Leaves On The Wind. Carol Townend
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at a closed shutter. Every fibre of her being was concentrated on the man who stood behind her.
“Judith.”
She felt a light touch on her neck, felt warm hands on her shoulders, turning her, drawing her towards that lean body. He must have cast a spell on her, for the rest of the world faded to nothing.
“Judith.” His hands slid down her arms and his fingers closed over hers.
It was a spell. Her arms tingled, where he’d touched her. Her hands rested quiescent in his. Their eyes locked. Had she been offered all of the gold in King Rufus’s treasury, she could not have broken free.
Their lips drew together, barely touching, but the sensation was so powerful and so unexpected that Judith gasped and drew back. Her eyes were wide and startled. Her hands were still fast in his. She felt no fear.
“That was not so terrible, was it?” Rannulf murmured. A tiny smile hovered on the edge of his mouth.
Judith could not find her voice. She shook her head.
His grip tightened. “Again,” he prompted, and lowered his head.
The charm he had woven was too strong. It was irresistible. Instead of refusing him as she intended, Judith found herself leaning towards him, lifting her mouth to his.
That first kiss had gone some way towards preparing Judith for the havoc Rannulf could create within her. His lips felt warm. The gentle pressure increased. This time she did not pull away. They were standing very close. His hands were firmly linked to hers, his lips were moving gently over her mouth, but that was all. There was no other contact. Their bodies were not touching, but the muscles in her stomach tensed, and a warm, sweet tide of feeling flooded her senses. It made her toes curl. Judith shut her eyes, and her lips began to move in shy, untutored response.
Rannulf lifted his lips from hers. Judith knew her cheeks were burning. She tried to hide her face. But Rannulf caught her by the waist and tugged her towards him. Judith felt stifled. Her knees had gone weak. She barely managed to step towards him.
She could feel his body against hers, from her breasts to her thighs, through the fine materials of their clothes. Slender fingers nudged her chin round. She risked a glance. Green eyes smiled into hers. His face was tender.
She gave a little murmur and hid her face in his shoulder, glad that the weak light must hide her flushed skin. She felt as though she was on fire. She was afraid of what he should read in her eyes, afraid he should see how deeply he had affected her. Afraid he should think…
“Judith?” He sounded concerned.
Cool fingers pushed her chin up. She assumed a calm face. She could not afford to lose control. She must be clear headed.
“Rannulf?” She smiled. But her voice betrayed her, for it cracked. She forced herself to meet his eyes, became uncomfortably aware that one of her arms had found its way around his neck. She dragged it clear, and drew back.
Rannulf caught her hand. He kissed the tips of her fingers. Judith stared, and tried to breathe normally. Even a small kiss like that seemed to burn her skin. She was melting…
She took a hasty pace backwards. She must not let him realise the power he had over her senses. She must put some distance between them.
Rannulf released her without even a murmur. He leaned his shoulders up against the whitewashed walls, and stood watching her. His brows drew together in a frown.
Judith took her bottom lip between her teeth. He looked almost angry.
“Rannulf? What is it?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that? What have I done?”
The frown vanished. Rannulf shrugged. ’Tis not you, my sweet. I’m angry with myself,” he admitted.
“Angry? Why?”
“I should not have kissed you. You need my help. You are bound to respond for fear I might refuse you. I’m sorry.”
Judith took a deep breath. Words still seemed elusive. “Th…there’s no need to apologise,” she told him. “I do trust you.”
Rannulf stood in front of the window, a dark shadow silhouetted by the moonlight. “Do you? I hope you’re not put to the test too soon,” he said.
“Rannulf?” He sounded very cynical.
He moved impatiently. “Forget it.”
Judith opened her mouth.
“Forget it!” he said curtly.
Judith’s mouth snapped shut. She wrapped her arms about her middle.
Rannulf saw her shoulders droop. He gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “Hell’s teeth! I’m sorry, my princess,” he said, making “princess” sound like an endearment this time, so Judith did not mind it. “I’m tired. Let’s try and get some sleep,” he suggested in his old, more gentle voice. He gestured towards the couch. “You must have that, of course. I surmise that your recent accommodation has left you with a need that is greater than mine. Am I right?”
Judith nodded. “The ship was Hell,” she admitted.
“Rest then.”
Too weary to consider where Rannulf would take his rest, Judith staggered to the couch and collapsed on to the downy mattress. She dragged the light sheet over herself, for modesty’s sake, and her eyelids began to droop. Her limbs relaxed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rannulf had returned to kneel in the window seat, gazing out to sea.
She tried to force her mind back over their recent, confusing conversation. He implied she did not trust him. But why? Apart from her brother Saewulf, he was about the only man she did trust. Four years ago her instincts had told her he was trustworthy, and they had not let her down. She yawned and settled herself more comfortably in the bed.
Rannulf heard her. She saw his dark head turn at once in her direction. Judith smiled. She could trust him. He had not deserted her in the Chase. He had come back for her, and had looked for her—had even confronted the Baron for her sake. She knew she could trust him.
Sleep drew her into its healing embrace and the tiny smile remained on her lips.
She was woken by the light touch of Rannulf’s hand in her hair as he lifted a fine strand between his fingers, and measured its length. It seemed perfectly natural that he should be lying propped up on one elbow beside her.
“Good morning. You sleep like a babe,” he commented.
Judith felt very lazy. She was safe and content, and disinclined to move. A dim, grey light proclaimed that dawn was not far off. “Mmm.” Vivid green eyes smiled down at her. He was wide awake. “Didn’t you sleep?” she wondered dreamily.
“I slept. But not as deeply as you.” He shifted his gaze to his fingers which continued playing with her hair.
“You make me feel safe,” she admitted and stretched like a cat.
Slender fingers slid round to her cheek, and idly traced a circle. Judith flushed.
“Safe?” he teased. He was so close she could see the golden flecks dancing in his eyes.
“Aye,” she said huskily, all confusion.
He bent his head and planted a brief kiss on her lips. It was warm and gentle. It was reassuring, and quite without passion. Judith wanted more. She shifted on the couch. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to feel his arms around her. Her hand reached for his.
A bell tinkled in the corridor outside their chamber.
Judith hardly heard it. She’d caught at the sleeve of his robe, and could feel the muscles in his arm. They flexed beneath her touch.
Rannulf had stiffened. He glanced over his shoulder at the barred door. He swore softly. His hand still rested on Judith’s neck, but his eyes showed him to be miles away. Judith frowned, and covered his hand with