Desired (25 page)

Edward groaned with disbelief at his great good fortune. That such an exquisitely beautiful creature loved him was no less than a miracle; a gift from the gods. Her skin was like silk and he needed her naked in his lap, needed to hear the love sounds that would come from her pretty throat as his hands moved her against his hard body.

Finally the love play was no longer enough for Edward.
He needed to lie with her: beside her, beneath her, above her.

Inside her.

He got to his feet, cradling her high against his heart. His rampant shaft rose up to touch her bottom and her pale, platinum hair fell over his arm like rippling moonlight.

Brianna knew what she must do. She would never be able to sleep until she had made her peace with Joan. She didn’t bother with a robe. She still wore her apricot under-dress and didn’t think anyone would be about at this hour. She walked softly down the stone passageway where Adele had indicated Joan’s chamber. Perhaps Joan was already asleep. She turned the handle slowly and the heavy door opened a crack.

What Brianna heard gave her pause. She heard the swish of cloth as if a robe fell to the floor. At the same time she heard a gasp, a sigh, a kiss. She heard the unmistakable, sensual sounds of love. A sword of jealousy lanced deep into her heart. Joan was playing wanton with Christian Hawksblood de Beauchamp, Brianna’s own Arabian Knight!

She felt totally betrayed. She swung open the door in outrage, then her eyes widened at the blindingly intimate scene before her.

“
B
rianna!” Joan gasped.

With a hand over her mouth, Brianna turned and fled.

Edward’s arms tightened about his beloved. “Let her go. I’m sure we can trust her with our secret.”

“I’m glad she knows. I don’t know how I kept it from her this long. Perhaps I should go to her, Edward. She looked so shocked, I think she needs me.”

He laughed deep in his throat. “My need is greater, little Jeanette. We will explain together. Tomorrow will be soon
enough.” As Edward walked to the bed, Joan hid her blushes against his throat.

Brianna rushed headlong down the darkened passageway of Berkhamsted, her thoughts in the most indecent disarray. She did not see the tall, dark figure in the shadows. She almost ran into him as he stepped into her path.

Hawksblood gripped her shoulders to steady her. “What is amiss, lady?”

“I … I went to Joan’s chamber … His Highness is with her … she … they—”

“You did not know of their secret liaison?” he asked incredulously.

Brianna shook her head. Her pallor alarmed him. “Come,” he said with command, and ushered her into his chamber. As if she had no will of her own at that moment, she allowed him to take her into a room and sit her down in a chair. “When I heard a man, I thought it was—”

He finished her sentence for her. “You thought it was me,” he said ironically. “Have I not made it plain,
you
are my woman?”

She looked at him in panic. The candles made his dark shadow loom gigantic up the wall. The great four-poster bed dominated the chamber. He saw the fear in her face and dropped down upon one knee. He took her cold hands into his and spoke calmly, quietly.

“Have no fear of me, Brianna. I will not claim you until you are ready,” he pledged. The candles bathed her in their soft glow. The apricot underdress clung to her lush breasts, her golden hair fell in waves to the carpet. In that moment he knew he lied. By the Splendor of God he
would
claim her if she resisted him overlong.

Her fear of Hawksblood receded, allowing her thoughts to return to Joan. “I am so afraid for her. Joan has a talent for getting herself into trouble. They will never allow Prince Edward to marry her.”

“Never is a long time,” he said mysteriously. “However, they are aware they cannot marry, aware they cannot even be seen together; hence the clandestine arrangements.”

“But it is wrong. She cannot give herself to one man when she is betrothed to another!”

“Apparently she can. Brianna, love has its own mystic power. It will not be denied.”

“You mean royalty has its own power that will not be denied,” she flared.

He opened her palm and gazed at it intently. “It is commendable that you wish to protect her, but Edward has had a deep affection for Joan since they were children, and she for him.”

“She will be hurt!” Brianna cried.

“Yes, she will be hurt,” he said quietly. “When you open your heart to love, it makes you vulnerable. It takes courage, but love’s rewards are so glorious, some believe it worth the price of pain.”

She knew his words were directed at her. “It takes more courage to choose between right and wrong, to do the honorable thing,” she insisted.

“One day you will see there is no dishonor in love.” His finger traced a line upon her palm. “You believe your head rules your heart. You are wrong. It does not.”

She snatched her hand from his. “You think yourself clever. You think to plant seeds that will give you power over me.”

“I shall plant my seed in you, Brianna, never doubt it!” he vowed.

She gasped at his carnal words. It was tempting the devil to be alone in his chamber with him. She jumped to her feet. “Let me go!” she cried.

He indicated the door with a lift of his hand. “You are not my prisoner, lady. You are entirely free.”

Desperately, Brianna fled his dark, compelling presence. Free? She didn’t believe for one minute she was free. Not entirely.

Christian longed for Brianna to stay with him this night, but the time was not quite ripe, so he did the next best thing. He called up a vision of her. This Brianna, brimming with love and laughter, was warm and willing. Her face was upturned to him like a flower to the sun. He dipped his head to possess her mouth and thrilled to his very bones at her generous response. She was delightfully playful and
mischievous—insatiably curious and deliciously uninhibited.

She pulled the covers from him and knelt at his side to explore, to touch, to experiment, and yes, to tease and taunt and torment him! She threaded her fingers in the black curls covering his chest and set the tip of her tongue to his male nipples. When they spiked, she took them between sharp white teeth, threatening to bite him, then going beyond pretense to the actual act.

He yelped, grabbed her with mock roughness, and pretended to be fierce with her. She loved it. She pulled his hair, then ran her fingernails over his rib cage and down across his flat belly where the black hair narrowed to a fine line ending at his navel, then starting again directly beneath it, before it formed a thick sable thatch covering his groin. He groaned as she dipped her tongue into his navel, licking delicately like a kitten, then she lifted a long golden tress of her hair and began to tickle the pulsing head of his shaft until he begged for mercy.

“Behave yourself,” he admonished, wanting her to do no such thing. Immediately, she lay down beside him like a sacrificial virgin and covered her nakedness with her golden hair. He came up on one elbow to drink in her loveliness, but when he raised his hand to sweep the silken mass from her she cried out, “No, you can’t use your hands!”

“Change the rules, will you?” he growled, enjoying any and every game she wanted to play. He began by blowing softly, soon disturbing the curls that covered the mounds of her breasts. Her pink nipples ruched and poked up through her gilt tresses. Christian bent to taste them with the tip of his tongue, but was overcome with the need to suck the whole luscious crown into his mouth with a hunger akin to starvation. He moved her tresses aside with his nose, breathing in her intoxicating feminine scent until he was dizzy.

He blew gently upon her rounded mons. His warm breath titillated and aroused her so that she arched up with the pleasuring. The moment she did so, he buried his face in her loveliness. His tongue searched among the tight curls
until it found her pink cleft, then he stroked her over and over until she felt swollen with love.

“What a lovely thing to do to me,” she whispered, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. Brianna began to arch into his mouth, inviting him to plunge deeper. She wrapped her legs about his neck, crying almost incoherently with her need, “More, Christian, please, please.”

His powerful hands held her hips, his long fingers splayed out around her bottom, then his tongue pierced her all the way until suddenly he felt her barrier break and tasted blood upon his tongue. Christian panted, “My God, I just took your virginity!” He was so deeply into the fantasy it had taken on the dimensions of reality. As his sensual vision of Brianna dissolved, he vowed that when the actual time came the hymenal ritual would be completed in a more traditional manner.

Before the gray light of dawn crept up the sky, Edward eased himself from the great bed with the utmost care. Joan was sleeping and he would not disturb her for the double crown of England and France.

He made his way to Hawksblood’s chamber and slipped inside without knocking. Even in his sleep, Christian sensed he was not alone. His sword was in his hand before his eyes opened. “It’s Edward,” the prince said into the dimness. “You won’t be able to leave today.”

Christian knew how difficult it must be for the prince to part with Joan. “I should go,” Christian pointed out.

“I realize that,” Edward conceded, “but Jeanette won’t be able to ride today.”

Hawksblood stood up and pulled on his chausses. “The men will benefit from a little martial combat. I’ll tell the carters not to harness the oxen.”

“Lady Bedford walked in on us last night.”

“Brianna only wants to protect Joan,” Hawksblood assured him.

Edward nodded. “I’ll see you in the quintain yard.”

“Take your time. After breakfast will be soon enough, Sire.” Christian added quietly, “Lock your door.”

Edward turned the key in the lock, knowing he would never be that careless again. He moved toward the bed, then stood transfixed at the picture of his sleeping beauty. She looked so small and young in the big bed. She was the image of a princess from a fairy tale with her silvery hair spread across the pillows and cascading to the carpet. Her lashes lay in crescents upon her cheeks and he imagined dark smudges of fatigue beneath them. He slipped in beside her very gently, not wanting to disturb her, yet unable to resist her fatal allure. She smiled and murmured, “Edward.”

“Hush, love, go back to sleep,” he said softly as he curved his big body about her protectively.

Joan of Kent did not join Brianna until afternoon. The men of Berkhamsted were engaged in military practice and only an occasional servant came into the herb garden where Brianna sat sketching.

“Are you very angry with me?” Joan asked in a small voice.

Brianna shook her head. “Last night I came to apologize for being beastly to you.”

“Are you very shocked?”

“If you had confided in me, I would have warned you against allowing Prince Edward to take advantage of you.”

Joan’s laughter floated out over the sage and saffron. “Brianna, it has taken me forever to persuade Edward to take advantage of me.”

Brianna patted the bench beside her. “Come and sit.” Then she said gently, “The king is negotiating for Margaret of Brabant. Edward will not offer you marriage, Joan.”

“Oh, Brianna, I don’t care about any of that; Edward and I love each other. I don’t want his crown, I want his heart.”

Joan was so endearingly, sweetly naive. Whatever would she do if she conceived? “What if—”

“Brianna,” Joan begged, “please be happy for me.” Joan’s eyes were soft with love now, but before long she might cry a river of tears. Brianna smiled. She could not bring herself to spoil Joan’s happiness.