The Lethal Flame (Flame Series) (10 page)

With an unexpected shove Keri stumbled backward and lost her balance.  She fell flat on her back, the stones and twigs biting into her flesh.  Was it happening now?  She could think of numerous other places the moment could be better enjoyed.  He was on top of her.  Didn’t he have to at least remove his mail she wondered?  Then he grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her borrowed sandals off before hurling them in the fire.  They weren’t much for shoe ware especially for someone on the run.  But she had taken flight on the spur of the moment and not only was she exhausted and chilled to the bone, the sandals had rubbed the top of her feet raw and made the rest of her feet balls of aching agony.

Just as quickly as he knocked her to the ground Damien stood from her and backed away.  In a flash he remounted his gray horse before she could gain her feet.

“Since you thwart my authority as a knight in his majesty’s service I take you as my prisoner.  You are subject solely to me and as a prisoner you will only be allowed those things you earn.”

“Isn’t that a slave,” she asked defiantly forgetting until she crossed her arms over her naked chest that she was without a stitch of clothing on.  She wasn’t sure if she pulled off the look of an infuriated lady of noble birth but she tried with all her will.

“Slave, prisoner, at this point for you it does not matter,” he declared and his voice said plainly he was losing interest in the subject.

“You can’t do this,” she stated.

Damien smiled, that irksome smirk, and leaned forward in the saddle.  “What are you going to do about it?”

She bolted.  She wasn’t sure why she bolted she knew she had nowhere to go.  Then that blasted horse was there cutting off her escape route.  She darted to the side but again the animal was moved to block her with a laugh coming from the man on his back.  Rising to what she hoped to be a regal stance she glared at him.

“As much as I’m enjoying the bounce of your breasts and the glimpse between your legs I grow weary of this game.”

Keri’s mouth fell open in outrage but clamped it closed again when Damien arched a brow.  “Walk, that way,” he directed with a wave in the direction they had all come from.

Furious Keri started walking, her pace brisk and for a time she did not feel the twigs and stones cutting into her feet.  But only for a time.  She would be damned before she asked Damien to let her ride.  She walked throughout the night, her pride kept her going long after her feet didn’t want to.  She stumbled into the courtyard after the dawn of a new morning.  Anyone within sight stopped and stared at the filthy naked woman walking before the man that for the time being was as good as their lord.

Keri didn’t know how she managed to stay on her feet.  They were raw and bloody and pain throbbed through them, making each moment excruciating.  She managed to stay on them she thought proudly straightening to sneer at him before it changed to a glare as the man dismounted before her.  One of the stable boys came forward and took his horse. 

Damien came to stand before her and his gaze remained locked on hers.  She could feel herself shaking, she did not know if it was from the pain, the cold night, or her exhaustion but she couldn’t stop the tremors.  Then Damien smirked, and had she the strength she would have smacked it off his face.  He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over hers. 

“Sir Damien,” a voice said from behind her.  “I see why you failed to break your fast with us this morning.”  She heard a note of contempt in the man’s familiar voice. 

Keri took an involuntary step closer to Damien. 

“Perhaps I may be leaving just a tad too early,” the man declared. 
No, no, no,
her mind pleaded as she braced herself.

“You are leaving in just the appropriate amount of time,” Damien said curtly.  “Now if you’ll excuse me I have a prisoner to deal with.”

Damien none to gently grabbed her elbow and pushed her forward, his haste to get her away did nothing to help the pain but she had no choice but to walk, her journey she knew was near an end.  Instead of going toward the dungeon he hurried her into the hall and up the steps.  She looked franticly for her children or Bryce but saw no sign of them.  By the time he had entered the master chamber she was nearly blinded by the pain.  He shoved her into a corner and she fell on her knees.  Instantly she felt the shackle tightened around her ankle.  Sitting on her bottom she spun around looking down at the offending device.  It had to have been made just for her.  It was lined with soft leather so it would not cut into her skin but it was still a shackle.  The chain attached to it was long enough to give her mobility over nearly a quarter of the large chamber but it was still ultimately attached to the wall.   

Cyrille hurried into the room and his eyes immediately fell on her.  Through the hood she could not tell what the man was thinking, or if he was just enjoying the view as Damien seemed to be doing as he watched her.

“Did you explain we had a prisoner escape us?” Damien asked.

“I explain nothing,” was the sharp response to which Damien rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back on her. 

“Follow them and make sure they leave the area.”

Cyrille nodded but hesitated another moment and she suddenly felt as if the man was disappointed in her.  He left the room and Damien moved to the table just outside her reach and laid his sword on the table top then rested a hip against it, crossing his arms over his chest.  His cursed head cocked to the side. 

“What are you looking at?” she snapped after he studied her for a long time.

He arched a brow and sighed.  He dismissed her question, “As you can see you have nothing,” he emphasized this by gesturing around her. "You will have to earn everything you will ever have again.”

Her eyes narrowed on him but she remained quiet.

“To earn these things you have to do two things.  First you have to ask for it nicely and second you must be polite and helpful in order to earn it.  Do I make myself clear?”

She only glared at him which generated a sigh from him. 

“You can be earning a blanket for tonight by remaining quiet so I can get some sleep.”

“I will not,” she declared defiantly.  “As long as you keep me in this chain I will be as difficult as I can be.”

Damien laughed a laugh full of amusement.  “You are the prisoner and I assure you I can make your life far more difficult than you can make mine.”  With that he began removing his mail.

“Why don’t you just let me go?”

“Because you are my prisoner.”

“But you’ve let the other women go,” she argued.

He paused, “They didn’t wield a battle ax against me.”

“I wish I had taken your head from your shoulders you arrogant devil’s spawn,” she snarled at him defiantly.

With a great deal of satisfaction he stepped forward and grabbed his cloak, yanking it from her shoulders and the hands that gripped it together. 

“You are just going to leave me standing here naked?” Keri asked in astonishment.

“Standing, sitting, I don’t care, but naked you are and naked you will remain until you learn how to comport yourself befitting your new station in life.”

“I will not comport myself in any manner you wish.”

“Push me again and we will see what will become of those children of yours.  I think we will start with one, show you what can happen.  I have some depraved men serving my command, the things they would do to Waverly they would enjoy doing to your son as well.  I would bring his body to you to see because he would not survive it.”  Damien shrugged as if it was of no consequence to him, “He would for a while, and they would want him to survive for a while.”  He took a step closer, his eyes trailing the length of her then his cold gaze was on her, making her shiver.  “I would keep Waverly alive so we would still have one of your children to use as leverage against you.”  He sneered at her before turning away.  “Warrior though you are you have one very big weak spot.  I bet you would grovel at my feet for mercy to save Waverly.”

“I would never beg you for mercy because I know you do not have it.”

He turned to look at her, his cold gaze taking its time to study her before he raised his shoulders in a shrug.  “Mercy is a weakness.”

That was enough to quiet her for a moment.  She watched him go back to undressing and appreciated the grace of his movements.  She curled her knees to her chest crossing her ankles in an effort to cover and warm herself.

“What do you get out of this?” she asked finally breaking the silence.

“Peace of mind,” he quickly retorted.  Only in his braies he moved to the bed.

“No.  What do you get out of being the conqueror for your king?”  The chamber was filled with daylight now but tonight it would not be and she would have to endure the darkness, chained to the wall again.  She would have him in the room.  Would it make any difference? 

“Serving Richard is the key to the things I want.”

“A wife?” she quickly asked.

Damien paused with the covers lifted ready to crawl underneath.

“Perhaps,” he replied before settling under the covers. 

“What if he gives you me?”

His eyes shot to her.  “A bride should be a reward not a punishment.”  He settled back onto the pillows and a contented sigh escaped him.  “Now shut up or you’ll find out how cold that floor gets at night.”

Keri wanted to argue.  To rail against the man who controlled her.  Instead she turned and leaned against the wall, trying to control the tremors threatening to take her over.  Not because of the cold but what she feared the future would hold.

Chapter 6

Damien didn’t know how the lady could possibly be awake.  Watching her from beneath his lashes she looked exhausted.  Her face was pale, her doe eyes were bloodshot and as she sat in the corner her knees drawn to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs she looked defeated.  He watched her rest her chin on her knees and her eyes drifted closed.  Immediately her head shot up and she was looking toward the bed.  He didn’t have to be reminded a warrior never slept among the enemy.

Now that he had gotten a little sleep his first desire was to unshackle her and drag her into his bed.  Perhaps that way he could make her surrender.  But he didn’t do that to women, never had and never would.  Despite that she was an alluring representation of the female form, especially without a stitch of clothing on as she was now.

“Why are you looking at me?” she demanded irritably.

Her voice made him nearly jump out of his skin.  He stopped feigning sleep and opened his eyes.

“Because I’m not used to having a beautiful naked woman chained near my bed.”

“I would think a man like you would be used to such things.  Rape goes with pillaging does it not?”

Damien sat up in the massive bed throwing the cover off him.  “Have I raped you yet?” he asked stepping from the bed.

“No, but that does not mean you won’t,” she declared her chin rising defiantly, her anger sat sparks to dancing in her narrowed eyes. 

“I think,” he said strolling toward her.  “You would like the feel of another man.”  Damien stopped just outside her reach and leaned a hip onto the table.

Keri remained silent as she glared up at him.

“I think that is why you keep speaking of it.  You want it to happen.”

“You’re a pig,” she declared and he chuckled.

“Were you a virgin when you married Bryson?” he asked and he realized it was his desire to know not an attempt to aggravate her.

“That is none of your business.”

“I would be more than willing to show you the pleasure that can be found in my bed.  You only have to ask.”

“Go away,” she snapped imperialistically swiveling her head away dismissing him.

“But my Lady,” he said mockingly with a bow that had her glaring at him again.  “I have one wish to grant you for obeying me.”

He watched the woman before him try to jump to her feet but it was apparent they were far too sore and he saw swollen to allow her that small dignity.

“What would you want?   A blanket, clothes?”

“A candle,” she replied so quietly he nearly did not hear her.

“A candle?” he asked in surprise.

“Are you deaf?” she snapped.

“A candle it is,” he said studying her.  “You know if you wish to give me a try I would reward you handsomely.”

“The thought of you coming anywhere near me makes me sick,” she said with disdainful haughtiness.

“Suit yourself,” he said shrugging.  Reluctantly Damien turned away and grabbed a candle sitting on the table.  He tossed it to her, her reflexes quick she snatched it from the air and he was treated to the flash of her breast.  With a chuckle he strolled to the door.  Reaching it he turned to her, “It’s not going to keep you warm,” he said motioning to the candle in her hands.

“And God won’t save your damned soul,” she shot back.

~   ~   ~   ~

Waverly sat at the table in front of the dais.  She held a doll in her arm talking to it and offering it food.  Damien cocked his head and studied her, the gentleness she used and her poise.  Was she mimicking the treatment she had gotten as she grew?  He was certain she did not get her sweet demeanor from her father.  Who could use such a beautiful innocent creature for such a vile purpose?  At the least he was ridding the land of creatures such as Lord Bryson.

As it always seemed to do of late his mind wondered to the little girl’s mother.  How could a woman such as Keri be gentle and nurturing, she was such a contradiction to the stubborn warrior.   He wondered what that side of her was like.  Would anyone connected to the king ever be able to trust her?  That was a question he didn’t want to ask himself because he had a duty if that were the case.

Waverly swiveled her head looking for something.  He watched her as she searched the darkest corners of the hall, her eyes squinting in her quest to locate something or someone.  Cyrille?  Thoughts of everything else fled and his mind was back on his brother.  He straightened turned to Edwin and bid him to seek out Roland.

~   ~   ~   ~

The door to the chamber opened quietly and Keri was instantly awake.  Her eyes collided with those of Damien and she read something there for the briefest of time before it was concealed.  He turned away, pushing the door open wider he and Bryson wrestled a large tub into the chamber and over to within reach of her chain.  Apparently servants were not allowed in the room but sat the buckets of steaming water outside the door leaving Damien and his squire to bring them in and fill the tub.

Once the tub was filled Edwin left the chamber closing the door behind him.  Damien moved to prop his hip against the table, crossing his arms over his broad chest.  Keri was far too numb to care that this man watched her, it seemed the normal thing to do now.  Her muddled mind could barely remember a time she was not fighting against her fate, against being his captive.  She continued to stare at the floor and wondered how much more her body could take. 

“The bath comes with a price,” his deep voice informed her.

She could care less and wanted to tell him so but cared not to expend the energy. 

She heard him sigh.  “Our conversation earlier made me curious.”

“Do you call forc
ing me to listen to your drivel conversation?”

Again he sighed.  “This bath is yours if you’ll answer my question.”

She turned to look at him, curious and trepidatious at the same time.

“Did you ever find pleasure in your husband’s bed?”

Anger arose, he had no business asking her such a thing.  She shivered, the cold floor had long since seeped into her bones and made her stiff.  Keri glanced to the steaming water and knew her desire to fight him on his wish would be foolish.  It was a simple question after all.  A question that could only be answered one way from the first night he had climbed into her bed.  She had wondered if it was only because she was a virgin that she found no pleasure.  But night after night the answer had remained the same.  She had played the willing participant because wasn’t that her duty as she was taught from the cradle?  But long before she became pregnant with Kennet she knew she had lost the fight with not letting her husband repulse her.  How long it had taken for her to take a stand.  Her of all people.  But in all that time it had always been the same and she could only scoff at the idea of desire, until she laid eyes on Damien.

“No,” she said refusing to look at him.

“Now was that so difficult?” he asked but she didn’t hear the amusement in his voice she had expected.

She turned back to him, allowed her eyes to take him in, what harm could it do after all.  “You said I only had to answer one question,” she replied studying his body leaned against the table appearing to be relaxed but she knew he was not.  His strength could be unleashed in the blink of an eye, that knowledge made her eyes linger on him.

“So I did,” he replied a slight smile on his face as he pulled his sword and dagger from their sheaths and lay them on the table.  She watched his every movement and only did she recognize her folly when he came to crouch before her.  He was but a breath away, she could feel his warm strength and she had to fight its pull.  She must, if she were to keep her sanity she must fight what this man made her feel.  Was this really desire?  Perhaps it was only the respect she felt for the knight, she could deal with that emotion.  It didn’t mean she liked him, not at all.

“I am taking the shackle off but only so your wounds can be treated after the bath,” he said as if he was making a bold declaration of mercy.

The shank fell from her leg and her first instinct was to fight or flee him.  She had not the strength for either.  He reached for her but paused seeing the candle she gripped in her hands.  Had she held on to it this entire time, she wondered numbly?  It was her only lifeline to sanity for the night.  He gently removed it from her hands and sat it beside the wall, easily within reach of her chain.

He reached for her, an arm sliding under her bent knees, one behind her back and his power lifted her effortlessly.  She felt his heat, smelled his masculinity that was a mixture of horse, smoke and pure maleness.  She felt herself sink into his touch and she felt the urge to relinquish the deal on the bath if only he would hold her this way throughout the night.  If he was
this close she knew instinctively she would not need the candle for nothing would dare try to harm her with him near, not even her own nightmares.

She jerked her arms from around his neck, belatedly realizing he had already sat her in the tub and it was the heat of the water that had replaced his.  Did his arms linger a little longer than necessary as they pulled from behind her back and knees?  Goose bumps creped across her flesh as he withdrew, fingertips stroking as they left her.  Had that part been her imagination?

He moved away, going to a pile of cloths on a nearby trunk and retrieving the soap that had been placed there as well.  He came back and tossed the cloth and soap at her.  Now he seemed irritated which only fueled her own irritation.

He turned his back on her and she went about washing herself but her eyes rarely left the man moving about the room.  He laid a crude map on the table and seemed to be memorizing the features he found there.  Was it Featherstone or the next keep he was going to take over?  She studied him and wished fleetingly for his safety then cursed herself in her own head for her stupidity.  She turned back to her feet and washed them well despite the excruciating pain that shot up her legs at the slightest touch of the mangled flesh.

“What is that?” she finally asked as she settled back into the warm water. 

Gray-green eyes turned to her and he studied her, her arms propped on the side of the tub, her head resting on the rim, even the top of her breasts that rose above the water’s surface.  “It is the land around Haltwhistle.”

“Are you not to take any more keeps for your magnificent king?” she asked sarcasm dripping in her voice.

“I am to hold here for now,” he replied his eyes did not leave her and she suddenly grew uncomfortable.  He straightened from the map and walked to her, hesitating before stooping in front of her.

“Are you hungry?” he asked his eyes so intense she wanted to look away but could not even if her life depended on it.

She nodded, unable to find her tongue.  She gasped as he grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her close as his mouth crashed down on hers.  What was he doing?  Kissing was a vial act Bryson had taught her.  Lapping at her so hard she always felt as if he sought to lick her tonsils.  It did nothing but disgust her as he always left her with the taste of his foul breathe in her mouth.  She had immediately raised her arms to push him away but his strength was too great.

The panic inside her mind came to a screeching halt.  His lips moved over hers, she felt his strength even in his lips.  They weren’t soft and wet like Bryson’s always had been.  As they worked against hers, she felt the tip of his tongue rake across her lips before he sucked ever so gently on her bottom one.  A gasp escaped her before she could stop it and the small act gained him entrance.  His tongue caressed her top lip but it did nothing more than stroke the tip of her tongue before retreating.  He shifted his head a little to the side, repositioning their lips and his opened to lay claim to her, his heat searing hers, his tongue stroking brought on another gasp. 

Damien’s tongue stroked into her mouth more boldly this time and as he stroked her tongue she shifted and suddenly he sucked her tongue into his own mouth.  She could feel his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer and she did not resist.  Again he retreated and would have pulled away but her arms would not allow him.  When had she slipped her hands around the back of his neck?  She gave in to her urge and leaned into him, relinquishing herself to his lips, to the sensation that was building in her very core.  His hand tightened on the back of her head and he stole her very breath as he stormed her defenses again, a groan of regret escaped her as he pulled away.

He held her hands in his as he slipped from her grasp.  “Has any man ever made you feel like that?” he asked standing away from her.

Her brain was muddled in a haze of pleasure until he spoke.  Her eyebrows snapped together and she felt the fool for allowing a s
imple kiss to get past her defenses. 

He saw the storm coming for he held up a hand to stop the tirade that came tumbling forth.  “I already know the answer but expect an honest one from you.”

“Why do I have to tell you if you already know the answer in all your wisdom?” she spat at him disgust for herself coming out in her voice.

He lunged for her, grabbed her and drug her up, crushing her naked wet body against his hard clothed one and declared war on her mouth with his own.  His fire consumed her as he made it abundantly clear he had skills with his mouth she could never have imagined in all her days.  His lips alone wanted her to surrender, to beg him to take her to his bed and show her what other skills he could pleasure her with.  Before she could give herself over to him she bit down hard on his lip.  He was so surprised he shoved her and she fell backward, over the lip of the tub and tumbled out of it onto the stone floor.  Stunned brown eyes met stunned green ones.