Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (30 page)

He kissed her once more. Her body was warm and lithe in his arms. Her tension mingled with his own. She returned his kisses with a passion laced tight with a deeper struggle.

“Why can’t I just stay away from you?” she sighed. “Why can’t I forget about you?”

“Because I love you,” he answered her. “Stay with me. Be with me. Always.”

She swallowed a cry of longing and frustration. He felt her resolve break. Her body surged against him, her arms
holding him.
She took what she wanted from him and he was helpless to do anything but give to her. Her fingers slid to the ties of his tunic and tugged
them loose
.

His body responded immediately. He followed her lead, pulling at the laces of her kirtle. He had wanted her this way, missed her this way, for far longer than he wanted to admit. None of that mattered now. She was here, in his arms, she wanted him, and his heart screamed that it wanted
nothing in the world but her.

With the laces of her kirtle loosened, he broke from her lips and reached down to pull her skirt up.
She
lifted her arms, letting him tug the yards of material over her head. He tossed her kirtle aside and slid her underdress over her heated body as well. While she rolled her stockings off he peeled his tunic and shirt off over his head and shucked his chausses.

When their bodies met again
,
skin slid against hot skin. He kissed her as if the world was coming to an end,
drawing
his hand up the lithe curve of her side to cradle her breast. She sighed with wild longing, digging her fingers into his back and lifting a leg over his hip. He caught her backside to hold her against him, panting as he kissed her jaw,
he
r chin, the line of her neck. Th
e hard beat of her pulse under his lips loosened his control.

He pulled her fully into his arms and sank onto the bed with her. Their eyes met as he settled ov
er top of her. The fire shining from her
soul
was a frightening encouragement.
She was
frantic with passion, wild with
yearning
like nothing he’d ever seen before. She clasped her hands around his back and neck and pulled him down for another burning kiss.

She writhed under him,
her body demanding everything
. Her legs wrapped around his waist.
The force of her need rushed through him like a swift-running river, but he took a breath and forced himself to slow down. He traced his fingers across her side from her thigh to her breast. Everything about her body was soft, everything in her spirit was hard
and angry
.

He cupped her breast, circling his finger around her nipple until it stood pert. She moaned with wordless urgency, brow creasing to a frown. Her hips ground against his, asking for a quick release. He had no intention of giving it to her. He dipped to kiss her lips, feather-soft kisses that left him wanting more.
She struggled against him, fingers digging into
his
back like a warrior.

His mouth followed the line of her jaw to the pounding pulse of her neck. She was beautiful. Her taste was so familiar. The feel of her body spoke of a time of innocence, before the world had gone dark. He licked that light from her skin, trailing his tongue across her collar and chest. He lifted her breast and closed his mouth over her nipple to suckle and tease it with his tongue.

Joanna
sighed with a sound that was close to despair.
Her hips arched towards his with a new insistence. “I want you,” she mewled and reached towards his backside. He shifted away from her reach, kissing the plane of her stomach. As he circled his tongue around her navel she cried, “No, not this, I just want you.”

“And I want you,” he answered.

He slid his hands along the underside of her thighs, parting them further. She let her legs fall to the side and threaded her fingers through his hair.
She was wet and waiting for him. He slid his fingers into her wetness, parting her folds. The heady musk of her sent blood pounding through him. The ache in his cock was desperate for release. He searched out the tight nub of her sex, rubbing it.

Joanna gasped and jerked against his hand. He took it as an invitation and pressed his mouth against that part of her. She cried out as he licked with light strokes that grew more insistent. Her honeyed taste was as familiar as coming home. Her slightest movement and smallest sigh of passion touched silent memories of days spent wrapped in each other. He’d learned pleasure from her, learned how to give it by pleasuring her.
She was the first love he’d ever known and the last one he ever wanted to know.

Her sighs grew pitched. He felt her hot, wet core contract with the tremors of an orgasm. No victory in battle had ever filled him with pride like making her come. He
reveled in the sensation until it slowed and stilled, then he
slid his body back up hers to capture her lips in a kiss.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” he whispered.

He sought out the slick opening of her sex with his shaft and surged into her. The tight enclosure of her core felt so good that
a rumbling sigh escaped from him
. She answered his cry, arms and legs embracing him, but the urgency of coupling with her overtook all thought. He thrust again and again, body taking
charge
and striving for the only goal it knew. Each stroke washed him with pure pleasure, but it was his heart
that
longed for release. The emotion that grew more and more pitched with each deep thrust encompassed him, pulled him under.

When at last his seed burst into her his heart seemed to burst in his chest with it. “I love you, Joanna,” he growled, continuing to thrust as his passion wore itself out. “God, I love you.”

He
collapsed, spent, when there was nothing left in him to give. She had it all already. He withdrew from her and settled against her side
, arms and legs and soul still tingling with the power of their coupling
.

Through the haze of fulfilled passion he felt her shift, limbs moving slowly, to cradle against his side. He drew her closer, closing his
embrace
around her. She rested her head against his shoulder without saying a word.

Ethan smiled, contentment flooding him.
The world had never felt more right.

Roderick leaned back in
a
chair near the door of The Stag Hunt
common room
. He tugged at the wide brim of the hat he wore and took another long draught of his ale. It curdled in his stomach as Madeline’s laughter sounded from the other side of the room. She cradled her baby in her arms, but her adoring gaze was for Simon, his father.

“And Wulfric has been learning to be quite the gardener,” she continued to gush as if they were at a party. “I don’t know what Crispin will think of that, but I’m sure Aubrey will be delighted.” Her mousy smile twisted to worry.

“You haven’t been able to
see
her
at all?” Simon asked.

“Of course not,” Roderick muttered and shoveled a spoonful of stew into his mouth. “
Pennington’s got her locked in a golden cage
.” He snorted and would have spit on the floor if it wouldn’t have drawn attention to him.

He had been sitting in the miserable inn for hours, since his father had arrived. He’d watched the midday crowd come and go and the supper crowd arrive. The sun was well on its way to setting. His father had listened with stoic patience to everything the mousy moppet Madeline had said, but he hadn’t once bothered to look around the room and notice his own son.

“And you say it’s difficult to gain access to the Tower?” Simon rehashed what they had jabbered about all day.

“I can’t set foot out of the inn, let alone go near the Tower,” Madeline told him. “But Joanna has taken a temporary job there and Ethan
has become a favorite of the king
.”

“But he can’t see Aubrey?” Simon questioned.

“
I don’t think so
.”

“Whatever became of our Ethan?” the old hag who owned the inn with her puffed up husband asked. Her eyebrow cheated up as if she knew the answer but wanted to gossip about it.

The awkward silence around the table was broken by the whelp Wulfric. “He’s taking a nap.”

Roderick chuckled into his ale. Anyone who had been out in the courtyard that afternoon knew the last thing Ethan was doing was taking a nap. Roderick plunked his tankard on the table and stood. It looked like his friend was back to his old ways
with the women
.

He shot a final look to the table where his father sat, implacable as always. “I need to get into the Tower to see Jack as soon as possible,” Simon skated over the gossip.

Roderick sniffed and pushed through the door into the street. “
Typical
,” he muttered.

He set off in the twilight, picking up speed to a jog when he reached the intersection.
A few streets up and into the
stylish
side of town and he was at Pennington’s estate
.

Pennington’s dim-witted gatekeeper saw him coming and was already ope
ning the gate as he reached it
. He didn’t acknowledge the idiot as he slipped into the courtyard and rushed up the steps to the front door. He let himself in as though the house was his.
No one stopped him.

“You don’t keep a prince waiting!” Matlock was in the midst of quarreling with Pennington when Roderick crept into the room. “John wants a report of the progress of our plan and he wants it yesterday.”

“My dear
Stephen
,” Pennington drawled as picked at a roast from the head of the table. “The only thing you
can
do is keep a prince waiting. It reminds them
who really holds the
power.”

“I wonder if you’ll keep saying that when John is our king and your head is on a spike at the Tower!”

Pennington heaved a peevish sigh and frowned at Matlock as he paced the length of the table. “The girl was almost successful this morning
. Ethan unwittingly focused the blame for her actions on himself. I should thank him
for saving me a heap of trouble
. The girl will be seen to be acting on his orders going forward. Since sh
e fears for her
delightful
mistress’s wellbeing it should be simple to coerce her into a second attempt.
If not, I’ll demonstrate exactly what my intentions for Lady Aubrey are.
”

“Enough about Lady Aubrey already!” Matlock turned and thundered at him. Pennington’s eyebrow twitched. “I am sick and bloody tired of listening to you wax on about how badly you want that bitch in your bed! There are more important things at stake here than your cock!”

Matlock spun to pace away before he could see the venomous spark in Pennington’s eyes. Roderick caught it with a shiver that left him licking his lips. Someone was going to die.

“As if your futile attempts to locate your daughter so you can punish her haven’t distracted you from the cause,” Pennington fired back at Matlock.

“She can’t hide forever,” Matlock grumbled. “She has no friends here. She is just a woman.”

“She is at an inn called The Stag Hunt,” Roderick spoke up, the thrill of revelation spreading a grin across his face. “I found her there this evening.”

Pennington narrowed his eyes at Roderick’s revelation.
Matlock’s face splotched with red. He broke from the track of his pacing to charge towards him. “Where is it? Where is this inn?”

“A stone’s throw from the Tower.” Roderick grinned. “Simon McFarland has just arrived to help her.”

“He’ll need help himself,”
Matlock vowed. “I need six men, heavily armed,” he said, turning to Pennington.

Pennington took a leisurely bite of his roast.
He sent Roderick a look that said he would deal with him later. Roderick ignored it. Pennington had too much else on his plate. By the time he got around to dealing with him Roderick would be long gone.

“As soon as I have th
e men to spare they’ll be yours,
”
Pennington addressed Matlock with a shrug.
He took a long drink of wine
without looking at the man
.

Matlock made a fist and marched to the head of the table. “You will give them to me now! I won’t rest until my daughter gets what she deserves for defying me!”

“Then you won’t rest for a day or two,” Pennington shrugged, unfazed by Matlock’s glowering. “I cannot spare the men. Not until our original and most important purpose is fulfilled.” He finished his comment by meeting and holding Matlock’s gaze.

“Our deal was that I help you dispose of Richard if you help me get rid of Huntingdon and his upstart peasant dog.”