Several times during the afternoon Garrett came back into the tent, once with food for her. He waited until Patrick was back in his tent with the princess before allowing Bridget out to bathe and take care of her necessary business. With the kind of consideration he was showing her, it was hard not to feel protected and like he cared. Even if he wouldn't explain anything to her, even when she asked. He just shook his head and said now was not the time. It was more than a little frustrating, but there was nothing she could do.

Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable affair. Patrick and the princess had finally emerged from the tent, her eyes looking swollen from crying, yet she had an almost dreamy expression on her face. From the little Bridget had seen and experienced of Patrick's preferences, she shuddered thinking about what the princess might be enduring. Even if she seemed to enjoy it, Bridget knew that she wouldn't, and the lascivious looks Patrick was sending her way were not reassuring.

Sure enough, by the time dinner was over, Patrick offered to switch women for the night.

To her shock, Garrett laughed.

"You've worn the princess out and now you want the little maid because she's rested?" he said with a grin, in that joking manner men have with each other. "I told you I was having her rest up for the night ahead." Reaching out he grabbed Bridget and pulled her into his lap, his hand grasping her breast through the cloth covering it. She sat frozen and rigid in his lap, averting her eyes from both of them. "Perhaps if you hadn't worn the princess out this afternoon..."

Icy shards went through her chest and she closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that this handsy, indifferent Garrett was the act. If only he didn't sound so convincing, as if which woman he was with truly didn't matter to him.

"She doesn't wear out that easy," said Patrick with a coarse laugh. "There's plenty of vigor left in her for playing. The little maid looks too rigid to be any fun right now, are you sure she's rested? Or perhaps she just needs some warming up."

"I prefer not to share my nights, as you know," Garrett said a little coldly, just bordering on antagonistic but not quite. Bridget was relieved to hear it, fairly certain that this was another way of protecting her. His thumb rubbed over her nipple and Bridget shuddered as his other hand came to rest on her lap, pulling her skirts up and sliding underneath them to caress her inner thighs. Burying her face into his neck she moaned softly, hoping it was what he wanted her to do. The arm around her back squeezed her encouragingly. "Besides, I can warm her up on my own."

From the way his hand was moving between her legs, she was quite sure it looked to Patrick like Garrett's fingers were probing much more intimate things than her upper thigh. Obligingly she squirmed a let out another soft gasp, trying not to be too obvious, but hoping her actions would prove Garrett's declaration that he didn't need any help with her. The light, soft strokes of his fingers so close to her womanhood, but not actually touching, truly were doing a marvelous job of warming her up. If Patrick hadn't been standing there watching she might have been tempted to squirm closer, so his fingers could actually touch her heat.

"What's so special about her?" Patrick asked. The curiosity in his voice seemed sincere.

"Nothing," said Garrett. "But the princess suits your needs much better than this one does, and I've had more time to teach the little maid the things I like. Why trade when we both find more satisfaction in the current situation?”

"Fine then," Patrick said in a voice full of irritation. She wondered if he was more irritated that Garrett wouldn't trade or that Garrett had managed to neatly side step any true confrontation. Even though she couldn't see his face, with her own buried in Garrett's shoulder, she could tell that he was sneering. "Enjoy your evening."

"I plan to."

With that, Patrick stalked away, snapping his fingers at the princess as he passed her and gesturing towards his tent. Bridget peeked at the other woman, seeing the expression of trepidation and excitement on her face. How could she enjoy Patrick's attentions so much? Not that Bridget hadn't found release during her own night with him, but she didn't understand the other woman's eagerness or the ecstasy she'd seen on the princess' face when Patrick had strapped her. As soon as she heard them enter their tent, she relaxed against Garrett's hard body, finally noticing the stroking of her thigh and breast had stopped.

When she looked up at him, he had almost a bemused expression on his face as he studied her in the flickering light of the campfire.

"You're quite an amazing little thing, aren't you?" His voice was low again, too low to carry.

Amazing, her? Bridget blinked. That certainly wasn't an adjective that had ever been used to describe her, not that she knew of. "What do you mean?"

"You knew exactly what to do to help Patrick to back off." Lifting a hand to her face, he brushed some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. It was an almost tender gesture, matching the gentle look in his eyes. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen quite that look on his face before. "You don't panic. You still manage to find small joys throughout the day, regardless of the situation. Wonderfully smart, generous, passionate..." His voice dropped even lower, as if he was talking to himself and not to her as his hand curved under her chin so he could rub his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes latching onto her mouth. "And so damn beautiful." She knew he was going to kiss her then, not for an act or as an opening to bedding, but just for the pleasure of a kiss.

Her body tingling, she tipped her head back a little further and met his lips with hers, her hands reaching up to touch his chest as he angled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. The kiss was gentle, seductive, coaxing. Bridget shivered with pleasure, opening her mouth to accept his tongue, her own moving to caress his. As she kissed him back, she could feel rather than hear the groan deep in his chest as his arms tightened and their kiss deepened.

Time seemed to suspend, allowing them to inhabit their own little bubble outside of space and time, outside of their situation. They were just a man and a woman, touching each other in the darkness. He admired her for her spirit, her tenacity and her joy of life as well as her beauty and she found herself believing in the man she saw underneath the front he portrayed. The protective, humorous, and surprisingly kind man she was able to catch glimpses of when they were alone. Bridget felt her breasts growing heavy with the need to be touched, the moistness between her legs welling in anticipation.

When the kiss finally ended, they were both panting for breath and her lips felt swollen from use.

"I want you," Garrett said in a hoarse whisper. In the darkness his eyes looked like liquid. "Patrick won't be paying attention to us tonight... he'll be busy with the princess. Say yes, Bridget."

She recognized the plea for what it was, realizing he was giving her a choice. Of course he wanted her to say yes, but he wouldn't force her if she didn't. But could she? Staring up at him, she ran her fingers along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble against their tips, feeling his jaw clenching at her touch. He held himself quite still, as if afraid she'd run if he moved. Sliding her fingers over his firm lips, Bridget giggled as his tongue flicked out to lick them. A choice... something none of the men had offered. Something he hadn't offered before. Although, she quite suddenly remembered that first night with him when he'd done nothing but hold her. Since then, yes he'd taken his pleasure with her, but always when it would be obvious to the other men if he didn't.

For some reason he didn't want the others to know that he was different.

But now, with no witnesses, he was allowing her to control the situation. So what did she want?

Their gazes met, steadily. There was no pleading or insistence in his, only patience and desire. Bridget licked her lips, moistening them, and enjoyed seeing his eyes drop to watch her tongue flicking out.

"Yes," she whispered.

That was all it took. Garrett swept her up in his arms, one behind her back and the other under her knees, as she twined her own arms around his neck, and he carried her to the tent. The sheer strength in his body was breathtaking, he lifted and carried her like she weighed nothing. Once in the tent, he laid her down carefully, kissing her soundly as he began to strip the clothes from her body. She helped as best she could at returning the favor, surprised at how much she was enjoying this slow build up, even though part of her wanted to go faster. The desires Garrett had awoken in her were running rampant throughout her body, making her ache to feeling him plunging between her legs again, to feel his weight on top of her, pressing her down with his passion.

She moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and toying with her nipples. The sensation traveled directly from her rosy buds to the slick folds between her thighs, her body tingling with anticipation as he teased and worshiped her. The infuriating man only chuckled as he moved away from her, down her body, just as she tried to wrap her legs around him and draw him into her.

"So eager," he murmured. "I like you this way."

Then his lips wrapped around on pert nipple, suckling it deep into his mouth, and she found she didn't have the words to answer. She reached for his head, to hold him to her breast, but he took her hands and held them down on either side of her. To her surprise she felt another gush of wetness flowing through her core; some part of her liked being held down. Was it a conditioned response from her time with these men? Or was there a darkness inside of her that craved the vulnerability and helplessness even Garrett created in her?

Writhing beneath him, she didn't fight his hold on her wrists, allowing him to pin her in place with her arms on either side of her body as he sucked and nipped at her breasts, drawing mouthfuls of flesh between his lips and sucking. Pleasure coursed through her, her hips moving up to try and press her groin against him as he rolled a nipple between his teeth, her breathy moans filling the air. If Patrick was listening then he would know that Garrett was using her again. And that she was enjoying it.

His tongue flicked over the soft flesh of her stomach, traveling down to her belly button which felt shockingly sensitive as he rimmed it. Squirming, she moaned soft words of encouragement as his mouth continued its travels lower, kissing her hip bones and then down to her thigh. His face close enough to her mound that the soft curls brushed against his cheek. Now she couldn't help but try to pull her wrists away from his grasp, her body aching for his touch on her core and since he wasn't doing it on his own, she desperately needed her hands to push his mouth onto her.

Garrett just laughed again as she began to plead, and she knew he was pleased for two reasons—first, because if Patrick was listening then he would hear her begging, but not be entirely sure why. Second, because of his masculine pride over her need for him. He teased her, licking up both sides of her inner thighs, his breath hot on her sensitive folds, an occasional flick of the tongue against her wetness, and a steady grip on her hands as she squirmed and pleaded for him.

When he finally did lay his mouth on her, she thought she might faint from the pleasure of it. His tongue took long, slow swipes up her folds, sweeping into every crevice and licking her from bottom to top, flicking against the little pleasure pearl at the end of every stroke. Bridget moved her hips eagerly, up and down, until he released her hands and slid his arms under her legs, propping up her thighs on each of his shoulders and tipping her body up so that he could more easily feast on her tender flesh. Immediately she buried her hands in his hair as he began to suckle at her. Although this new position returned the use of her hands, she found she could no longer move her hips in the manner she had been. Her body was now more completely held in Garrett's thrall as he held her still, taking complete control over the oral pleasuring of her cunt.

"Garrett... oh Garrett...." she quivered in his grasp like a tuning fork, every inch of her completely attuned to the rising tide inside of her as he pulled her legs farther apart with his hands, completely exposing her slick slit to his mouth and questing tongue. The thick muscle pushed inside of her and wriggled, causing her tight tunnel to clamp down hard enough that it was forced out of her. The fingers in his hair tightened as she arched her back, her breasts thrusting upwards.

As if he knew the peak he'd brought her to, Garrett's mouth moved unerringly upwards to suck her most tender bit between his lips, pulling on it erotically as the waves of pleasure crashed against the shoreline and Bridget was lost in the foaming surf. She cried out as the rapture overtook her, buffeted this way and that by the swells of her release. With every flick of his tongue against her engorged bud she found herself crashing through a new wave of ecstasy.

Releasing her from the hard suckling of his mouth, he renewed the long slow swipes of his tongue, drinking up her cream as she shuddered and twitched with the rolling aftershocks of her climax. Knowing from earlier in the day how overly stimulated he could make her when he chose, how exquisitely painful her orgasms could become, Bridget was thankful for this reprieve. Especially knowing he wouldn't be done with her yet.

Practically crawling back up her body, Garrett kissed her hard and deep so she could taste her bittersweet musk on his lips. This exchange of fluid only seemed to excite him more and she could feel his hardness nudging against her leg, moving upwards towards her core. Despite the fact that she had just experienced one release, she still found her insides aching to hold him. There was just something so much more intimately satisfying about having him inside of her, it caused a fuller and more complete climax when they were joined together.

Letting one of her legs slide down to the ground, he kept the other hooked over his elbow, opening her most sensitive parts to him as his erection rubbed against her swollen folds, creamy with the remnants of her orgasm. Bridget moaned into his mouth, taking his tongue deeper as her entire lower body tingled. She felt wonderfully tight as he began to press into her, the position making it hard for her to arch up against him the way she wanted to, but at the same time she luxuriated in his control over her. Having him take control over her body felt completely different now that she'd accepted him, made the choice to find pleasure with him.

The thick rod of his cock pushed inside of her, shoving almost too quickly for comfort. Her walls spasmed around him and she whimpered into his mouth. Somehow his love-making felt different, as if he was more desperate for her, as if he was on fire with a need only she could quench. He held her open for his hard thrusts, her free leg wrapping around his body to pull him into her, a move that made him gasp and break off the kiss as his back arched, pushing himself deeply into her crevice.

Crying out, Bridget clawed at his shoulders, her nails raking over his flesh in passion as they moved together.

Bowing his head down Garrett began to nibble and kiss at her neck as he rode her body, murmuring her name over and over into her hair and skin. She loved the way her name sounded on his lips, in that deep voice. He said her name the way a man in the desert cried out for water.

"Yes... yes... yes... yes..." she chanted breathlessly, her tension winding higher and higher. The arm not holding on to her leg wound behind her, gripping her shoulders and pulling her hard against him as he plundered her body, his lips returning to hers to cut off her voice. She was drowning in his kiss, in the ecstasy that tightened her insides, feeling full to bursting with her hot passion.

She screamed against his lips as his tongue delved deep into her mouth, muffling her erotic cries. Digging her nails into his shoulders she clung to him, a tear leaking from the crease of her eye at the intense storm of sensation that flowed out from her convulsing tunnel, the fiery, tingling wash of sensual bliss that filled her up and exploded outwards. The intensity of her feminine climax had Garrett groaning as he ground himself against her, the spasmodic gyrations of her tunnel sucking at his cock until he thrust himself fully into her and held, filling her with hot fluid. Bridget's foot dug into his buttocks as he released into her body, holding him tightly against her until they were both sated to repletion.

Slowly their muscles relaxed and his kiss softened, his tongue making little licks inside her mouth before their lips closed and then opened again, a series of kisses as the tension flowed out of them. Bridget moaned softly as he shifted against her, her cunt feeling wonderfully sore from all the pleasure he had wrung from her today.

"Ah, Bridget," he murmured, kissing her lips again and then trailing kisses down her jaw and neck.

Eventually, he shifted off of her and pulled her into his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder as he wrapped himself around her. Cocooned in his body, Bridget slept.

**********

It was midday when Samuel and Blaine returned, smirks on their faces and saddlebags loaded down with jewelry and silver. Garrett strode out the meet them, as Patrick was busy entertaining the princess. He felt his chest constrict, knowing their arrival meant a return to his real life.

"How did it go?" he asked, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his little maid glance at him, as if wondering what was going through his head. Many times he had thought she was almost too observant.

"Well enough," said Samuel, looking very pleased with himself. "It was a good haul, but we couldn't get into the safe in the master bedroom."

Garrett groaned. It occurred to him that his groan was only half-faked, as this was supposed to have been the very outcome that he'd hoped for. One of the reasons Patrick kept him around was because there was no one better at getting into safes, and none of the other men had any talent in that area. Unless they had tools with which to break apart the iron bands around the box—tools which were heavy and noisy—Garrett's services were often needed. All in all it had been the perfect cover for him for years now. He still needed to get into the nobleman's house, specifically into that safe, but after last night he was more loathe than ever to leave Bridget alone in the camp. Especially since now Patrick would probably insist on Garrett undertaking the burglary alone, rather than having the men with him, since they had already cleaned out the rest of the haul.

Leaving her alone with all three of the other men had never been his plan, but the only other option was refusing to go after the safe.

But he had to go after the safe. His vows required it, duty demanded it, and for the safety of king and country he must.

"You'll have to go, Garrett," said Patrick, and the three men turned to see their leader stepping out of his tent, looking far more satisfied than a mere fucking could provide. It was quite obvious he was pleased Garrett would have to quit the camp for a bit. Probably to re-establish his leadership with the other men, but there could be a more personal reason than that.

Now, more than ever, he didn't want to leave Bridget alone. But truthfully, she'd be safer here until he could return. So he'd just have to do so as quickly as possible. He nodded to Patrick curtly and strode over to his own saddlebags that held the necessary tools, his mind already racing.

While he didn't think Patrick would find any entertainment in abusing her when Garrett wasn't around to be baited by it, he didn't want to count on that. He couldn't wait until he could finish his mission and quit this camp, taking Bridget with him. After last night he felt quite sure she'd be happy to go. Although he wasn't entirely sure of her feelings, he'd finally admitted to himself how entangled his had become concerning her and he was fairly certain that they were returned.

He just had to make sure that she wasn't harmed before he could take her off to England with him.

********

Bridget watched with astonishment as Garrett packed up his bags, spoke with each of the men individually and then climbed onto his horse. Not one word of protest from him at Patrick's order... no, just on his horse and off to the same house Samuel and Blaine had just returned from. Which meant he was going to be gone for at least one night, leaving her here at the mercy of the other men. And not one look in her direction.

Furiously she scrubbed at the morning's dishes.

"Ah... little maid," Samuel said coldly, his fingers twining through her hair and pulling her head back to meet his icy blue gaze. "I missed you."

After she'd finally decided to trust Garrett, had given herself over to him, he'd left her the mercy of his comrades without a second glance. Fury lit her heart. Last night she'd fooled herself into thinking she meant something to him. Romantic meanderings that had no place in her life. This morning she'd thought herself half in love with him. Now she realized she hated the bastard.

*****

Garrett pounded through the forest, heading unerringly towards the nobleman's house, the end of his three yearlong mission. It was like hurtling towards the edge of a waterfall, one that he'd been watching coming for miles and miles. In some ways he couldn't believe that soon this would all be over and he'd be able to go home, in other ways he dreaded sorting his way through the complications that had arisen, now at the very end of his quest. He knew that he was traveling too quickly, that he should have some care in his approach on the house, but he was finding it hard to focus on such petty matters.

The entire ride his heart was pounding rhythmically as he chanted to himself: Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl.

It was the last of his list that had him hurrying so. Leaving Bridget in the camp, although not entirely defenseless considering her own ingenuity and his prior warnings to the other men as well as his last words, had been the hardest challenge he'd faced in his entire career. He was a bit of a control freak, not surprising considering his occupation, and it unnerved him to have something of such importance to him go unsupervised. When he'd left he hadn't even been able to look at her, for fear that his resolution would fail him and he'd find some way to convince the other men that whatever was in the safe wasn't important to them. After all, they were only after the jewels and heirlooms that were sure to be hidden away there. But he was after the papers and unfortunately Bridget had no importance to his mission and that came first. Had to come first, no matter how much it made him ache to do so. More than one lovely, wonderful girl rested on the successful completion of his mission.

And so he raced along, spurring the horse to greater efforts, attempting to shorten his travels as much as possible.

Get in the safe, get the papers, get out of there and get the girl.