Vow of Seduction (4 page)

“Aye, Sir Luc is my lover. I am not ashamed to admit it. He is a magnificent lover. I revel in every moment spent in his bed.”

Alex dropped her arms as though stung. His face a mask of rage, he drew back his hand to slap her. She glared at him, daring him.

With a roar of outrage, he picked up the stool near his feet and smashed it against the wall. The legs shattered and, reflexes quick, Kat lunged aside as a sliver of wood bounced off the wall and nearly struck her in the head.

The ensuing silence was deafening. A spark popped in the fire, the orange glow illuminating Alex’s face. He looked appalled, drawn and disconsolate. She smiled, cold and defiant. Good. She meant to hurt him as he had hurt her. He deserved to suffer for a long time.

Alex, meanwhile, stared blindly into the fire, ashamed at his violent outburst. “Kat, I—” When he touched her cheek, she flinched, and he dropped his hand.

“Don’t touch me. I loathe you.” The venom in her voice left him in no doubt of that.

Alex collapsed wearily onto the cushioned settle, a long high-backed bench situated before the fire, and dropped his head into his hands. How suddenly the night had gone from bad to worse. Deep inside, he had hoped when he confronted her she would deny the accusation. But she proudly boasted of her adulterous actions without one bit of remorse.

Sad and defeated, Alex despaired. With sudden insight, he realized a secret part of him he never acknowledged had depended upon the constancy of Kat’s devotion. He felt lost without it now. “Why did you do it, Kat? Was this your way to punish me for leaving you?”

Kat’s laughter echoed scornfully. “What a conceited man you are, Alex. The fact is I do not give a damn about you. As to your question, I am an experienced woman now, you saw to that. You were dead. Luc and I desired one another, and we acted upon that desire.”

Alex rose lithely to his feet. He pulled her into his arms and forced her flush against his body. Her breasts cushioned against his chest, her scent enveloping him, she smelled like some exotic spice with a touch of the floral, jasmine, mayhap. He grew hard, his flesh rising against her softness. “As you can tell, I am not dead. Nor am I a complacent husband. From now on the only bed you will be sleeping in is mine.”

She pulled out of his arms, her eyes narrowed with contempt. “We may still be married, but I will never share your bed again.”

Then she spun on her heel and entered the bedchamber. Alex moved before the hearth to stare into the flames. He was deep in thought when she returned. In her arms were a straw mattress, woolen blankets, and a pillow.

“Here are some blankets. You may sleep in the antechamber until you find other accommodations tomorrow.”

Alex threaded his fingers through his hair, sweeping it off his forehead. “Answer me one question?”

She placed the bedding on the settle and nodded reluctantly.

“Rand mentioned that when I left to go on Crusade, people thought I had spurned you because you were not a virgin. I don’t understand. How could this be? The proof of your virginity was on our bridal sheets. I made sure our marriage could not be contested, knowing I would be away for some years.”

“You need not remind me of that night,” she choked out, bitterness tainting her words. “I remember how you forced me to consummate our marriage.”

Kat stood straight and proud as she glared at him, her stormy gray eyes condemning. She was beautiful in her wrath. Her clear smooth skin glimmered golden in the firelight. Her long, straight hair tumbled over her shoulders. Through the black silk screen, her breasts peeped out like twin melons, lushly abundant and full. He wanted nothing more than to pluck the sweet flesh to readiness, to suck and plunder her breasts with his lips and tongue.

“I may have tied you to the bed when you refused me, but there was no force involved. You climaxed sweetly in my arms several times that night.”

She raised her chin in defiance. “So that makes it all right? You know I wanted no part of a marriage based on duty.”

“Neither of us had a choice. I made a vow to honor and protect you and that meant a consummated marriage. And you swore an oath to your father before his death to marry me because he wanted to insure your protection from grasping usurpers.”

“That was before I realized you were the man I saw rutting with that slut Doris in the stables the day before our wedding.”

Alex gnashed his teeth in frustration. “Must we go over this again? Aye, I bedded Doris. But I had not seen you in three years, Kat, and—more to the point—you and I were not yet wed. I broke no vows to you.”

Kat scoffed. “And after we married? Surely you do not claim you have been a faithful husband these last six years.”

Red crept up his cheekbones, his voice gruff. “I have lain with no woman since the night we wed. No woman but you, that is.”

Her mouth dropped open. Then she snapped it shut and her eyes narrowed to disbelieving slits. “I don’t believe you.”

He stiffened. “Believe it or not. But it’s true.”

“Whether true or not, that does not absolve you of your actions that night. You tied me to the bed, by God—”

“After you nearly unmanned me! My duty aside, your father entrusted me with your welfare and so I took whatever means necessary to ensure your compliance.”

“How dare you! My father would never condone what you did.”

“Can you honestly tell me I harmed you in any manner, that you did not enjoy every moment of our joining? Because I remember vividly you writhing beneath me when you climaxed.”

Her eyes glowed with ire. “Enough. That is not the point—”

“Nay. There is no point in discussing this anymore, Kat, ’tis in the past and cannot be undone. And I no longer feel as I did then about our marriage. Now, will you tell me what happened after my departure?”

She looked away and stared into the flames, brooding. Alex went to the table.

He picked up Kat’s chalice, refilled it and poured another for himself. Then he returned to Kat and handed her the wine. She scrupulously avoided touching his hand and sat down on the cushioned settle.

Alex watched as she drank, her gaze never wavering from his. His wife had ever been challenging. She licked her lips before beginning. “When I woke to discover you had gone on Crusade, leaving only a note behind, in my anger I destroyed the evidence of my deflowering.” She shrugged nonchalantly as if to prove how indifferent she was to her actions now. “Had you not left, I never would have destroyed the bloodied sheet, it would have been hung for all to see, and my status as a chaste wife would have been confirmed.”

Her silver gaze glittered with contempt. “But when you scuttled away directly after the wedding and no proof of my virginity could be displayed, vile rumors started to spread. People claimed you discarded me because I was no virgin. Or worse, that you were so repulsed by me you could not bring yourself to consummate our union.”

Alex paced away. A sense of powerlessness, such that he had not felt since his imprisonment, rose up to choke him. He clutched the goblet until his knuckles whitened. Then he released a long shuddering breath. He had been a thoughtless fool. Not once had he ever considered how his hasty departure would be interpreted or that Kat would be harmed by such cruel speculation.

Kat had every right to be furious with him. Had he remained behind and not run away like a coward afraid of his burgeoning feelings, the rumors never would have been born. Though he took a healthy swig of his claret, it tasted as dry as dirt.

He spun around, placed the chalice on the small table by the hearth and knelt before Kat, taking her hands in his. The flames flickered across her face, the red glow highlighting her long slender nose and high cheekbones, her full blush lips. “Forsooth, I had no idea the damage my departure would inflict upon your reputation. I was selfish and thoughtless. But I swear to you that I shall do everything in my power to make up for the hurt I have caused you.”

Shivery heat shot up Kat’s arms.

Troubled, she jumped up and paced away. When he touched her, her body responded counter to her mind and heart. Kat momentarily forgot the heartache she had suffered because of his betrayal, and merely felt.

But passion alone did not make a marriage. She learned that lesson the painful way. Kat had loved him once, but his abandonment destroyed some vital essence of her being and crushed her dreams. She would not allow Alex to turn her into one of those pathetic women who pined away because they foolishly fell in love with a man incapable of loving them.

“You can no longer hurt me, Alex. Indeed, I want naught to do with you. This conversation is over. I bid you goodnight.”

As she entered the bedchamber, his voice reached out to her, soft though determined. “Sleep well, Kat.”

Alex moved to the table and refilled his chalice. He drank deeply until he drained the cup. Though Kat refused to share her bed, he had no intention of lodging anywhere else. Why give up such comfortable quarters? They were still man and wife and naught could change that. Besides, not to mention the gossip it would cause, how could he seduce his wife if they slept in distant chambers? But he had no desire to disabuse her of her assumption yet and argue with Kat again.

After Alex prepared his pallet by the fire, he stripped naked and slid beneath the blankets. He was so weary. All that had happened today was too overwhelming. Fear that he would arrive too late to stop the wedding was all that had kept him upright on his horse on the long journey. Then he turned into a rabid beast when he saw Kat and Luc standing so happy before the priest.

Alex’s head sank deep into the soft pillow, every ounce of his strength slowly ebbing away. The scent of lavender teased his nostrils. A long, deep groan of pleasure erupted from his chest. He had not felt this clean and comfortable in six miserable years. Since he had left Kat in June, the year of our Lord twelve hundred and seventy.

After leaving Kat, Alex had gathered his troops and made his way to Portsmouth, where Edward’s fleet was preparing to set sail for France. Edward’s departure was delayed, but on the twentieth of August the English crusaders crossed to France, traveled inland down to the Mediterranean seaport of Aigues-Mortes, and then sailed for Tunis. There Edward was to meet up with another crusader force led by King Louis of France. But when Edward arrived in North Africa, Louis was dead, struck down by disease that had spread rampantly through the crusader ranks in Tunis.

At this turn of events, France pulled out, but Edward was determined to carry on. Finally, in the spring of the next year, Edward and a thousand crusaders landed in Acre. The fighting, little more than raids and counter raids, lasted for about a year and achieved no major victories. When King Hugh, nominal king of Jerusalem, signed a treaty with the Mamluk Sultan, Baybars, ending hostilities for ten years and ten months, Lord Edward was appalled. But there was little he could do with so few troops at his disposal.

Before returning to England, Edward had sent Alex with a small contingent of men on an embassy to Tripoli. They made camp at a watering hole on the second night of their journey, and it was there Alex was ambushed. He had been unprepared, restless and preoccupied with thoughts of Kat, measuring the time until he could hold her again.

It seemed little had changed, he thought in frustration. Alex shoved the heels of his hands against his eyes as images of Kat entwined naked with Luc tortured him. He swore he would obliterate every memory she ever had of the man, no matter the cost to his soul.

She is mine.

Naught could keep him from the peace and devotion he desperately craved. With Kat he had felt alive and challenged, yet humbled by her unswerving devotion. But he had discovered the truth only after he deserted her. And with that single, despicable, self-absorbed act he would regret for the rest of his life, he had destroyed any feelings she had for him.

Sighing in misery, Alex turned on his side and pulled his blanket up. Mayhap by the morrow, a plan would have come to him on how to go about wooing his wife, to convince her to give him a second chance. But what if he could not persuade her? Suddenly, the sensation of drowning was overwhelming. Sinking deeper and deeper, he gasped for breath. Perspiration broke out on his temples.

If he did not win Kat, he would slowly be deprived of air until he was well and dead. Leaving him prey to the demons that haunted his dreams.

A fierce cry startled Kat from a deep sleep. Drowsy and disoriented, she sat up and blindly reached for the dagger under her pillow. Her hair tumbled over her face. She shoved it back and stared into the darkness. The guttural cry came again from the antechamber, followed by the hissing sound of a steel sword being withdrawn from its scabbard.

That was when she suddenly remembered Alex was sleeping in the other room. Or had been sleeping. Kat pulled the blankets up to her neck, wondering what Alex could possibly be doing when all honest men were fast asleep? She wiggled her toes, and jiggled her legs, but unable to contain her curiosity, she pulled the bedclothes aside and slid off the bed. She crept quietly to the curtained archway and peered into the other room.

Kat gasped. Alex knelt completely unclothed amid his disheveled pallet brandishing his drawn sword. The fire shimmered golden light over his smooth muscular chest and the indentions down his taut stomach. His powerful hips and thighs flexed as he got to his feet. Unable to keep her eyes from going to his groin, she stared wide-eyed, then flushing with embarrassment, quickly raised her gaze back to his face.

But he was not looking at her. His eyes were oddly vacant, even as they darted around the room as if he expected an attack from imaginary foes.

“Alex, what are you doing?”

When he did not respond, Kat slowly approached him. “Alex,” she said more loudly, sternly.

Alex turned towards her with his sword extended. She jumped back when the tip nearly sliced her stomach, her heart leaping into her throat. “Don’t come any closer,” he swore, his voice sounding as though slurred with sleep. “I demand you release me. I have told you numerous times I have the means to pay ransom.”

Shock held her immobile as she tried to make sense of his strange behavior. Obviously he was not cognizant. He was trapped in a nightmare that held him as surely as the Saracen fortress once had. She wondered what had happened to Alex that he would be reduced to fighting demons in his sleep?

Her heart contracted at his fear. But Alex was a proud man and would despise her pity.

Desperate to do something to wake him, she ran back to her room. When she returned, she tossed the water in her basin at his head. It was a direct hit. Alex roared in outrage, shaking his doused head. Kat gasped as water splattered her thin chemise and face.

He took a menacing step towards her, his furious gaze raking her face. “What the hell did you do that for, Kat?”

“I had to do something to wake you.” She motioned vaguely to his bared body, the sword dangling in his hand. Her gaze purposely avoided his groin area.

Frowning, he looked down. “Jesu,” he swore. His sword clattered to the floor. He raised his gaze to her, fear replacing his anger. “My God, Kat. Did I hurt you?” He stepped forward with his arms outstretched, then jerked to a halt. A shutter fell over his eyes and his arms dropped to his side.

Kat sat the basin down on the small table by the fire. “I am fine, Alex. But I’m concerned about you. What just happened here?”

Not looking at her, Alex shrugged. “’Twas naught but a waking dream,” he said, his voice gruff. “I had too much wine after little sleep. You need not be worried.”

Then Alex’s gaze moved to her breasts. His eyes darkened. Midnight flame engulfed her. “Mayhap I spoke too soon,” his voice a hoarse caress.

Kat followed his gaze. Gilded by the firelight, the dark crests of her breasts were visible through the flimsy fabric. She swore and crossed her arms over her chest.

Alex moved her arms down. “You have beautiful breasts, Kat. You need not shield them from me.”

Disgusted that he would turn her concern into something lurid, Kat turned her back on him and moved towards her chamber. “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

“Is that an invitation?” his voice wickedly amused.

At the threshold, she turned around and glared at him. Dark and ruggedly handsome, he stood naked and bold as Adam, the flesh between his legs stiff and stretching skyward. He was a large man; his tumescent shaft, long and thick, sprouted from a nest of curly black hair. Her stomach quivered in primal reaction, but she ignored it.

“Don’t hold your breath or you will choke on it.” Then she yanked the curtain closed on his grinning face.

Stomping to her chest, Kat tugged her wet chemise off over her head and tossed it to the floor. She found a clean, dry chemise and changed into it. Normally she slept bare, however, while Alex resided in the next room, she felt more comfortable sleeping in a shift. She knew it was a rather flimsy shield, but protecting herself came naturally to her. Her instincts warned that Alex would be ruthless in his pursuit of her.

Kat crawled back into bed and was surprised when she heard the outer portal open and then shut. When she went to peer into the antechamber, Alex was gone. No longer tired, she pulled on her chamber robe and moved to the window alcove overlooking a small private garden, wondering what Alex meant to do at this time of night. Then she inwardly berated herself for even caring. The man betrayed her, humiliated her, and rejected the only thing that she as a woman was truly free to gift a man. Her heart.

What did she care where he went or slept? Or with whom he slept? The notion that Alex remained celibate these last six years was laughable. His prowess with women was as renowned as his skills on the battlefield.

Kat curled up on the cushioned window seat, opened the shutters and looked up at the midnight sky. A soft breeze blew; wisps of hair hanging loose from her braid fluttered and caressed her cheeks. The deep blue of the night was the exact same hue of Alex’s eyes when they darkened with lust. She recalled the way he had stared at her breasts, his desire unconcealed.

Desire, not love, she hastened to remind herself. To believe otherwise would be foolhardy. His betrayal still seethed in the deepest, darkest corner of her heart, buried with all the pain and humiliation she experienced when Alex rejected her love.

Still, she remembered his earlier tormented words.
I know I have hurt you terribly, Kat…But I have suffered, too. Whether you believe it or not, I spent four agonizing years in prison dreaming about you
. Indeed, he had suffered. When Alex was held in the grip of his nightmare, Kat had seen the welts caused by severe whippings crisscrossing his back. Scars she knew he did not carry on their wedding night. Nor could she forget the pain etched on his face when he thought he was back in his captor’s hands.

Now he had returned to claim her. But no matter his internal and external wounds, she could not weaken.

When Alex deserted her, she vowed to keep what remained of her heart inviolate. If she relented and accepted him into her bed, eventually he would become bored with her. He would discard her again without a thought. Nay. She tugged her robe tighter around her. Love was a weakness Alex would manipulate to his satisfaction and that way lay destruction. She would never survive the pain of betrayal a second time.

A sound in the garden below caught her attention. Peering out the window, she looked down. Moonlight shown on a bare patch of grass and revealed a man clutching his sword with both hands. Kat frowned. Alex swung his sword madly at invisible foes, chasing away the night creatures that rustled in the darkened sanctuary.

Exhausted and sweaty, Alex quietly entered the antechamber. It was not yet dawn and he did not want to wake Kat and burden her with his darkness anymore than he had. He was ashamed of his weakness. And he had nearly endangered Kat because of it. Only once before did he wake in such a state—mostly his demons were harmless to none but him. It was the blasted wine. In future he would have to be more careful. This time he’d deftly distracted Kat from asking more prying questions.

Alex tugged his tunic and sherte off. With his linen sherte he wiped the sweat from his face and chest. Some good came from his exertions, though. While exorcizing his demons in the garden with mindless physical activity, it freed up his thoughts to work out a solution to his dilemma.

Six years ago, he acted selfishly by not telling Kat of his plans to go on Crusade. She was his wife and had had a right to know of his decision. Though he could not have forsaken his vow to take up the cross, he could have given her a choice to accompany him to the Holy Land or stay behind at Montclair.

In order to redeem his selfish act, he must make a huge sacrifice in exchange. And in the process he could regain a measure of control. This time Kat would have a choice. It was a risky proposition, but naught worth having should come without struggle, lest a man not appreciate what he had until he lost it. Unfortunately, he learned that lesson too late.