Chapter Sixteen
They stood in the alcove by the stairs. Not exactly private, but better. It was quiet enough for him to share his words, to make her understand.
She was angry now, and should be. But he still had her love—he felt it in every part of his body, in his own soul. So precious to him—though he had almost lost it.
He knew the moment he told her the truth he would lose it. He was a traitor and without honour. It didn’t matter why he had done it. That was a mere excuse.
He would tell her, and she would do what must be done. She would need to go to the King and tell him who carried the Half-Thistle Seal. She had to protect her family, to protect herself.
He would go to the guillotine. His only hope was that she could protect Robert.
‘You have got me here,’ she said, gesturing around to the shadows. ‘So tell me.’
‘I’m a spy.’
‘You’ve already told me that.’
‘But not this.’
He took her hand and placed the Half-Thistle Seal in it. Watched her hand shake before she clenched it and hid it in her skirts.
He took heart in the fact that she hid it. There was still a part of him that had believed she would loudly proclaim his crime and he would be hauled away before he could give an explanation. He deserved it after his cruel words during the storm.
‘This can’t be,’ she whispered, her eyes darting around.
‘It is.’
She took a breath. ‘Not here, then. Follow me.’
He took comfort in her request, too. As Alice darted around the corner and went up a private staircase. Down a long corridor, her steps ever faster, his own following close. He was trying to quell his heart from gaining any hope. Her wanting privacy only meant that she would listen to him. Nothing more.
They entered a room. He saw a bed, a fire banked low. The room was dark, but he saw the vague outline of soft furnishings without any frills.
‘Your bedroom?’ he whispered.
‘It’s the only place I can guarantee privacy.’
‘But it’s too private. I could kill you here.’
‘You could have killed me without showing me the Seal.’ She turned it in her hands. ‘It’s been yours all this time?’
‘Weren’t you curious when you couldn’t find it? I made sure you couldn’t find it.’
She shook her head. ‘This makes no sense.’
‘Why? Because of the boy I was when I left here? It’s true that he saw only right and wrong, but so much has happened since then. I told you that you didn’t know me, that the present was full of lies and deceit. This is what I meant. This is why there are barriers between us.’
‘Why would you tell me this?’
‘Because I didn’t want you to keep looking. To keep risking your reputation or being forced to marry Lyman because he’d caught you in a compromising position. Or worse, going empty handed to the King.’
‘You told me to keep me safe?’
‘I also told you I’d help you. Foolishly, I thought I could come up with a plan not to reveal the Seal and also to keep you safe, but I couldn’t.’
‘So you have told me even though you are now...not safe?’
He nodded.
Hugh. A traitor.
She had orders from the King to find this man, to report him. If she did, Hugh would hang.
That was what justice would be. She would be righting a wrong. Except it didn’t feel right. Hugh knew she’d have to report to the King and had told her anyway.
He wasn’t denying anything now, but telling her everything. About them, about his secrets, and all of it could be the death of him. Still, he did it.
He was keeping her safe. It was what he did with those he cared for. Loved. Hugh loved her. She knew the calibre of man he must be. He was proving it now. And then she had her certainty.
Who else in Hugh’s life would he want to keep safe?
‘It was all for Robert, wasn’t it?’
He stilled; his heart hammered. ‘What was for Robert?’
‘You have no family to protect. And you respect the King. I can hear it in your voice when you talk about him. This Half-Thistle Seal and the messages it marks has something to do with Robert.’
‘Robert’s dead. I told you that.’
Her brows furrowed then, and there was a moment of hesitation. He wanted her to keep that doubt.
‘Then it’s for his family.’
‘Robert’s mother and father are also dead.’
‘Did he have a wife?’
‘Alice, stop asking questions.’
‘You had to know I would ask.’
‘No, I expected you to—
‘Run screaming and report you to the magistrate?’ She shook her head. ‘I might, because you’re still hiding something from me.’
‘I’m a traitor—what more do you want to know? Why I did this? A traitor is without honour, Alice. Reasons and excuses have no place. They don’t matter.’
‘They do. Reasons always matter.’
‘Actions do—and mine are full of lies and deceit.’
‘If you are a liar and a thief and full of deceit, you would have continued to be. After the storms were over, after this winter, you would have left Swaffham and never returned. And yet you say you have told me because you didn’t want me in a compromising position? What kind of declaration is that? You told me because you have feelings for me. You love me.’
He did, and his heart burst with it. He wanted to shout with joy at the happiness it brought him. Instead he fought it. But with Alice in front of him demanding answers, demanding him, he knew it was a losing battle. Though he could no longer deny it to himself, telling her would gain nothing. There was only one resolution to this, and declaring love for her was not it.
‘And if I do, what does it matter? The facts remain the same. I’m still a traitor.’
‘As I said, reasons matter. You’re telling me this because you’re trying to save me. You’re trying to save me like you did that day at the well. You beat those boys to get to me. There were three of them. Three. They could have killed you. Thrown you down the well and snapped your neck. You did it anyway, because the reason behind it was your feelings for me.’
‘They were tormenters and they deserved it.’
‘They deserved it long before then. I saw them taunting you about your father and you never lashed out at them. You only did it that day to save me. And now you’re trying to save me again.’
‘That’s—’
‘I’m not listening any more about why you told me. The issue is why you began sharing the King’s secrets in the first place. You would only go to such extremes to save someone, and I have to know who.’
She couldn’t guess. She had to not guess or he’d break his vow. It was the only remnant of honour left in him.
‘Don’t, Alice.’
‘Don’t say any more or don’t guess?’ she said. ‘Is it a woman? Are you...have you married and not told me? Is that what all this has been about?’
The very idea—after what he felt for her? ‘God. No.’
Then he knew he had failed. A moment unhinged and two revealing words had slipped out.
‘Then there’s only one other you care for,’ she whispered.
He looked away from her then; waited for the truth to be told through her.
‘Robert’s not dead, is he? William talked of how they never found his body; the Scots never sent his head to King Edward like they promised. Robert’s alive and you’re protecting him.’
A ragged sigh. Defeated. He was always defeated when it came to her. But maybe if he wasn’t clumsy he could make her understand and Robert could still be kept hidden.
She’d be lying to the King, and her honour would be blackened like his own. But Robert would live and so would she. Maybe if he told her everything she would fully appreciate why he did it and why he still had to die.
‘He’s alive. He’s alive and married to a Scot.’
Alice gasped.
‘So now you see why I had to keep this secret. They met...’ Rueful, he shook his head. ‘If so light of a word could be applied to them, they met when Robert investigated the massacre at Doonhill. Gaira and four children were still alive and surviving there. Scottish children, whose families had died at the hands of the English. He took them under his care, and along the way...’ He shrugged.
‘Where were you?’
‘I had followed Robert to Clan Colquhoun land, intending to rescue him, only to discover he wanted to stay. To marry. He was happy.’
‘And you couldn’t take that away from him?’
‘Never. But to ensure he kept that happiness he needed to be dead. So I showed Edward Robert’s ring he gave him, and detailed the devastation of Doonhill. I let him come to his own conclusions.’
‘And the Seal?’
‘I gained Edward’s trust that day, and I have been spying for him ever since. Inevitably, I was given secrets that would affect the Clan Colquhoun. I had the Half-Thistle Seal made to send a warning message to Robert.’
‘So the Half-Thistle Seal is only between you and Robert?’ At his nod, she continued. ‘And you doubt your honour?’
‘I’m lying to the King and will continue lying to the King.’
‘For love.’
‘For...friendship. I gave my word to him.’
‘You love him. You told William you fought by his side for years.’
‘I did. He lost someone very dear to him, and he left everything behind to fight by Edward’s side, and I fought with him. But we met long before that.’
‘When?’
‘After my father died, I had enough coin to buy myself into Edward’s Court, but rumours of my father followed me. As a result, I suffered at the hands of men like Allen—except these were well trained men with swords. Robert arrived when I could no longer defend myself. He didn’t say a word, or show his sword. He simply stood there and they all stopped. I immediately knew who he was. He’d already earned his spurs and a property. Can you imagine what I felt that day? I was poor, couldn’t fight properly, and Robert, who was almost a legend, saw me at my worst.’
‘How many beat you?’
‘I think four took me down and others followed. It felt like there were others.’ Hugh shook his head. ‘I was poor. Disadvantaged. I had dreams of making my mark by defeating all of them. But Robert gave them one quelling look and I realised that whatever skill he acquired, I wanted to learn it as well. I was his shadow after that, and he let me be. Along the way he told me he knew of my father, and then he told me of his.’
Hugh turned to see Alice’s steady grey gaze. So warm, but determined.
‘I know that look,’ Hugh said. ‘You’re intending to fix me. This isn’t a project. There’s nothing to repair.’
She threw up her hands. ‘Of course there’s something to repair. You have confided a great secret to me. I understand now.’
‘What do you understand?’
‘You did it for love. You’re not a traitor—you’re a man who protects. Who gave a vow to his friend and has been honouring it ever since, even at the expense of his own life.’
‘You don’t understand at all. The facts remain the same. I have been giving information to the Scots. No matter the reasons, my actions make me guilty.’
Every word hit her as truth. It was how the King would see it. He’d told her that himself. That he didn’t care for individuals, only for kingdoms. He’d given her a hunting horn to solidify his position.
Her heart hammering, she knew she had to think this through. Had to...fix this somehow. There had been wrongs committed here, but there was no justice if Hugh hung for it.
‘I’m a dead man, Alice, and have been since I made that promise. I only solidified it when I began releasing information.’
Then she saw a way. She went to the box next to her bed, placed the Seal inside and locked it. ‘Only if the King knows about it. He doesn’t need to find out. You can go on protecting Robert and his family. You’re only giving him information to protect the clan, right? Then it’s fine. It’ll be fine.’
He shook his head slowly, his eyes wide with her actions, with all the storms in all the land. ‘It’s not fine. The King will know because you’ll tell him.’
‘Never!’
‘You must.’
She gasped. ‘How could you think I would? Even if I didn’t know you, you have told me of Robert’s family, and of how he saved those children. You know how important family is to me. I’d never betray them to—’
Two strides and he was gripping her arms. ‘Yes, you will! Otherwise Edward will only send more spies here—or, worse, simply lock you in the Tower and torture you until you confess. Your wealth won’t protect you because you are not nobility. You wouldn’t have the same comforts as a nobleman waiting for the guillotine, and the King would gladly take your family’s coin.’
‘Then I’ll lie—like you do.’
‘You’re terrible at it. It took me no time at all to realise what you were doing, and I would have realised sooner if I hadn’t been blinded by my past when it came to you. You could never pull it off.’
She lifted her chin, her eyes watering.
‘It’s not your fault you can’t do it well. That’s only because you’re good. You’re good!’
‘And someone...good...would kill you and an innocent family?’
‘Damn him!’ Hugh wanted to roar, but the silence of the room and the situation demanded silence.
So he swallowed his raging emotions, tried to calm his tumultuous heart.
‘You say I love Edward, and that I respect him. But you need to know how close I am to hating him now, simply for asking you to spy for him. The moment Edward asked you, he made you and your family a target. He put you in jeopardy.’
But the King didn’t care for individuals. He didn’t care for her life. The King had asked her to serve, and she’d meant to. She’d truly meant to, but now...
‘So I’m in jeopardy like you.’
‘More than that—you’ve marred your kindness and your decency. All are blackened because of lies and deceit. I never wanted that for you.’
‘And yet still you’re loyal to him?’
He laughed. ‘See how twisted it is? I’m trying to be loyal and protect all of you. There’s no resolution to it.’
She could see his loyalty. She had seen that when he was a mere child, doing all he could to protect his father.
Again, she wanted to ease his pain. ‘Edward didn’t mean to put me in jeopardy. It was an accident. I’m the one who happened to win a seal in that game.’
‘You think it was an accident? With you and me both from Swaffham? What he had to do to manipulate the game, I don’t know. But it’s too much of a coincidence.’
She gasped. ‘You think he suspects you?’
‘I can’t rule it out. Not when he gave you and I the same task to fulfil.’
A cunning ruler. Intelligent and ruthless; arranging things to ensure she found a seal first. How he must have worried when it had taken her so long. But the King didn’t know of her fear of the dark.
He did, however, know how to make her co-operate. ‘He threatened my family, Hugh. I would do anything for them because I love them. I would do anything for you because—’
‘Don’t say it.’
‘I love you. Always have—’
‘A childish vow, and it has no place here now.’
It was something she had heard all her life. ‘Did you see it that way? My vow to marry you? Did you take it as something childish?’
He stepped away from her then. And another step. ‘How could I ever see your vow as something childish? As merely a whim? If it was, I had the same one. If I had been worthy of you I would have said it myself.’
Happiness. It could only be happiness flooding her fast and making her strong. She wanted to run to him.
‘Back then you would have said it?’
‘Then, and always.’
Her lips curved. ‘But I was a child.’
‘Even so...even then. I was an outcast, and because of it I could see how fiercely protective you were with your family. How you took animals in to shelter them.’
‘I don’t remember...’
‘How could you not, when your arms were full of the puppies you kept dropping?’
She laughed. Despite everything, she laughed. ‘Then why...why did you reject me that day?’
‘Haven’t we gone over this enough? I wasn’t worthy of you.’
‘But I told you—you were. I’ve explained it.’
‘I appreciate that now. I didn’t then. But it doesn’t matter.’
Of course it did, it had to. The room was dim, almost black, but she saw it in his eyes. That never ceasing storm.
‘I still have to die, Alice.’
She felt terror at the mere words. ‘No, you don’t. I won’t let you.’
‘This isn’t something you can fix. Your family is in danger. It is better my life than—’
She rushed to him, placed her hands upon his chest. Felt his heart beating as hard as her own. ‘No!’
‘It’s the only way to fix it. Don’t you think I’ve tried to find another way? Since Lyman’s party, that’s all I’ve been doing. But there isn’t. I have to save your family and save you.’
‘I couldn’t bear it.’
‘Let me,’ he said softly, solemnly. ‘Let me bear it.’
Tears ran down her face and he brushed them away. Kissed her forehead, her cheeks, kissed along her jawline before pulling away.
She put her hand against his face, held it there. The room’s shadows were making it hard to see him fully.
‘It’s dark in here,’ he whispered.
‘Yes.’ She could barely see him. But she felt his gaze all the same. Felt the heat of his skin and knew it flushed his cheeks.
‘I didn’t realise... Is it too much?’ he asked.
She was overwhelmed with what she felt. ‘Yes.’
His hands loosened.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Finding a candle. The dark...’
And then she understood. Even now he thought of her fear; she hadn’t given it a thought. ‘I’m not afraid. I can’t be—not with you here.’
‘Alice.’ He bent his head and kissed her cheek, her temple.
She felt the warmth of his breath, the heat of his body.
‘You told me to see the light in the dark.’ She wrapped her arms around him. Held him tightly. ‘This is the light in our dark.’
She lifted herself to kiss his jaw, his cheek. Felt the scratch of his beard, the heat of his skin. It was Hugh she touched, whom she brushed her kisses against.
‘This moment is for us. This is our light.’
Upon a groan he captured her lips with his. His mouth slanting, parting her lips, tasting her. Brutal. Claiming. Her hand twined around his neck, pulling him closer even as he pulled away. She locked her fingers into his tunic.
‘Alice...’ he said in warning, his breath hot against her skin.
‘Please, Hugh.’
‘Not like this. Not when I know—’
‘This may be all we have.’
A sound choked out of him. ‘There’s a fire over there—let me make the flames higher.’
She didn’t want to let him go. She moved the only thing she could—her lips, her breath. Her heart thumped against his.
‘I don’t need to see you,’ she said.
A sound of disgruntlement or a sound of approval as she continued her kisses, as she caressed and stroked along the cords of his neck, the blades of his shoulders.
‘I want to see you.’ The darkness of the room heightened his voice, heightened the raw emotion there.
She’d let him go and he’d leave. She knew it.
‘Not yet,’ she whispered.
She skimmed her palms along his face, her fingers clumsily caressing the soft wet heat of his lips. When they had pressed against hers they had felt firm with intent, with purpose. She wanted that purpose and intent again, but he was holding himself away from her even as her thumb caressed the fullness of his bottom lip. More touches along his jaw, below the curve of his ears...
‘Don’t make us wait, Hugh. Not any more. I won’t have it.’
She felt the tension in him increase, felt his control burn hotter. ‘But here, Alice? Now? There is so much more for you.’
‘Shh...’ she said, pressing against him until his body shuddered. ‘There’s no more than this.’
‘Is it enough?’ He clenched her tighter, closer, dipped his head. His lips hovering over hers until they shared breath.
She didn’t need her eyes to know that this was real. He was real. Here...holding her. She’d seen him enough in her dreams, but never to touch. Their touch was the truth for her.
‘Is it enough?’ he repeated.
‘This is all that matters.’
He lifted her, and his lips captured hers. Not in desperation, but in a slanting of lips, of effortlessly pressed desire. And she felt everything between them, waiting for them both.
This kiss was what she had dreamed all kisses with him to be. A slow, achingly slumberous heat, with those threads she imagined tethering him to her, weaving throughout her, making some pattern she didn’t recognise, but followed.
Followed the stroke of his hands, the tilt of his head as he kissed along the curve of her jaw, along the downward slope of her neck until he reached the restrictions of her gown.
But he wasn’t deterred. He loosened his hold on her, and she slid slowly down. So similar to that day at Court. When in her hurry, in her fear, she had slammed into him. But this time she wasn’t buried under acres of courtly dress. He wasn’t covered in lethal chainmail.
It was only him, Hugh, who kept his grip against her skirt as she slid, and rucked it to her hips. She felt the cool air, the heat of his hands on her outer thighs.
‘Lean against me,’ he said, his voice roughened.
It sent shivers through her just as much as his bare hands on her thighs.
Holding her still, he let the heat and something else soak deep within her. Something much warmer that spun fast through her body.
Desire. Need. Want.
She leaned against him, his body and his arms fully supporting her. His hands raised her skirts a little more as she dropped and his fingers spread, his hands encircling the backs of her thighs.
He stroked her until she entwined her hands around his neck and he carried her to the bed.
She lay there while he stood. He wasn’t leaving, but he wasn’t satisfied either.
‘Hugh...?’
‘You might not mind the dark any more, but I can barely see you.’
So stubborn. So relentless. But that was what drew her to him. ‘Light a candle, then.’
A low chuckle. ‘It’s dark! And, as much as I have dreamed of being in this room, I don’t know it.’
‘On the table there.’ She pointed.
He turned then, lit the candle. Walked to the fire to increase that as well, until the flames danced light into the room.
Then he stood there, with the fire illuminating him. An errant lock of blond hair across his forehead, his blue eyes dark.
‘You’re still dressed,’ he said.
‘You laid me on this bed fully clothed.’ She threw her hands over her head, watched his body go rigid.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said, and there was a light in his voice to match the flames behind him.
‘Does this have to do with the room being well lit?’
‘Not lit enough; I need to see more.’ He crossed his arms, leaned a shoulder against the wall. ‘Take off your clothes.’
An order. There was a lightness to his tone, but his voice was low, raspy, as if the very idea of what he’d said burned through him.
It did burn through her. In all the times she had imagined this, she had never imagined them like this. Because being apart meant they’d changed. Grown stronger.
Sitting up, she leaned her weight on one arm and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed.
Like this, she could see the frayed threads in his composure. His need just underneath. From the way each breath looked purposefully drawn to his unflinching gaze as if he’d forgotten to blink.
‘Alice? Your clothes.’
‘I will, if you take yours off as well.’
He arched a brow, as if he was amused, but his fingers flexing restlessly along his crossed arms told another story.
‘Are you...commanding me?’ he said.
The words she’d said to him that day at the market. He had tried to humiliate her, but it hadn’t stayed that way.
‘I don’t know why I said that—’
‘To taunt me.’
She almost smiled. ‘I suppose that’s true.’
‘They had another effect. They haunted me, and it’s all I can do not to show you.’
It hadn’t only been him affected by her words. For many nights afterward she dreamed of Hugh like this. ‘Won’t you?’ she said.
His chest rose and fell suddenly, his lids narrowed. ‘The fire’s lit. I want to see you now. There will be no more waiting, no more stalling, no more longing. And I do long, Alice. Even if I have to wait.’
‘I don’t want to wait.’
He closed his eyes briefly on that. ‘You need me to wait. You need me to even if you don’t know it.’
His words added to the tension between them, like wool being expertly twisted between the distaff and the spindle. Even the low reverberations of laughter and song downstairs tightened the need to be with him. As if they could be caught.
She felt ensnared.
Keeping her gaze on him, she undid each shoe, rolled down each of her hose. Her fingers fumbled as she tossed them aside.
Hugh wasn’t looking at her eyes. Instead his gaze skimmed up from her bare feet along her still covered legs and down again. He bent, his movements swift, sure, as he tossed his boots aside.
She slid off the bed. His haste in removing his boots encouragement enough as she untied the laces at her sides, as she shrugged to let her gown fall to the ground and stepped out of the clinging fabric until she stood in only her chemise.
She waited, but Hugh stood still. ‘Tell me, Alice.’
She licked her dry lips. ‘Tell you what?’
‘What do you want from me?’
She felt as if he was preparing her for something—like wool about to be sorted and cleansed. As if she was being readied to be made into something else.
‘I told you I don’t know why I said that to you that day.’
‘I think you do.’ He paused. ‘I’ve wanted you all my life, and I feel as if I’ve been bound to stay away from you. Now you’ve suddenly given me a way to untie those bonds. But my hands are shaking. I need you to tell me.’
Didn’t he know? He wasn’t bound away from her. He was bound to her. That thread she felt—he felt it, too.
His hands might be shaking, but her whole body quaked at his words, at what he implied. He wanted her to...to command him. Her heart sped, warmth filled low in her belly. He was right, she wanted it, too.
‘Take off your tunic and belt.’
Huffing in a breath as if she jabbed him, he roughly unhooked his leather belt and it fell heavily to the floor. Grabbed the back of his tunic and tugged it over his head. She watched the muscles in his stomach ripple, saw the flexing of his arms as they lifted so light a weight. He threw the fabric as if he wanted never to see it again.
He was bare except for leggings that hid nothing from her. The flames’ light illuminated his tanned skin, the light dusting of hair along his chest and down to his breeches. Tall, lean, corded in ways she hadn’t imagined. Had felt, but didn’t know the full extent of. Magnificent male. A knight. A warrior.
And every glimpse of his skin showed the hours of training, the scars and wounds from past battles.
Some injuries were far more recent. There was a fresh wound surrounded by bruising on his left side. Healing, still red. He’d received that while he’d been in Swaffham. Training or something else?
‘Does it hurt?’ She pointed to his side.
His brow rose, he looked at his side, and shook his head. ‘Worried for me?’
‘Maybe.’
‘It was Eldric. He’s gotten better at wrestling since the last time I saw him.’
She didn’t like that he got hurt. But the longer she gazed, the more she noticed his past injuries. The jagged line across his forearm that matched the identical jaggedness of the thin strip across his stomach.
She hated that. Hated that he’d suffered, that she hadn’t been there to protect him, to help him as she should have. He loved her—he should have stayed here. Hadn’t he realised that when she’d punched him in the nose?
‘I am concerned for you.’
A small smile. ‘I’ll have you know he didn’t get another swipe at me, and I won’t let him.’
Another pause from him. His gaze was waiting. Watching.
The chemise wouldn’t be so easy to remove. It wasn’t only the laces at the side, but the fact that she’d have to lift it over her head. Her arms didn’t feel as if they’d work properly.
‘Hugh...’ she said, her voice not indicating any nervousness, but instead a whisper of something else. Desire. Longing. She wanted this. But her hands seemed incapable of completing this strange game they started.
‘I’m right here, Alice.’
She could see that. The flames danced behind him. The tips of his hair curled, the light blond shining in the fire’s light. His eyes a dark murky blue.
‘I don’t understand this.’
‘I know. I don’t either, and it’s not how I imagined I’d react.’
‘You’ve imagined this?’
A laugh, a chuckle—low, pained. ‘Over thousands of nights and hundreds of days.’
‘I don’t think I can do this. Shouldn’t you be here?’ She indicated in front of her. Directly in front of her.
‘I should. Yes, I should. But, just as you can’t seem to lift that material, I can’t seem to move from where I am.’
Something forlorn tugged through her then. Maybe they would always be separate. Maybe they had waited too long.
‘Why are we like this?’ she asked, fearing the answer, but needing it.
‘Because I want you too much. Always have. And it’s like a dream that we are even here.’
Warmth spread through her. ‘But I’m real. I’m here... I want you to kiss me. Like at Lyman’s.’
‘Don’t mention Lyman’s.’ He closed his eyes, shuddered. ‘It makes it worse if you mention that room. What I wanted to do to you. What I’m aching to begin now.’
Was that how it was for him? Did she affect him so much? She could see it in the way his gaze went distant and heated at the memory of what they had done.
And knowing he shuddered simply at the memory made everything easy again. She simply gripped her chemise and ripped it over her head.
His chest suddenly stilled before he shoved himself away from the fireplace and strode towards her.
His eyes didn’t roam over her naked frame. Instead each watchful gaze fell against her skin like his heavy steps across the floorboards. From her feet to her thighs to her hips to the indentation of her waist and breasts. More steps, until his eyes locked on her lips. On her eyes. Until he stood before her as she had commanded him to do.
‘Too long,’ he whispered. ‘Too much. You are more beautiful to me than I could ever dream.’
Warmed by his words, she grew restless and urged, ‘Please, Hugh, touch me. End this.’
‘Lie down,’ he said.
She didn’t hesitate—wouldn’t, since for every step she took back he stepped forward. When she sat he took the final step, but did not sit with her.
She should have felt vulnerable. She’d asked him to take his clothes off, but he’d kept his leggings and braies on. She sat while he stood.
Alice could see the fine sheen of his skin, knew this wait was costing him as much as her. She put out her hand as if he might take it, as if she could pull him to her. They were so close and she wanted this.
‘Not yet. You don’t know what you do to me. How much I want to touch you. Your skin looks so soft...’
‘You’ve touched me,’ she reminded him. ‘At Lyman’s. Here.’ She demonstrated with her hand and fingers along her shoulders, and down her arm. ‘And here.’ Her hand went down her thigh.
He went rigid, watching her hand. She didn’t know where this came from—this strength, this need.
‘Through your clothes,’ he said, his eyes lifting reluctantly from her hand to her eyes again.
There was no relief from Hugh being this close to her. She could feel the heat from his body, smell the scent of leather, of linen, of him. See the curl of his hair against his forehead and that fraying of his control as he’d watched her hand.
She was bound to him, bound by a thread, by her feelings, by their love. But still he kept himself away from her when she needed him nearer. Yet all her life if she saw a problem she found a solution. She’d bring him closer.
‘But wouldn’t you like to touch me here?’ She purposefully trailed her fingers from between her breasts up along her collarbone to the arch of her neck. Watched as his eyes absorbed her every stroke.
‘Alice...’
‘Your clothes,’ she said, stopping her hand.
He shucked his leggings and braies as efficiently and roughly as he had the other pieces of his clothing. Then he stood naked before her.
Never had she seen a male before, and never one like this. Magnificent knight. If she was at the mercy of the master spinner who bound them, she wanted it. Needed it. Demanded he twirl the spindle faster to tighten the thread.
His body shot with tension, his breath ragged, Hugh bent his knee on the bed and dipped his head to kiss her neck ever so softly along the path she’d traced with her fingers.
Supported by the bed, she tilted her head for more of his hot kisses, more of his flickering licks as he tasted her.
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. Waiting for her command.
Watching his eyes, she trailed her finger along the shell of her ear to the curve of her jawline and then traced the other ear.
Hugh lips curved more before he bent again. She shivered as she felt his breath, hot and moist. She shuddered as she felt his tongue and lips along the new path she’d created.
He moved further up the bed and so did she, until she was lying down and he was lying over her on straightened arms. A bead of sweat on the side of his face matched the fine sheen on the rest of him. His blond hair, curled like a halo, made him look like an angel. But the shadows and reliefs, the muscles, cords and planes of his body, were wicked.
She’d never seen a man like this—up close, one she could touch. But she lay still, watching his eyes searching everywhere but always ending with hers. Then her lips again.
He wanted to kiss her; she wanted it as well. It was the logical place for her fingers to go. To trace along her lips until he replaced them with his mouth.
He gave it to her. Brief, not enough. She wanted more.
Keeping her gaze on him, she trailed her fingers from the base of her throat down between her breasts, slowly, slowly, loving and watching the surprise in Hugh’s now half-lidded eyes, in the parting of lips that looked swollen and vulnerable, watching as he followed her continuing trail until she stopped at her stomach.
A groan came from him, and she revelled in the heavy weight of him as he lowered his straightened arms, dipped his head to bring his lips to where she’d trailed her fingers, to sample and kiss, to lick at her navel.
She whimpered; he lifted his gaze. Suffused with heat, she shook her head at him.
‘Then let me...’ He adjusted himself between her legs. His hands and fingers curved to the back of her thighs, opening her for him.
She was no longer showing him where she wanted his kisses, his touch. It was his turn.
His body went tense as hers grew slack. As she curved into the cradle of his arms against the locked tenseness of his body while his fingers glided down from her navel.
‘Hugh...’ she tried to warn him.
‘Let me, Alice. Command me. I want to kiss you here.’ His fingers stroked through her curls. ‘And then I want to do more.’
It was his words, the loss of control of his breath matching hers, the increase of tension between them—she couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand it.
‘Alice, please...’ The heat of his hand was cupping her. His fingers were rubbing, pressing. ‘Let me,’ he repeated.
‘Yes!’ she gasped.
With a wolfish grin, he did as she commanded him to do.