding with the woman. “She has to leave here. Find out the problem and then solve it.”

Kadar nodded. “I’ll try. You must be patient.”

Ware didn’t feel in the least patient. “Solve it or I’ll find my own solution.” He strode toward the door. “It’s growing dark. I have to go inspect the battlements. Are you coming with me?”

Kadar shook his head. “I wish to consider this matter of the woman. I believe I’ll go and see how the falcons have survived my absence.”

The guards on the battlement were in place and alert, as Ware had expected. He had taught them that alertness in a hard arena. He watched a boy running about the courtyard lighting the multitude of torches. He was too young, Ware thought with annoyance, probably not more than ten and two. He had told Abdul no one under ten and six was to be recruited from the villages to come to Dundragon. He would send the lad home tomorrow.

He slowly moved to the edge of the ramparts. The sun was down now, and deep-purple twilight lay over the mountains like a dark cloak.

But there was a glimmering in the darkness on the side of the third mountain. A small pinprick of fire. A campfire.

He had known it would be there. It was always there. He came here to the battlements every evening to watch that fire hurl defiantly out of the darkness, telling him he would never be safe behind these strong walls.

“Good evening, Vaden,” he said softly to the watcher.

He stood looking at the fire until full darkness fell. Then he strode toward the door leading off the battlements.

“Lord Ware.” Jasmine stood in the shadows of the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. It had become her custom to wait for him when he returned from the battlements. Wise Jasmine. Somehow she sensed the bitterness and despair that seared and scarred, and was always ready to provide a balm to soothe the wild tension.

“A woman?” she asked. “To your chamber?”

His chamber was too close to the Greek woman’s, and he did not want to be near her tonight. Her tongue had stung and made him think, and her body had aroused him too much. “No, send her to the hall.” He moved down the stairs ahead of her. “And wine. Many, many bottles of wine.”

“I will send Tasza.” Jasmine called after him, “She always pleases you.”

He did not demand pleasure. He wanted only relief from the lust aroused by Thea of Dimas.

And to forget that tiny, relentless flame burning on the third mountain.

Thea paused at the bottom of the stone steps, gazing hesitantly at the arched opening leading to the hall. She had heard voices and the sound of a lyre only minutes before, but now there was silence. It was close to midnight; he might have retired to his chamber for the night. Perhaps she would have to wait until morning. Relief poured through her.