Seducing Anne (7 page)

“And that is the night you will be mine.” He smirked and ran down the corridor with her tucked into his chest.

“A man that dreams big is something to be admired.”

He barked a laugh. “A man with a big cock is worthier though.”

She hid her face in his chest, muffling her own laughs.

“If you cannot see, you cannot direct me where to go. You seemed to like taking the reins on the horse. I am offering my own reins to you this one time only. Where do I go?”

“Three more doors down on the right. You are across the corridor from me. Only I have a few more sitting rooms, so it will protect me.”

“From what?” He nuzzled his nose into her hair. She smelled like lavender. Was that what she bathed in? Was that why she said she would give him some for his washing?

“From you, of course. I know a knave when I meet one. Why do you think I hired you?”

“You think I should answer that?” He dropped his head, bit her shoulder and then put her on her feet.

“This is your door. I bid you a good day. I shall see you this evening for our meal.” She curtsied.

He bent over, gripped her chin and lifted her face to his. “Or perhaps before if I cannot contain myself.”

“Well, try. I have a king to appease.”

“And I have a king to piss off.”

“What does that mean? I have never heard that phrase before.” She cast him a curious look.

Goddammit. He’d slipped. She was disarming him again, and he was starting to sound like a modern man, not a Tudor man. “Nothing worth explaining.” He patted her thigh. “Shoo, my lady. Find him and woo him. Do not idle away your time with a game of bowls. Thomas Wyatt is not worth it.”

She dropped her head into a cursory nod, then left.

He opened his chamber door and stopped breathing.

His room was filled with lavender, and a bar of soap sat on the bed.

“Little lady is asking for a spanking—
several
,” he muttered and stepped all the way inside.

Chapter 4

Instead of bathing in the sprigs of fresh lavender Anne had provided, Guy scattered them under his bed linens.

Better his bed should smell of her at night when he was resting, instead of him smelling like her all day. It would serve as a reminder to him of what his ultimate goal was—making love to her.

Somehow he didn’t even care anymore if he got her pregnant or not. She made the bet, and he’d accepted the challenge.

Rap, rap, rap.

He grinned and opened his chamber door.

“Excuse me, Lord Moore, but Mistress Boleyn has instructed us to carry this bath to your private chambers,” the servant said.

“By all means—enter,” Guy said, sweeping out of his way.

Four yeoman carried in the heavy brass tub and set it before his fireplace that was currently empty of wood and fire.

“If you will give us some time, we can attend to your bathing and—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Guy held his palm up to the yeoman facing him. “I can see to these things myself.”

“But, sir!” The servant gawked.

“I’m quite capable of scrubbing my body myself. Been doing it for many years, lad.”

“Nobility do not bathe themselves!”

“Well, then it’s quite lucky I am no gentleman. I am here for other reasons than nobility. Go see to someone else that requires your assistance, sir . . .” Guy held his hand out now, motioning for the man to tell him his name.

“Norris, my lord. Henry Norris here to assist you. I am one of the king’s most trusted men. Groom of the Stool and gentleman of the bedchamber, so I know how to make you presentable for His Majesty when you join him at dinner.” He bowed.

“Stand up, my good man. We already established I’m not worth scrubbing down, so that would exclude dinner as well.” Guy went back over to the door and opened it. “Enjoy your afternoon. Read a book, flirt with the minstrels or take a nap. I don’t care which, just leave my chambers.”

The five men departed, looking disgruntled and shocked.

Oh, yes—Guy knew exactly what he was doing.

He pulled his shirt off, and with the basin of water one of them had carried in during his conversation with Norris, he cleaned with the soap Anne had provided, careful to wash his armpits twice so she’d maybe consider being near him.

When he was done with that, he stripped down and gave himself a sponge bath.

He didn’t have any fresh linens or a change of clothes, so he air dried and then put the same shirt back on, even if it was still a little damp.

This was the outfit Nick had given to him.

Right as he was pulling his breeches back on . . .

Rap, rap, rap, rap.

He secured his trousers in place, moved over to the door and paused, gloating inwardly at how the pounding on the door seemed to escalate to a panicked knocking.

He opened the door to find a rather flushed, doe-eyed Anne, standing there in a crimson velvet dress.

“My lord, why are you not attending dinner?”

“I lack the proper attire, but I am certain by supper, the servants will be so tired, they’ll allow me into their kitchen to eat.”

She reached her hand out. “We can find you some clothing.”

“Why would we do that? And whose clothing do you plan to take on my behalf?” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Harry’s, of course. He will not notice,” she said, extending her hand out to him.

“I would rather wear the clothes of a beggar than take to his clothing.”

She blinked and made a scraping noise at the back of her throat. Her jaw flexed.

“I will allow you to skip dinner then, but not supper. The king would expect you to be there, and I would, too.”

He grinned. “And why would he notice if I was gone?”

“Because I would—and I would tell him that one of his new subjects at court is ignoring the rules of diplomacy.” She shifted her weight toward the door.

“Ah, I see . . .” He circled her. “So, you would compromise yourself by informing him you have business with me?”

She pressed her lips together, her face pinched and her cheeks flushed. “Please—my lord. Please . . . Why must you be so difficult?”

“I am doing nothing other than helping you to be true to yourself. Now, be honest—why do you want me there? Is it due to our arrangement?” He stepped into her and played with a lock of her hair, brought it up to his nose and inhaled. “Lavender and you—
hypnotic
.” His heart pounded at the scent of her.

“You, sir, are distracting,” she said, watching him fingering her tresses.

“And you, fair lady, are avoiding answering my question. So, I repeat—why do you want me there?”

“I . . . I could use a friend. Harry’s court is vexing at times, and though I am the accomplished actress and can charm the courtiers, I do not really enjoy their company. I am not truly one of them.”

“Are you saying you have an accord with me?” His right brow slipped up to his forehead.

“Please, Moore. Will you come—for
me
?” Her voice broke at the end.

His stance widened, and he gripped her hair at the nape. “I will make a deal with you, Anne.”

She swallowed and wore the most innocent, pleading look he’d ever seen. His heart raced even harder when he gazed into those dark eyes.

“I will make you a deal, Mistress Anne. If you will promise to call me
sir
or
my lord
from now on and refuse to give the king those titles, then yes, I will be there. And I shall call you my little lavender, since you have an affinity for it.”

Her breath barely escaped her, and she looked ready to fall over from the shock.

“What say you? Have we an agreement?”

“I suppose we do,” she said, her eyes widening. “Will you be in attendance at supper and sit by me?”

“We never agreed to where I would be placed.” He leaned in, rubbed his cheek against hers and whispered in her ear, “You want to barter for that as well?”

“You have a requirement for everything,” she said with a groan.

“And you are in my private chambers, even though you said that would not take place until one of us had capitulated and kissed the other. Are you ready to snap already? Did you come here for a kiss?” He blew across her ear.

“It will not be I that fails—but you.”

“And yet you plead for me to sit with you and dote on you and be at your table, at your side.” He stepped away and gave her a measured look.

“Never think I am here for you. It is always about the king and how to advance myself in his favor.”

His hand lashed out, and he gripped her wrist. “If that is the case, then you have no need of me.” His thumb stroked circles on her wrist. “You have a magic all your own and are most becoming in this color.”

“You like red?” Her voice shook again, though her face was impassive.

“On you—I think I shall like anything at all, but even more so, if your dress is puddled at your feet, good lady.”

Her breathing stopped, and she closed her eyes while her jaw tightened once more. “Why did I ever ask for your assistance? You are a fiend.”

“Yes—you have that effect on me.” His hand flew, and
swaaaat
!

His hand stung a little from smacking her right ass cheek.

“You dare to hit me?” Her eyes went dark and heavy.

“You deserved a spanking, little lavender. I would give you more, but it seems I am to go in search of fresh clothing so I will meet with your approval and become a worthy adversary of the king.”

She fought off a smile.

So, he did it again.

Swaaaat!

The opposite cheek was struck.

She went up on tiptoes and swayed in spot like she was drunk.

“Who needs a kiss when I have this?” He held up his palm in front of her face.

She moaned, and then out of nowhere, raised her hand as if she was going to strike him, but instead, she cupped the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers. Her breath pelted his mouth, and her lips were barely an inch away from his. “A brute? You think I am impressed by that? Apparently you have not seen how the king paws at my duckies and—”

“Oh God—he really calls your breasts that?” He rolled his eyes, and his teeth clacked together.

“Yes, he does. What do
you
call them?”

“Tits.” He ran a hand down the side of her right breast, ghosting over her ribs. “Beautiful, round, desirous tits—I would savor on my tongue, and
will
, the moment you come to my room again and kiss me.” She released the back of his neck.

“That will happen the day I spank you back.” She pursed her lips, pivoted on her right foot and approached the door.

In two long strides, he was up against her, trapping her at the door. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I will be there tonight—for you. Not for him. And I will touch you. If you do not want me to do that, then I will not be there.”

She sucked in some air, and her gaze went up to the ceiling.

“Lavender lady—do you want me there? Do you want me to touch you in front of the king and everyone else?”

She remained mute and stoic.

“When you make a decision, find me. I will await your answer.” He dropped his grip, releasing her chin.

“Yes, sir.”

“What was that? Are you saying I can touch you at dinner?”

“Yes, sir,” she repeated.

His groin tightened. She really was sweet and very beautiful, and her submissiveness came to her naturally when she wasn’t struggling to fit herself into a man’s world.

“I will protect you. I will be there for you, and Henry will not touch you while I am around. If I am to play with you, then you are mine. No one else’s. I do not share, Mistress Anne. So, when you are ready to take him as your lover, then you release me, and I will be gone from your life.”

She made a quiet whimpering noise, and her eyes twisted as if in pain.

“Look at me—eyes on mine,” he said.

Her gaze roamed to his.

“As your lord and sir, you will always wear your hair down like this when you are around me. I want it soft, straight and virginal—pure like you. I want you always smelling of lavender and finding some way to please me each day, even if it is something small.”

She sagged for a moment. Were her knees buckling on her?

He gripped her by the upper arms. “Follow these guidelines, and I am at your disposal. Any time you need me, you ask, and I will be there.”

Her lips drifted into a small, but sweet, smile. “Thank you, sir.”

“You are a naturally kind woman. Court life has hardened you—and I intend to undo that.”

Her face fell.

His hands on her arms loosened.