Chapter 20
Hearing Rafe’s words, Angelet got a little nervous. “Right now? In this room?”
“Why not? When Dobson tried to attack you, it was in a room this size. There’s more than enough space to learn how to use a dagger.”
She quickly folded the altar cloth back up, then retrieved her dagger from her pack. She’d used it at supper, though it was also her only weapon.
Rafe took one look and told her to put it back. “Your little knife will serve you perfectly well at table, but for this, think seriously.”
The dagger he handed to her was longer than her own, about a foot in length, but not much wider. It rested in a scabbard of boiled black leather, shiny with wear.
“But this is yours,” she said.
“It’s a purely supplemental weapon for me. You need it more than I do at the moment.”
She withdrew the blade, and it gleamed silvery in the dull light of the room. The hilt was also metal, but wrapped in soft leather so it was easy to grip. The crosspiece was minimal, barely extending past her curved fingers. It was a beautiful weapon, and the point was deadly sharp.
Rafe said, “It’s intended to pierce through your opponent, whether that means clothes or flesh. So you need to point it at them and thrust forward, not swing and slash sideways. Understand?”
She held the dagger out and made an experimental lunge toward the closed door, pretending someone stood there. “Yes, I think so.”
“You can use the side of the dagger blade to block a blade coming at you,” he said, “but that takes practice, and perhaps more arm strength than you have. So let’s concentrate on the dagger’s use as an attack.”
Rafe moved next to her and squared her shoulders with his hands. Despite how close he was, Angelet sensed that he was now totally focused on teaching her to fight.
“You can draw it and hide the blade in the folds of your skirt, like this.” He put his hand on hers and pulled it down to her thigh, where she held the blade, tip pointing at the floor. He stepped around to the other side and squinted. “Good. I can barely see it. So if you’re nervous, you can draw a bit early and hold it there.”
“But eventually I’ll need to use it.”
“Very true.” He held his dagger out now. “Let’s say someone threatens you like this.” He approached quickly, swinging the blade up to hover in front of her chin.
Angelet instinctively took several steps back, and promptly ran into the wall behind her. “Oh, bother.”
“It’s natural to want to run,” he said, dropping his blade and extending a hand to help steady her. “God knows, if running is an option, you should take it. But let’s say you are backed against a wall, as you are now. When someone comes at you like so”—he resumed his previous stance—“you need to go on the attack immediately, or it’s over. He’ll slam you against the wall and you’ll have nowhere to go.”
That sounded horrible. “So how do I attack?” she asked.
“Like this.” He shifted again, moving to stand beside her, showing her how to stand. “See where my feet are, staggered? Do that.”
She did her best to imitate his moves.
“Good,” said Rafe. “Now, move forward with your shoulder leading…good…and lunge with your arm out…straighten your elbow! You’re not offering someone a drink, you’re defending your life. Very good.”
After performing the same series of steps he’d done, Angelet gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly. “It’s not very good if I’m only fighting an imaginary foe.”
“You’re going to fight me.” Rafe moved once again, blocking her path to the door. He raised his dagger. “Try to get past me.”
“Are you sure of this?” she asked. “What if I make a mistake and hurt you?”
“If you hurt me, darling, it’s proof I never should have been knighted in the first place. But I’ll risk it. Now stop dallying and try to get past me.”
She took a deep breath, then lunged at him, just as he first instructed.
A second later, her dagger clattered to the floor and she was caught in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. She gasped. She couldn’t even wriggle out of his embrace.
“Do you understand what happened?” he asked.
“No! What did you do? What did I do wrong?”
“You hesitated,” Rafe explained. “I suspect that you didn’t want to perforate my liver, which is extremely flattering, but not helpful. You need to think of me as an enemy.” He released her and stooped to pick up the dagger, handing it to her. “Now, step back and we’ll try it again. As soon as I say, you need to move fast. Don’t think about me at all, don’t worry about my health. Just go.”
“All right.” Angelet closed her eyes, trying to picture an enemy in front of her, instead of Rafe himself. She envisioned Dobson. “I’m ready,” she said, opening her eyes.
“Go.”
This time she kept the image of Dobson in her mind, and tried to go faster. She lunged forward with her arm held straight. A second later, Rafe grabbed her arm in a defensive move, keeping her from attacking again.
“Well done,” he said.
“But I didn’t do…” She then saw that she had done something. Her dagger pierced his cloth tunic, leaving a ragged hole.
“Oh, sweet mercy,” she gasped, putting her free hand to her mouth.
Rafe grinned at her. “That was perfect.”
“I nearly stabbed you!”
“Yes. That was your objective.”
“But…your clothing! I’ll mend it,” she added. “I can, you know.”
“I have every confidence in you,” Rafe said. “But don’t try to change the subject. We’re not done yet.”
“Surely you don’t want me to come at you again?”
“You did it once, very well. But you need to practice. You need to be confident and know how to move without stopping to think about it. Now try again.”
She did. Time after time she lunged toward Rafe, and time after time she got a little better at the move. Granted, Rafe was far, far more experienced than she was, so his reflexes and training meant he was in no actual danger, despite the fact that she had assaulted his tunic once. He admitted he didn’t expect her to be so accurate so quickly, and thus had been a little slack. She never managed to strike him again.
On the most recent attempt, Rafe stopped her in mid-stride to show her that she was instinctively shying away from a direct attack.
“Keep your shoulder up, and don’t veer away. That leaves you less able to defend yourself. Remember how your body moves. Remember this pose. That’s what you need to be able to do almost without thinking. Try again.”
She did.
He caught her arm and swung her close to his body, effectively entrapping her. “Very good, but never lose your balance. You leaned too far forward and I was able to take advantage of that. Understand?”
“You keep saying very good,” she said, “but you keep winning.”
“Darling, I’ve made this my profession for years. You started tonight. What else do you expect?”
“I hoped I’d be a better student.”
“You’re an excellent student,” he said. “Never doubt it.”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Angelet dropped her hand, concealing the dagger in the folds of her skirt, just as Rafe instructed.
Meanwhile, Rafe stepped around her to answer the door, his dagger now sheathed but close to hand.
He found the innkeeper standing there.
“What’s going on?” the alarmed innkeeper asked. “I heard stomping around as if there was some sort of fight!”
“Oh, please forgive the noise,” Angelet said quickly. “He was just teaching me a lesson.”
The innkeeper’s eyes flicked over to Rafe, and he gave a single, curt nod. “I see. Well, it’s wise to keep a woman in line. Just don’t be all night about it. It might keep the other guests awake.”
“Apologies,” Rafe said, offering a small coin, which undoubtedly helped soothe the innkeeper’s nerves.
After the innkeeper left, Angelet wrinkled her nose. “Wise to keep a woman in line? Ugh. Just as well I didn’t try to explain what was really going on.”
“He wouldn’t have believed you if you did,” said Rafe.
“Nor cared if you were hurting me.” She sighed and put the dagger she’d been gripping onto the little table. “I suppose that concludes the lesson.”
“For now. I’ll teach you more when there’s opportunity.”
“You don’t mind?”
He shrugged. “It’s a dangerous world. Why shouldn’t you have a chance to even the field? After all, I won’t be around to protect you much longer.”
“What can you really teach me in a few weeks?” she asked, not looking at him.
She gasped when she was suddenly swept off her feet and pushed against the wall, exactly where her lesson had begun.
Rafe stood directly in front of her, keeping her in place. “I could teach you not to turn your back on an armed man.”
“That’s not fair, Rafe! We weren’t fighting anymore!”
“You should always be ready, Angelet. And alert.”
She looked up into his eyes. “If I’m ever in this position again, with a stranger, I will be alert. I promise. But this time didn’t count!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I trust you!”
“You shouldn’t.” Rafe looked her over, in a way that made her breath catch. “I could do whatever I wanted with you right now.”
“What would that look like?” she asked, heat building in her core.
He held her to the wall with just one hand laid against her shoulder, emphasizing exactly how much stronger he was than Angelet. “I’ll show you,” he said, his voice low and deliciously promising—and a little frightening.
“What if I don’t care to be shown?” she whispered.
Rafe laid a kiss on her neck, one that left her wanting another and another. “Angelet, the choice is yours. If you want to give the orders, I’ll obey. Always.”
“But you want something else.”
“I think you need something else tonight. And I can show you what.”
She inhaled. Looked him in the eye.
“Show me.”
He bent down to kiss her full on the mouth, seeking her tongue. It was a rough, demanding, possessive kiss, and she didn’t want it to end.
But he did end it, with a ragged breath. Then he grabbed her skirts and gathered them up around her waist, revealing her bare legs.
His hands lifted her higher against the wall, then using his own body to hold her in place, one leg between her own. She gasped when he pressed that leg against her, rubbing exactly where she’d feel it most.
“Rafe,” she gasped. “What are you doing?”
“What I want. And you want it too.”
He slid one finger inside her, then said, “Damn me, you’re wet already.”
She gasped again as he stroked her.
“Say yes if you like it,” he hissed.
“Yes,” she echoed faintly.
“And again. Every time. Every touch. I need to know you want it.”
His voice urged her on, in time with his devastating touch.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Then it happened, a flash of lightning she couldn’t see, only feel as it lit up inside her. She pressed herself against him, grinding her body against his hand. She gasped as she felt a wave of heat roll through her. “Oh, yes, please.”
He held her fast for a long moment, and she pulsed against his hand, desiring him even more than before. He teased her with a few more slow strokes, each of which made her whimper his name.
She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She felt so…smooth, as if all the sharp edges of her existence had been pushed away, replaced with silk.
Angelet laid her head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly.
Then Rafe swung her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. He pulled her gown and shift over her head in a quick movement, leaving her naked. He lowered her back on the covers, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed.
He remained standing, watching her. Then he stripped off his own clothes and stepped to the edge of the bed, pushing her legs apart so he stood between them.
She reached for his erection, and circled her fingers around it. Rafe’s intake of breath was all the motivation she needed. She pulled him closer, but he resisted, even pulling her hand away, though he’d obviously liked her touch. He was far, far stronger than she was, and there was nothing she could do to force him to obey. Except beg.
“Please,” she whispered. “I still need you. You were right before. I need something different. Whatever you want to do.”
“Whatever I want,” he echoed.
With no restrictions, Rafe’s hands roamed freely, cupping her breasts, grazing her hips, stroking her legs. Angelet loved every touch, and loved that he wanted to touch her like this. Perhaps it wasn’t always a loss to let a man do what he liked. It just depended on the man.
“Rafe, please,” she said again, aware of how desperate she sounded.
His eyes raked over her and he smiled. His hands found her hips, dragged her to exactly where he wanted her, and then he pushed his hips roughly against her, parting her legs further. He slid into her without a word, pushing, pushing, pushing until she was moaning his name, her back arching upward. She was still resonating from the climax he’d brought her to with his touch. She could hardly stand the sensation of his body penetrating hers like this. It was too full, too big, too heavy, and far too wonderful.
She didn’t know she was clutching at him, her nails digging into his sides. She closed her eyes and simply felt him slide into her, and out, and in again. She wrapped her legs around his waist without being conscious that she did it, and only dimly heard him gasp with pleasure.
She moaned low in her throat. “You feel so good,” she said. “I love how it feels to have you inside me.”
“That’s it, angel. Let yourself go.”
Another climax broke over her just as she felt him go rigid. He clasped her hips to him as he found his own release. He now covered her body with his, leaving just enough space to avoid crushing her. She slid her hands up his body, feeling the sweat-slicked flesh. Then she tangled her fingers in his hair, and his face hovered over hers. His eyes reminded her of blue pools, easy to dive into, easier to drown in.
“Angelet,” he murmured, sounding very different than his usual self. “Tell me I gave you what you wanted.”
“I thought you were showing me what you wanted.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Oh.”
“So?” he asked. “Was this what you wanted?”
“For now,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, God.” He looked astonished, then hungry, and then his old smile returned. “I think I’ve met my match.”
She reached up to kiss him.
“Release me, darling,” he said in a low voice. He reached to run one hand along her right leg, still locked around his body, keeping him tight against her.
She untwined her legs from him, and sighed as he withdrew from her. She held her hand out, a wordless entreaty for him to lay beside her. He did, stretching out on his back, closing his eyes. He kept her hand in his for a moment, then let it go.
She watched him for a moment, shamelessly appreciating his body. He was gorgeous, and she didn’t want to forget a single detail. If only her visions could be of him.
Angelet giggled inwardly. She would have made a disappointing nun.
She flipped onto her stomach, looking across the floor. The dagger lay within her reach. Idly, she picked it up once more and slid it out of the sheath. She tilted it toward the candlelight, bemused at the play of fire along the blade.
“Are you having any vengeful impulses I should know about?” Rafe asked from where he lay on the bed, watching her. He hadn’t fallen asleep as she thought.
She looked back over her shoulder, smiling. “You’re safe from me.”
“Thank God.”
“But I thank you for teaching me.” She brandished the dagger, a little too showily, but she was feeling exuberant. “Now I feel as though I’m not quite so helpless on my own.”
“Like you were before we met?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, yes. I suppose.”
“Was it only Ernald? Or were there others?”
She looked away, re-sheathing the dagger. “Very few men around Dryton would have dared assault me, even if they’d found opportunity. I am of noble blood.”
“So it was only Ernald you had to fear.”
“Why does it matter? Will you challenge him to combat?”
“Say the word and I will. I am good at it.”
“But you have no grounds. He never actually carried out the threat, not once.”
“Making the threat is enough!” Rafe said. “I should just challenge him anyway. I’ll doubtless be avenging some woman, if not you specifically.”
“You’re God’s instrument of justice?”
“Entirely possible,” he said. “I meet an inordinate number of people who are in need of divine retribution.”
“You move in circles filled with the worst sort of people then.”
“I’m a fighter by trade. So yes. On the other hand,” he added, “I’ve met good people too. Like you.”
“You say that while lying in a bed after we have sinned together.”
“We are offering ourselves freely. Not all marriages have that,” he added darkly. “I refuse to accept that sharing a night with you is a sin.” He kissed her again, slowly.
Desire reawakened in her, and she kissed him back, savoring him in a decidedly sinful way. “We’re sharing more than one night,” she pointed out, between kisses.
“Mmm. Well, I’m not the person to ask when it comes to questions of proper moral behavior. If you want to know about immorality, though, I’m your man.”
She smiled. “Tell me more.”