The Promise (25 page)

“Yes?”

The single low word revealed the intensity of his attention and gave her the courage to continue.

“—to wrap my legs around you and lift up to meet your every thrust—”

He reached the bed and stood over her, his face etched with need. “And?”

“I want to taste you in my mouth, to have you here—” she lifted a trembling hand to her lips, “and here—” she moved her hand down to her woman’s mound.

He jerked her to him, his jaw clenched. His eyes burned like green fire; his breath came hard and fast.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as he had taught her, thrusting her tongue inside his mouth, swirling it, tasting him, rubbing her breasts against his naked chest, then separating her lips from his just enough to whisper, “I want to kiss you everywhere—”

“Alonsa, for God’s sake shut up,” he rasped, and followed her down onto the sheets.

He tried to place her beneath him, but she threw her leg over him and rolled so she lay on top.

He had wanted her to confess her desires, to show him how much she wanted him. Well, then, she would do it, and he would know her as a woman who could not be toyed with so easily. As a woman who would not be forgotten when she was forced to leave him behind.

He stared up at her from the embrace of the bed, his gaze speculative when she pushed his shoulders to the mattress. If he desired, he could overpower her; they both knew it. Instead, with a cocky grin, he allowed her to grasp his wrists and place his hands on either side of his head, the muscles in his arms bulging with the strength it took to hold a great sword—or a woman.

“No,” she admonished. “Tonight,
you
will submit to
me.”

His nostrils flared. “Then command me, and I will obey.”

She cocked her head, leaning over him to lick his nipple. It hardened in response to her wet touch, and he drew a sharp breath.

She lifted her head. “You swear it? You will allow me to do anything I desire?”

His eyes glowed, and he seemed to speak with great difficulty. “Anything, wife. There will be no boundaries tonight. Whatever you wish, whatever you desire, do to me.” He lifted one hand, trailed it across the plumpness of her breasts. “I am yours to employ as you will.” He stroked his hand down between their bodies, seeking her warmth. His fingers slipped into her heat. “Wring me dry. Leave nothing but an empty husk behind.” He stroked, and she rocked against his hard hand with a soft moan.
“Use me,”
he implored.

“
Sí
,” she whispered, and rode his fingers to a rolling climax. She hung her head over him, her back arched, her hands braced against his shoulders as the waves of pleasure moved through her. Finally, panting, she gazed at him and blinked the gathering wetness from her eyes. “You are mine for tonight. If only for tonight, you are
mine.”

The need to possess him consumed her, and pulling her chemise off, she slid down his body, her fingers touching every part of him, memorizing him, learning his desire. Where her hands went, her mouth followed, and she tasted the salt of his skin, smoothed the ridged textures of his stomach, fondled the velvet steel of his staff. “A mighty blade,” she murmured before she took him into her mouth, and he laughed quietly, the sound abruptly cut off by a muffled groan when she began to suckle firmly.

His hand went to her head and he threaded his fingers through her hair, gripping and guiding her motions. She had never done this for anyone, but she had glimpsed it done by the whores who trailed the baggage train and serviced the bachelor men. She did not know if doing it for Günter made her a whore, too; she only knew she must taste him for her own sake. She knew also he desired it when his hips lifted in rhythm to her sucking, when he groaned and shook and begged for more as she paused to catch her breath. She knew he called
her
name, no one else’s, and he would never forget this night as long as he lived.

She would ensure it.

She drove him to the edge, and when she knew he could bear no more, she lifted up and impaled herself on his strength, riding him until he pulled her beneath him and slammed her hips into the bed with his own again and again, bringing them both to a violent, raging release. She scored his back with her nails, wrapped her legs around his waist, and met his need with her own, taking, giving,
remembering
with her body what her heart could never possess. And after it was done, when he dropped into wordless sleep, his body splayed across the bed, one arm wrapped in ownership around her waist, she let her tears fall unhindered and sobbed quietly into the pillow while he slept on, oblivious.

While the night moved toward dawn, she roused him and took him again, pressed him down beneath her while he used his mouth in service to her and she rose above him as glorious and imperious as a goddess. As promised, she commanded his passion until, exhausted, they crawled beneath the blankets and slept.

When they had napped but an hour or two, he reached for her again and made hot love to her until the morning sun crested the golden hills above Federigo’s slumberous inn.

Tomorrow they made for Genoa, but for now, he was hers.

“W
ELL, THERE IT IS
,” G
üNTER MURMURED, STANDING
beside her as the ocean breeze teased Alonsa’s head scarf and a tendril of her hair escaped. “Genoa.”

She gazed at him. The wind lifted his hair from his broad forehead and laid it gently down again. Below their vantage point on the hillside, the ship port of Genoa teemed with activity. Redolent with the smell of the sea, it spread out in a vast maze of narrow streets and stinking canals.

“Yes,” she said, and avoided his penetrating gaze when he turned to her. Whenever she looked at him, she could think only of the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body pressed to hers, of the way he had taken her with ever deepening passion the night before. And how, with their arrival in Genoa, all of it must soon end.

She looked at Robert, who had dismounted beside them and thoughtfully stroked his horse’s muzzle before giving it a reassuring pat. Inés and Fritz chattered excitedly behind them, pointing out the tall ships and low barges competing for space in the narrow canals.

“So,
mes amis,
this is where we say farewell.” Robert faced their little group with a regretful air.

Alonsa wryly noted how Günter and Robert had become fast friends in the two days since they had decided not to cut each other to bits in front of the inn. Feeling indebted to Günter, Robert had insisted on accompanying them to Genoa to ensure their party’s safety. Günter had objected, of course, quite certain he could provide adequate protection for his wife and companions. Still, as Robert had pointed out, two swords were better than one.

Now Günter held out his hand. Robert took it.

“Take care on your return trip to … wherever it is you are going.” Günter’s mouth twitched as though he suppressed a grin.

Robert still had not seen fit to reveal any more of himself than his forename, but it was clear he had not come to the Italian city-states for pleasure, but for war. Still, for whatever reason, the two supposed enemies had decided to ignore their differing loyalties and become friends instead.

Alonsa supposed, in many ways, Robert reminded Günter of the friendship he missed after the death of Martin. The realization he might be lonely for his old friend had surprised and touched Alonsa, and she had not the heart to discourage it. Still, this friendship could not survive the gap in their stations. Robert must return to his life among the nobility, and Günter to his among soldiers.

She smiled when, ever the gentleman, Robert bowed over her hand before taking his leave of her.

“I regret our ways must now part. I must meet my man before returning to … my original destination. It has been my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He turned to Günter. “I will remain here for a day or two, should you need my assistance. I may be reached at the Inn of the Four Ships.”

Günter murmured a farewell, and after a brief goodbye to Fritz and Inés, Robert mounted his horse and rode away.

“Well.” Günter turned to face her. “I suppose we had better go see to booking your passage.”

His statement seemed almost a question to her.

The moment she had dreaded was upon them. She nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak. Günter’s jaw tightened, and he turned away. His movements abrupt, he mounted his horse and led the way down to the port.

They soon arrived at the edge of the wharf, and after consulting with the wharf master, Günter was able to get the names of three reputable captains of sailing vessels due to leave port for the Spanish trade routes with the next high tide.

It was not until Günter found an inn where they might wait out the negotiations for the passage that Inés, shamefaced, pulled her aside.

She took a deep breath.
“Señora,
forgive me, but I cannot go.”

“What?” Alonsa’s heart sank. She had counted on Inés’ companionship during the journey home. “Why not?”

Inés glanced at Fritz, who stood talking quietly with Günter nearby.

“I cannot leave him. He wishes to marry me, and I—I have agreed.”

Despite her sorrow at the loss of Inés’ companionship, Alonsa became overjoyed for her friend’s newfound happiness. She clasped Inés’ hands in hers.

“Oh, how wonderful! You belong together. It is obvious.”

Inés flushed but smiled. “Yes. Finally, I believe we do. However, he has sworn to stay at Günter’s side, at least until this campaign is over, and I must stay at his. Forgive me.”

Alonsa shook her head. “No forgiveness is needed. Of course you must stay with the man you love.”

Inés looked at her shrewdly. “And you,
Señora?
Will you stay with the man you love?”

Alonsa could not meet her eyes.

“You know that is not possible. To do so would condemn him to death.” Alonsa shook her head. “Sometimes I think he might be nearly in love with me already, but then … at other times, he does not behave like a man in love.” She shrugged. “Still, I will not stay with him, no matter what my heart wishes or dreams. It is over for us.” She blinked stinging tears from her eyes. “The only thing I can do for him now is to set him free.”

Inés stared at her. “How can you let evil conquer you in this way? How can you let it rule you?” She gripped Alonsa’s shoulders hard.
“Look at me.”

Alonsa faced her. Inés’ gaze burned into hers as she spoke.

“I have learned something. I have learned love is not a curse, but a blessing. It is a gift from God to be shared, however brief. Until you accept that, you will never be free of your fear.”

“But—”

“Just listen. If you give up this man, then that devil Miguel will have won.” Inés gazed over at Fritz, and turned her eyes back to Alonsa. “Perhaps, to truly defeat evil, we must choose to love in spite of it, in spite of fear, in spite of fate. Perhaps it is what God wants from you to break this curse forever. To trust
Him,
not Miguel. Trust Him, and choose to love and to be loved. Until you do, you might never be free of it.”

Fear and hope struggled within Alonsa at Inés’ words. She turned away. Could it be true? Was the choice as simple as that? And was she willing to risk Günter’s life to find out? Or did her desire to hold him rule her wisdom and prove her merely selfish and possessive?

Just then, Günter looked up, and their eyes met. All her love for him welled inside her, struggling to be free, to reach out to him and never let him go. Still a kernel of fear whispered in her heart:
You will condemn him.

Though she tried to root it out, it would not let go. And when she looked into Günter’s eyes, the whisper grew stronger and threatened to drown out her own thoughts.

What if she chose wrong? Could she bear being the instrument of this man’s death? He would die, someday—she knew that. Could she stand to be the cause?

No.
She could not. She quickly turned from him, a sob nearly escaping her throat. Inés watched her with disappointed eyes, and went to stand at Fritz’s side.

Günter came to her. She could feel his strong presence at her back. “Alonsa, what is it?”

She sniffed.
“Nada.
Something in my eye. Are we ready to meet the captains?”

He turned her to him and searched her face. “Nay, I’ll go alone. The wharf is no place for women to be wandering about this late in the evening. I’ll book passage for you on the next available ship.” He touched her cheek in a brief gesture and dropped his hand. “I’ll need to ask for the money you have set aside. I have enough for a bribe, if need be, but not enough for the passage itself.”

“
Sí
. I will get the coins out of the strongbox.” She did so, handing him the money pouch.

“Did you already know that Inés would not come?” she asked.

He nodded while he counted out the money and handed the pouch back. “I suspected as much. Fritz just confirmed it.” He ran a hand through his hair in consternation.

“It creates a dilemma. I do not feel comfortable sending you alone on such a voyage. Sailors are not known for their morals, paying customers or not, and a woman alone is considered fair game. I’ll see what I can arrange.”

He looked at her. “Will you be fine here while I am gone? I can leave Fritz with you.”

She nodded.

“Then I should go.”

She nodded her head again, afraid to speak.

He looked down the road, shifted his feet. “The sooner I book your passage, the sooner you can get home to your father. You will be safe there.”

Yet he delayed.

She put a hand on his arm, and he looked at her. “How did you know Inés would not leave Fritz?”

His eyes glittered green in the fading light of dusk while he stared at her. “Because she loves him.”

Did she hear an accusing note in his voice? What did he want from her? To offer to stay? How could it matter to him? He had implied she was only a haven for the moment, a warm plaything to kiss and caress and then put aside, fondly perhaps, but still put aside.