Jacq's Warlord (9 page)

Finally, she let her feet touch the bottom of the stream. “Monty, you’ll need to turn around again, I’m coming out.” She called out to him, but he wasn’t where she had seen him last. Perhaps he was answering his own call to nature.
Good
. Now she’d have the chance to wring the water out of her chemise.

She pulled the garment over her head, and waded toward the bank. When the water lapped at her midriff, she wrung out the undergarment and slung it over a shoulder.

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Cold to the bone, she strode out of the water toward the warm, dry clothing she’d left behind. A noise behind her startled her. She grabbed for her dress and spun around, holding the fabric to her breasts to shield her naked body.

Her eyes widened and her heart slammed against her rib cage. A full contingent of mounted soldiers stood on the rise above the opposite side of the stream. Dressed in chain mail, they looked larger than life and threatening. She wondered how long they’d been watching her.

What looked like their leader motioned for the others to remain at the top of the embankment, and urged his horse forward, splashing through the stream to halt in front of her. He remained atop his horse, and let his gaze rove over her, from the top of her water-slick hair, pausing at her bared shoulders and the tops of her breasts, before sweeping quickly to her feet.

A slow smile started at one side of his mouth. “Well, well, what have we here?” Ice-blue eyes, so pale they appeared translucent, watched her closely as he waited for her response.

It took all her courage not to draw away from him. She had read enough literature about the cultural mores of the Middle Ages to know that, as an unprotected woman, she was at the mercy of any man.

Jacq straightened her spine and, assuming the haughtiest tone she could manage considering she was naked, she met his challenge. “Do you mind moving along? I’ve just finished my bath and would like to get dressed.”

She felt a shiver of alarm chase down her spine when he and the soldiers across the stream laughed. Where had her “guard” disappeared? Jacq fervently hoped these men weren’t responsible for his absence.

The man dismounted and strode toward her.

Jacq retreated a few steps to keep space between them in case she needed to make a dash for it while she studied her pursuer.

He wasn’t an unhandsome man—quite the contrary. No doubt he was accustomed to women falling at his feet. He had no need to accost a vulnerable woman. The quality of the war accoutrements both he and his horse wore indicated he held some rank and wealth. Hopefully, he was above harassing innocent women.

When he moved toward her, Jacq raised her hand. “Stop! You are under the misapprehension that I’m without protection. Let me warn you that my guard is nearby. He will be back at any moment, and if he finds you here you’ll be sorry.”

His teeth flashed startling white in a wide smile, as he continued to stalk her. “Your

‘guard’ ran like a frightened deer. He’s likely pissing himself in the forest as we speak.”

At least she knew the boy was alive. Her mind raced for a defense, as she continued to step backward to match his approach. When she glanced frantically over her shoulder in search of a weapon, she almost missed the blur of movement in front of her as the blue-eyed menace launched himself toward her.

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She tossed her dress at her assailant’s head, temporarily blinding him. Then spinning out of his path, she swept a foot against his ankles letting his momentum, and the hard shove she gave back, carry him forward to the ground.

From across the stream, laughter broke out among his men.

Her attacker roared his anger as he swiped the garment away from a face made purple with anger, and not nearly so handsome now. “Bitch! You’ll pay for that.”

Jacq turned to run, and slammed hard into the brick wall standing behind her.

Massive arms closed around her immobilizing her, and she reared back to strike this new menace with her forehead, when she heard a familiar voice shout very near her ear, “Cease, woman!”

With a heavy sigh of relief, Jacq peeked around Rufus’ shoulder to see several of his men fanning out behind him. Feeling more than a little shaky at her close call, she rested her forehead against his chest. “Thank God, you came in time.”

After taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heart, she realized he and his men hadn’t moved to chase after her attackers. She raised her head to look into his face, and noticed a tic at the corner of his eye. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the man behind her.

“Um, aren’t you going to do anything about those men?” She wriggled in his arms to let him know he could let go now, but he continued to hold her tight. Suddenly, she realized she was completely nude and more men were arriving at the scene by the moment. “Excuse me, my lord. I don’t suppose you could have someone bring my dress to me, could you?” she said, in a small voice, hating that she was in such a position and hating more that she depended on Rufus to get her out of it.

The tic in the side of his face pulsed faster.

Jacq shivered despite the heat emanating from his body. She became agonizingly aware her nipples were hard little beads brushing against his chest. She ducked her head, her embarrassment growing by the moment. “I’m cold,” she whispered.

His only response was a sharp snort.

A voice beside her said, “Here you are, milady.” Recognizing Monty’s voice, she waved her open hand backward to awkwardly accept her dress.

Rufus’ tight hold made it hard for her to catch her breath. “If you will just let go of me, milord, I’ll slip my dress on.”

His eyes glinted dangerously, as his gaze slid over her face. His arms relaxed, and she took advantage of the small space provided to wriggle her arms outside his hold.

When she pushed against his chest, he let her go.

Almost falling from his abrupt release, she pondered for a moment the best way to dress herself. Her face flamed as she realized twenty men had already seen her in her birthday suit, and it was downright ridiculous at this point to worry about revealing any more. At least his wide body blocked their continued perusal of her front.

Thoroughly embarrassed, she continued to face Rufus, and pulled the dress over her 49

Delilah Devlin & Myla Jackson

head, letting it settle down her body. When she reached to tighten the laces under the arm of her dress, she dared a glance at her rescuer.

He’d been watching her, and his face looked set in stone. “If you are quite finished, madam…” His voice was steady and low, but his lips barely moved as he gritted out his words. “Get yourself back to the tent. We will discuss this incident later.”

All her earlier arguments with herself to proceed with caution flew in the face of her disbelief. She wasn’t budging from this spot. “Now wait a minute, are you mad at me?

You think it’s my fault for being attacked?”

“I said, we’ll discuss this later.” His voice rising, he added, “One more word and I’ll have my men bind you again.”

Laughter sounded behind her. “Rufus, old friend, I beg your pardon.”

Jacq’s jaw dropped when her assailant walked past her to throw an arm around Rufus and slap his shoulder. “I was just having a bit of sport. What man could resist all that mink-tipped glory? If I had known she belonged to you I would have asked you first for her favor. I do so love a little fire in a woman, although, where you found such a great tower of a woman is a mystery.”

Her hands fisted at her sides, and she fought the urge to wipe the cocky smile from his face.

“Percy, that woman rubbed your face in the ground,” Rufus reminded the other man. “All that great size doesn’t make her an easy conquest.”

“There are other ways to conquer a feisty wench,” he replied slyly, and winked at her. “Ah, but can you just imagine the sons a man could breed off her.”

She’d had enough. Jacq started forward to take care of the man herself. “That’s it, you slimy—”

Rufus clapped a rough hand over her mouth and dragged her back to his side. “She doesn’t appear to return your regard, Percy. The woman is my prisoner, and therefore under my protection. I will not have you molesting her.”

“Rufus, you underestimate my charm.” Percy’s smile was more a sneer. “I’ll lay odds I can have her eating from my hand like a kitten in no time.”

Jacq wriggled wildly against Rufus and issued garbled curses from behind the hand smashing down harder against her lips. That bastard Percy obviously needed her to teach him another lesson.
Kitten, my ass!

“This one’s no kitten. She’s more a lioness. You would do well to choose another from among the women in the camp, unless you wish to be made a eunuch.”

Percy’s eyes narrowed. “If she is indeed your prisoner, you’re slipping old man.

You should take better care of your property or it will get away from you.”

“Rest assured, it will not happen again.” Rufus’ grip tightened around Jacq as added emphasis.

Percy gave Jacq a short mocking bow. “I hope to improve our acquaintance later, my dear.” Then he turned to walk back to his horse.

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Jacq kicked out at his retreating figure, enraged that he walked away from assaulting her absolutely unscathed. She managed to open her jaws just a fraction and nipped Rufus’ palm.

“Bloody hell!” he bellowed. “Enough!”

Jacq’s momentary relief at having the hand removed from her face ended quickly.

Rufus ducked low and shoved his shoulder against her stomach, upending her.

With his arm hooked around her legs, he stomped back to the camp.

“Put me down.” She pounded ineffectually against his back. “What is your problem, anyway? Do you feel more the man when you mistreat a woman?”

He ignored her comment and strode on, refusing to loosen his hold.

She tried to kick her feet into his stomach, but he clamped his arm down lower to hold her feet snugly against his body.

The soldiers around them laughed and offered crude suggestions for her punishment.

Jacq reached an arm behind her and, tangling her fingers into his hair, pulled hard.

“Dammit, you virago!” His response was a sharp wallop to her backside. She refused to let go of his hair, and he slapped her again.

A warm, rough hand slipped beneath her skirt and pinched the bare skin of her bottom—hard.

“Yeowch!” Jacq released her hold on his hair. Her derriere smarting, she surrendered to the insult of being carried like a sack of flour for the second time in as many days through the camp. She braced her hands against the small of his back to lean upwards and see how far they’d progressed.

Rufus’ long strides covered the distance rapidly and they were nearing his tent.

Jacq’s breath grew shorter. Whether from the assault of his shoulder embedded in her belly or sheer panic, she couldn’t tell. By his lack of comment since they left the creek, she gauged he was pretty mad, and the last thing she needed was this bubble-brained Neanderthal venting his anger on her person.

Jacq sorted through all the possible excuses she could give for her presence at the stream. Too late.

Without breaking stride, he ducked under the entrance and strode toward the bed, dumping her on top of the furs.

She sat up immediately, fingers curled like talons, aiming for whatever soft parts she could reach, determined he would not find her an easy conquest.

He met her defense handily, lowering himself over her, immobilizing her with his weight and pinning her hands with one of his, high above her head. He was breathing as hard as she was, and the weight of his body pressed her deeply into the bedding. The long ridge of his cock pulsed against her stomach.

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Jacq froze instantly. “You will not find satisfaction from my body.” Her voice shrilled high and thready as hysteria threatened to consume her. She cursed her weakness, but fear was quickly overtaking her earlier outraged bravado. “I swear if you take me, I’ll kill you.”

Her chest heaved against his, and she shut her eyes to block out the sight of him looming over her. She waited in dread for him to begin his assault. But the minutes stretched out, and she cracked her eyes open to see him watching her intently.

“You seem obsessed with rape. Perhaps you protest overmuch because you wish to be taken?” He issued this statement without inflection in his voice. If not for the evidence of his arousal, pressing insistently against her, she would believe him completely unmoved.

He continued to study her.

The heavy oaf would wait until hell froze over before he heard her beg for mercy.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she demanded, tilting her chin in defiance.

“Madam, I am waiting for you to take hold of your senses. Yes, I am aroused, but I’m not beyond control. I would not ravage an unwilling woman. Even a woman who flaunts herself before me.”

Renewed outrage colored her cheeks, but she held her tongue in the interest of caution. After all, he definitely held the advantage here. She hated her vulnerability to this man’s overwhelming strength. She tried to slow her breathing to calm herself and closed her eyes for a moment to gain control.

When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper, and she felt her eyes fill, much to her chagrin. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing but the truth,” he said sharply, and rose off her to stand beside the bed.

He offered his hand.

Reluctantly, she gave him hers, and he tugged her to her feet. She swayed dizzily, bracing herself against his arm for a moment before straightening and turning to face away. He’d already seen too much.

“Who are you and what were you doing on the battlefield yesterday?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she whispered.

If it were possible, his face grew harder. “I cannot return you to where you belong unless you tell me.”

“You haven’t the power to do that even if I did tell you.” She refused to look away from him, hoping he would see the truth in her eyes.