The Conqueror's Lady. Terri Brisbin
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these were the only clothes he could wear for now. Poor planning on his part, for the only garments he had lay locked in a chest in Lady Fayth’s room.
He shook his head at his mistake and wrapped his belt around his waist, positioning his scabbard where he could reach it easily. Then he pulled on his boots and left the small chamber, using a set of back steps he found to get to the upper floor of the keep. Standing before the lady’s chambers, he found the two guards as he’d left them.
Well, except for the metal hinges in their hands.
‘A gift from Brice, my lord.’
Giles accepted Brice’s gift and smiled. Brice could get in or out of any place, release any lock or find the weakness in any device. Without the hinges, the door could be manoeuvred out from under the bar. With the help of the guards, he did just that and it allowed him entrance with little noise. He waited while the door was placed against the frame and then walked over to the bed.
In spite of the control she exerted over her actions while awake, Lady Fayth slept with reckless abandonment. Reckless and enticing abandonment, even if still wearing her clothes.
She lay half on her side, half on her back, one arm was thrown to the side and the other lay across her forehead, blocking the top of her face from his view. Her legs, though covered by her smock and kirtle, relaxed apart, and the urge grew within him to slide his hand up and explore the area between her thighs. His body tightened as he walked closer and saw that her hair was loose.
She lay on top of most of it, the soft length pillowing around her head with a few loose tendrils softening the look of her face. In the darkened chamber, lit only by the flames in the hearth, it appeared much darker than in the light of day, when it caught the sunlight and blossomed with a multitude of hues of brown and lighter. His hands itched to touch it, to smell it, to rub it against his face and over their bodies as they made love.
Giles shook himself, trying to loosen the grasp of this desire now moving through him. He was no untried boy that his body should react so strongly to a woman. Truly, this woman had not tried to entice or entrance him; instead she’d stood up to him, refused his kindnesses and nearly repudiated his claim to her and these lands. Not the usual bed partner of one of the Breton Bastards, as he and his friends were called.
He walked to the side of the bed and leaned over, giving in to the urge to touch her. With a gentle stroke, he traced down the edge of her chin and her cheek. She murmured in her sleep and seemed to turn into his palm. Holding his breath, he sat carefully on the bed, easing across its surface, and cupped her face in his hand. When she threw her arm away from her head and it landed in his lap, nearly touching his cock, he knew he was lost.
And she slept on.
He almost regretted his pledge to her to withhold relations until she proved she was not carrying a child. Almost. Though it was a near thing when she turned slightly and her lush breasts pressed against the gown she wore. At least the extra fabric in the braies he wore afforded him some relief when his cock grew harder in anticipation.
Drawn to the innocence and the softened expression that sleep brought to her face, he watched as she breathed deeply and evenly. With her cheek still cupped in his hand, he let his thumb slide over her face and touch her lips. They were full and red; he imagined their feel against his. Trying to lessen the urge to take her and claim her, Giles glanced away from her mouth and at her face.
Eyes the color of the darkest forest leaves met his gaze.
Lady Fayth had awakened.
Chapter Four
First Fayth looked at Giles’s eyes, then she seemed to remember where she was and who touched her in such a way. Then she moved, scrambling up and back away from him faster than he thought it possible to move. Within seconds, she knelt against the corner of the bed against the wall in a defensive position, meant to keep anyone at bay. All she needed to complete her formidable pose was a weapon in her hand.
‘You sleep in your gown?’ he asked in a soft voice, trying not to startle her.
‘How did you get in here?’ she asked back, ignoring his jibe completely.
‘Once the hinges were gone—’ he nodded at the doorway ‘—it was simply a matter of lifting the door and the bar out of the way.’ Giles slid from the bed and faced her. ‘Do not bar the door again.’
Her eyes widened in fear at his words or mayhap at the tone he used. When she brushed her hair out of her face, it flowed over her shoulders and down her back in long waves.
‘Come,’ he said, offering her his hand. ‘Take your ease as you wish. Door or no door, you are safe here.’
Now, doubt warred with the fear in her eyes as her gaze moved from him to the doorway and back to the bed. He wondered if she was confused, as waking so suddenly from such a deep sleep could do. Backing a few steps away, he sat in a chair and waited for her to act.
‘You said you would not,’ she began, lowering her voice so that none outside the chamber could hear. ‘You left with your men.’
‘You pushed me from the chamber and barred the door behind me. I could not allow such an insult to go unanswered.’
The fear returned in her gaze and Giles discovered that he did not like it. Anger turned her eyes a flaming green, a shade that sparked with gold, but fear turned them flat and nearly colourless.
‘Is it our joining you fear?’ he asked. ‘Or something else?’
Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away. Was she embarrassed by such frank words? She did not look ready to explain herself to him. Had she, in truth, given herself to Edmund or was this a maiden’s blush?
‘I told you it will not be until I know you carry no one else’s babe, so come away from the wall and seek your rest.’ He motioned with his hand.
‘Why do you insult me so?’ the lady asked as she slid over the bed and climbed off, straightening her gown and shaking it to cover her legs. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in enticing waves. ‘Do you think I hold my honour, and that of my father, with so little respect that I would succumb easily to the desires of the flesh?’
He was out of the chair in a second and standing so close to her that he saw her wobble and nearly lose her balance in trying not to touch him and yet looking up to meet his gaze. Giles watched her eyes widen and her breaths grow shallow as he stood, not moving, not touching, not breathing.
Heat grew between them, around them and within him until he burned from it. Not succumb to the desires of the flesh? From the fear now flashing in her eyes to the shaking of her limbs and the paleness of her skin, he suspected that she had not experienced the fires of passion that could erupt between a man and a woman. It did not mean that she’d not lost her virginity to someone else, but there was much he could show and teach her about desire.
For now, though, a simple lesson would suffice. More than that threatened his tenuous control and he must not allow that to happen … yet. Giles bent his head lower, forcing Fayth to tilt hers more. When he moved his lips so close to hers that he could feel her breath against his skin, he paused.
‘Desires of the flesh, lady?’ he asked, dipping even closer. ‘But there is much to commend those desires.’
Fayth started to object, to explain the true meaning of her words, when his lips—already too close—touched hers. The heat given off by his body intensified with the touch of his mouth to hers and in her confusion, she forgot to close her lips. His tongue, hot and strong, surged into her mouth and sought the touch of hers. Not sure of what to do, she waited, fighting the unbelievable need to throw her arms around him and pull him closer.
Where that desire came from, she knew not, but an urge pulsed through her body then, as his tongue tasted hers, that brought all manner of wicked thoughts and feelings to mind. Fayth could tell he enjoyed the kiss, for he moved closer to her and pressed against her mouth, deepening the simple touch into something more possessive.