Read The Warrior's Forbidden Virgin Online

Authors: Michelle Willingham

Tags: #England, #Historical Romance, #Ireland, #Irish, #Love Story, #Medieval England, #Medieval Ireland, #Medieval Romance, #Norman, #Normans, #Romance, #Viking, #Vikings, #Warrior, #Warriors

The Warrior's Forbidden Virgin (4 page)

She touched his face, examining him for other cuts or bruises. A small scar edged his throat, one she’d not noticed earlier.

“What are you doing, Katherine?” he murmured, his large hands stroking her spine. He brought her closer, so that she was almost sitting in his lap. And Lord help her, she wanted to rest against him, to feel the heat of his kiss and release some of her unbearable tension.

But instead, she stepped backwards. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “Was that the only place where you were hurt?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze indiscernible. Rising to his feet, he towered over her.

“Thank you for helping my sister,” Katherine managed.

“She isn’t safe yet.” Ademar strode over to the window, looking out upon the inner bailey. “She still has to find Ewan. And John might pursue her.”

Katherine exhaled, hoping her sister would escape. Perhaps her father would agree to send escorts to help Honora, despite their disagreements.

She rested her hand upon Ademar’s shoulder, drawing comfort from his nearness. Though she didn’t know how it had happened, his steady presence made her feel safe.

Beloved.

He turned toward her, and for a heart-stopping moment, she thought he would kiss her again. His hand moved to her nape, threading through her long braid.

“I don’t trust John,” Katherine whispered. “He’s not going to let Honora go, is he?”

Ademar shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“She’s alone. Someone should escort her and ensure that she finds Ewan.” She touched his cheek, imploring him, “Will you go?”

His blue eyes locked into hers and she saw the ruthless air once more. “Only if you marry me.”

Chapter Four

It was an hour before sunset. Ademar had tracked Honora’s path toward Wales, and it wouldn’t be long before they found her. Though he’d intended to go alone, Katherine had refused to be left behind. She struggled to keep up with his furious pace, and her posture sagged on horseback.

His betrothed. He still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to wed him. Not when there were men better spoken than himself, with vast holdings far beyond that of his own estate.

Ademar gripped the reins of his horse, uneasy about what he’d done. What kind of man had to coerce his bride into marriage? Was it because he’d agreed to follow her sister and ensure Honora’s safety? He’d have done so, even without Katherine’s acceptance of his proposal. Despite the chain mail disguise, he didn’t like the thought of Honora traveling alone, not with the dangers she might face.

Nervous energy twisted his gut. He wasn’t the man Katherine had wanted, while she was everything he’d dared to dream about. Risking a glance back at her, he saw the exhaustion on her face, along with resignation.

She wasn’t happy about wedding him. He was nothing but a stuttering fool, and if he had any honor, he’d release her from the agreement. He hadn’t spoken to her father yet. There was time enough for her to change her mind.

But God help him, he didn’t want that. And he hadn’t the faintest idea of how to keep her at his side.

Ahead, he spied the light of a single fire and the silhouettes of two people. Ademar signaled for Katherine to stop. When she brought her horse beside his, he pointed. “I think we’ve found her.”

Katherine shielded her eyes from the dying sunlight. “Are you sure it’s Honora?”

“These are the tracks from Ardennes. One horse, and no one followed.”

She stood staring at the fire, her face masking an uncertain expression. “They’re together, aren’t they?”

He nodded. Katherine reached out for his hand, gripping it tightly. He held her palm, offering silent reassurance. Nonetheless, she appeared tired and downtrodden. He supposed that seeing her sister and Ewan together didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“I wanted her to be safe. I did. She’s my sister, and I…told her to go with him.”

He could hear the pain in her voice, and it seemed cruel to stay any longer. It would only hurt her more. “We’re going to go back to Ardennes.”

“In a moment.” She took his hand in both of hers. “I spoke to my father earlier.”

Ademar hid the curse that came to his lips. God preserve him. Lord Ardennes would kill him for stealing away with his daughter. “What did he say?”

“He was angry for what happened to my sister.” Her shoulders lowered with satisfaction. “He ordered John and his men to leave Ardennes at dawn.”

He didn’t share in Katherine’s relief. Likely John’s men would pursue Honora, given the opportunity.

“Does your father know you followed me?” He prayed she would say no. The last thing they needed was the wrath of Lord Ardennes and his garrison of soldiers.

She blushed. “Not exactly. I told him I wasn’t feeling well, and I was planning to stay the rest of the night in my chamber. My maid knows where I am.”

Damn. If he didn’t bring Katherine safely home before anyone else noticed she was gone, the baron would have him murdered without a second thought. Although there wasn’t time to reach Ardennes tonight, he wanted to get as close as possible.

When it grew too dark to travel any further, he stopped their horses near a small river. He brought Katherine to a copse of fir trees, a small haven of privacy.

Katherine dismounted, tending to their horses while he built a fire. He’d expected to spend the night alone and had packed provisions for himself. With the last of the evening light, he set up the tent for her, placing the temporary shelter a safe distance away, but where it would still receive the warmth of the flames.

Ademar brought food for Katherine, offering her pieces of bread and cheese. It was meager fare, but he hadn’t known she would be traveling with him. She held out a portion, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch the food.

“Ademar,” she murmured. “You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She broke off a piece of the cheese and brought it to his mouth. He forced himself to taste it, but it could have been grass for all that he knew. Being here alone with her, knowing that she had given her agreement to wed him…it didn’t seem real. Almost as though he could close his eyes and she would disappear.

“It’s late,” he said, though it wasn’t at all. “You should get some sleep.” Nodding toward the tent, he waited for her to go inside.

Worry lined her eyes, and when her hand moved to his temple, she examined the wound. “Does this hurt you?” Tenderly she smoothed back his hair.

It did, but he was so entranced by her touch, he didn’t care. He caught the faint scent of eastern spices—a hint of cinnamon with the tang of cloves—an exotic perfume he didn’t recognize.

“Do you know why I said yes to the betrothal?” she murmured, letting her hand fall to his arm.

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“Because I know that you care for me…the way Ewan never did. You never look upon me as though I embarrass you.”

“You honor me,” was all he could say. And though he didn’t believe she would ever come to feel the same way about him, it was enough for now.

Her dark blue eyes were unfathomable in the twilight, and he was afraid to touch her. Afraid she would pull away from him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked.

He wanted to, but he didn’t trust himself. A single kiss would lead to more, and it would frighten her. But he brushed an innocent kiss upon her mouth, the kiss a friend might give to another.

She faltered, her lips pursing as if she were about to say something. Instead, she whispered, “Good night.”

He heard her enter the tent, but he didn’t watch her. Instead, he granted her the privacy of a sleeping place of her own. Unbuckling his sword belt, he laid his weapon within an easy grasp, should it be needed.

“Are you going to sleep there, on the grass?”

“Yes.” He kept his gaze firmly upon the fire. At the moment, his imagination was rekindling the memory of last night, when he’d laid her down upon his bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she had responded to him, and even now, his body hardened to think of her.

Grimly, he closed his eyes, trying to shut her out.

“Is this the way it will be, once we’re wed?” Katherine’s voice held a note of disappointment, but God above, what did she want from him? He was trying to respect her needs, to let her have her own space.

He rolled over, resting his head against his palm. She was sitting down inside the tent, with the flap drawn back. Her black hair was unbraided, spilling over her shoulders like a river of ink. The veil she usually wore was folded neatly beside her.

“Share the tent with me,” she offered. He couldn’t say whether she was giving him a courtesy or a true invitation.

“I’ll be fine right here.” Where he would lie awake all night, dreaming of the taste of her skin.

“Ademar,” she whispered again. His name was a seductive command, and like a siren, he could not ignore her call.

“I can’t, Katherine.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I get any closer to you, I won’t be able to stop this time. You’ll take me into your body and be a virgin no longer.”

To his utter shock, she smiled.

 

Katherine had never seen the knight so flustered. His face was red, and he was staring at the grove of trees as though he expected them to catch fire.

Her heart softened toward him, knowing that she had unsettled him so. He made her feel powerful, as though she could say or do anything and he would never leave her.

His marriage offer had taken her by surprise, but after she’d thought more about it, she believed it was a good match. Even when she’d fainted, Ademar hadn’t chastised her or looked upon her with disgust. He’d taken care of her.

Saints, she didn’t know her own feelings right now. She wanted to lie beside him this night. She wanted to fall asleep with his arms around her, taking strength from him.

His head wound had remained closed, and so long as it didn’t fester, she believed it would heal well enough. She was proud of having faced her fears.

But Ademar could have been killed. The thought sent a shiver through her, for she was starting to question her feelings for this man.

“I would have…have helped your sister anyway,” Ademar confessed. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself by wedding me.”

His words caught her unawares. It was as if he didn’t believe she wanted to be betrothed to him.

“It’s not a sacrifice, Ademar.” She left the shelter of the tent and went to kneel beside him. Taking his hands in hers, she settled them around her waist.

Touch me
, she thought.
I need you.

Especially now, for she was letting go of Ewan. She needed to reaffirm that she was desirable, that nothing was wrong with her.

Ademar bent down, leaning his cheek against her hair. “I don’t want you to have regrets.”

“We have friendship between us.” Lifting her gaze to his blue eyes, she added, “Perhaps more.”

She brought his face down to hers, kissing him again. She explored his firm mouth, trying to tempt him to kiss her back.

When he did, he made her forget what she’d been trying to do. His mouth took possession of hers, his tongue sliding inside while he plundered her. His hands moved to fill up with her breasts, caressing and teasing the nipples.

He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled his waist, feeling his hard length between her thighs. Ademar cupped her bottom, riding her against him in a new form of torment.

Against her neck, he murmured, “You shouldn’t have…have started this.”

She was trembling with a dark need for him, the need to be taken. It didn’t matter that it would take time to finalize the betrothal and wedding. She didn’t care about the ceremonial bedding and everything expected of them.

She wanted him to lie with her this night. She wanted to seduce him, to ensnare him the way he’d tantalized her. And she had no doubt he would exorcise Ewan from her mind.

“Finish it, Ademar. Touch me the way you did last night.”

He glanced through the trees toward the fire belonging to her father’s men. “Be certain this is what you want.”

She rose, removing her garments until her shift pooled at her ankles. “I am certain.”

Ademar inhaled at the sight of her, his eyes burning with intense need. She was hardly aware of how long it took him to remove his own clothing, but he guided her inside the tent, drawing the flap closed.

The space was tiny, barely enough for one, let alone two. His large body wrapped around hers, his legs tangling up with her own. The hot male skin took her breath away, and she found herself growing wet when his hard manhood nestled against her. He lifted her leg around his waist, nudging himself at her entrance.

She shuddered at the contact, wanting him to slide deep inside her. But he didn’t. Instead, he caressed the skin of her spine, kissing her lips and face. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He made her feel beautiful. She smiled in the darkness and noticed that his hands were shaking.

“Have you ever been with a woman before?” she asked, sliding her palms over his torso. The soft hair of his chest brushed against her breasts, arousing her even more.

“No.” His hands moved over her bottom, reaching between her legs to the wetness of her entrance. Katherine gasped at the contact, moaning when he inserted his finger. “But I’ve dreamed of being with you.”

“What did you dream of?” she whispered, trembling when he stroked her womanhood, sliding deep inside and then out again.

He gave a low laugh. “They were nothing compared to this.”

Raising her hips, he guided the tip of himself inside. Thick and hard. Her breathing quickened when she felt him rub against her in shallow strokes.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmured. “I’ll do whatever you ask. What—whatever feels good to you.”

She didn’t know how she dared to tell him. But instead, she guided his mouth to her breast, squirming against him when he sucked the nipple. With his tongue, he traced the outline, flicking it against the tip while her body took his manhood deeper. She was sliding against him, her body weight sheathing him.

Tight. So unbearably tight and hot. And yet nothing in the world would make her let him go.

His face tensed, and when at last he was buried inside her, he held her so fiercely, she could scarcely breathe.

“It…hurts a little,” she admitted. He kissed her tenderly, his mouth grazing her neck while he lifted her up a fraction. Withdrawing slightly, he eased her back down.

“You’re going to drive me mad,” he whispered hoarsely.

She pushed his shoulders back until he was lying flat. With their bodies still joined, she rose up, experimenting with the motion until she found a slow rhythm that felt good.

He endured the penetration, his eyes locked upon hers. “Faster,” he commanded.

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