The Bargain (6 page)

How hot she felt all of a sudden. "Indeed, I did."

"They should help ease any ache."

She knew what
ache
he spoke of. And now she suffered from yet another ache that had returned with force. The one between her legs. Her cheeks burned and she tried to pull away, but he sat on her gown, trapping her.

She took a sip of wine, wishing he would stop staring at her. He mirrored her movements, drinking from his goblet, watching her over the rim. How she wished he would choke on the wine.

His gaze slipped lower to her breasts. Her stomach twisted as she watched him, an idea forming in her mind. She must leave Braemere as soon as possible. From time to time her mother had asked the healer to make her a special potion to help her sleep. And it worked, for her mother would sleep like the dead.

Aye, mayhap she could add a potion to Renaud's wine.

Renaud's heart hammered like a lad's as he watched Aleysia sip her wine.

Last night he had found paradise in the most unlikely place. A Saxon woman betrothed to a Scot, who had given her body to de Wulf himself in exchange for her brother's well-being.

Though Aleysia had offered herself to Renaud under distress, he did not believe for a minute that she did not enjoy their mating. In truth, she had moaned and met each thrust as though she were a well-practiced whore. Yet she had been a virgin, the evidence of which had been on his cock and on the sheets this morning. Knowing he'd been the first pleased him more than he cared to admit. Even more, he yearned to take her to his bed again.

His father's words of warning had raced through his thoughts since dawn.
Never give your heart to a woman—for she will return it to you with a dagger clean through it.
And his father knew of which he spoke, for his wife, Renaud's own mother, had left her family for another. His father had never forgiven her, not even when she returned years later, heartbroken by the very man she had abandoned her family for.

Renaud still could not forget the anguish on his mother's face when his father rejected her, throwing her out in the rain and telling her she would never see any of them again. She had not tried to contact any of them throughout the years, and he had learned she had died about ten years earlier, a sad, broken woman who had been living in an abbey with a small cloister of nuns. Sadly, even after hearing of her death, his father still had been unable to forgive her, and had insisted her name never be uttered around him.

Pushing aside the painful memories, Renaud smiled down at Aleysia. How flustered she was. Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. It was obvious she hated sitting beside him, and was embarrassed, for no one would be second-guessing their relationship. "What will you do today?" he asked, amazed at her breathtaking beauty. He would have to thank the old servant woman who had found the kirtle for Aleysia. The green of the gown brought out the color of her eyes. How fine she looked in feminine attire. If she were his woman, he would buy her the richest fabrics in the most vibrant colors in which to clothe her slender frame. How he would love to spoil her so. The thought surprised him, even stunned him, for he had never taken to a woman so quickly.

"I would like to go for a ride, and then perhaps see Adelstan."

The fantasy evaporated under her intense stare, and he frowned. Of course she would want to see her brother. She watched him intently, her eyes filled with hope, a tawny brow lifting as she awaited his answer. It was not unreasonable for her to ask to see her twin. After all, she had been true to her word so far. "Aye, but I shall accompany you."

She opened her mouth as though to argue, but closed it just as quickly. "Thank you, my lord."

Aleysia wrinkled her nose as she entered the tower. The large room smelled dank and musty, to the point she fought to catch her breath. The only air came from a small window with large iron bars, which was up too high to see out of. Something scurried out of the corner and Aleysia gasped, placing a hand over her pounding heart.

"Aleysia," Adelstan said, rising from the small cot that had been shoved against a wall.

Aleysia rushed toward her brother, her stomach knotting at the sight of shackles on his wrists and ankles. The skin had already been rubbed raw. "How are you faring?" she asked, hugging him tightly.

"As well as can be expected given the circumstances."

"You are so cold. Do they not give you a blanket?"

"Aye, a scratchy one, but it gives me some warmth. What of you?" Putting her at arm's length, his gaze wandered down her length and up again. He knew she had not worn a gown for years, even though Duncan had requested she do so a time or two.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I am well."

His green eyes questioned what he could not ask.

"Do you get enough to eat?" she asked, hoping to avoid any questions pertaining to Renaud, or why she now wore a gown.

"Aleysia, tell me that you have not done something foolish."

Shame washed over her in waves. If only he knew the truth. "I do what I must."

He looked toward the open door, where Renaud and the guards stood conversing. "You gave yourself to him?" The words were little more than a whisper, but she could hear and see his despair.

"I will do whatever I must to save you."

He cursed under his breath. "I will kill him one day. I swear it."

Aleysia ignored the disturbing image his words caused. Though she disliked the Norman, she did not wish him dead.

"Forgive me for putting you through this. You should have stayed in Scotland. Duncan would have looked after you."

"I came of my own accord, and well you know it. I would have never let you go without me."

He smiled a tiny smile.

She squeezed his hands. "What can I do to help you?"

"There is nothing that can be done. All our men have fled into Scotland and Wales, taking refuge where they can. God willing, they will be safe from Williams tyranny. If the opportunity should arise, I want you to run, sister. Do not look back."

"I will not leave you."

His hold on her tightened. "You must. Forget me. My fate has been decided." She hated the look of defeat in his eyes, and it scared her. Adelstan had given up.

"There is something I have thought of." She lowered her voice. "Do you remember the potion the healer made for Mother's headaches? The one that made her sleep soundly."

Adelstan nodded. "Indeed, Father said she slept like the dead."

"Mayhap I can convince Renaud to let me visit the healer to have her come tend your wounds," she said, nodding toward his raw wrists. "I can ask her to prepare the draught for us, and I will return to get it. When the time is right, I will give the guards a dose and de Wulf as well."

"Think you it would work?"

Hearing the excitement in his voice, she nodded. "If I can gain his trust in the meantime, then we will have a very good chance."

"But what must you do to gain his trust?"

"Nothing that I have not done already."

He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again he looked past her, to the doorway. "What if he discovers the draught? You could ruin your only chance at escape, and they could even hang you. I have seen it done before, Aleysia. We are surrounded by the enemy and you must never forget that. Not for a moment."

"I do not want to live in a world without you, Adelstan. I have lost too much already." She kissed his cheek. "We
will
do this. We will. Soon we will be back in Scotland, growing old together."

His eyes glimmered with renewed hope.

"Aleysia, it is time to take our leave," Renaud said, stepping into the room.

She jumped at the sound of the Normans voice. Surely, he had not heard the two of them discussing their plans? She prayed not. "A moment only," she replied.

Taking her brother's face between her palms, she kissed each cheek. "Stay strong. I shall visit soon."

Adelstan's nostrils flared in his effort to contain his emotions. "God keep you."

Without another word, she turned and walked toward Renaud, taking the hand he held out to her.

CHAPTER 5

He was so quiet.

Too quiet.

Aleysia looked up from her embroidery to find Renaud watching her. He had been sitting in a high-backed chair before the fire, staring into the flames for the past hour, yet just now she had felt his silver gaze boring into her.

Had he overheard her discussion with Adelstan? He had allowed her to go to the healer and ask for her to tend Adelstan's wounds—but he had also sent three guards along to make sure she made it without incident. If he had heard the plan, he would not have allowed her to go to begin with.

The healer, an old woman who had so faithfully served her parents, agreed to tend Adelstan's wrists and ankles. The guards had slipped inside the hut just after she'd asked the old woman about the draught. Thank goodness the healer had readily agreed to help her.

Now all she had to do was wait, and hopefully gain Renaud's trust.

A heavy sigh broke into her thoughts. Renaud ran a hand through his already tousled hair. How restless he seemed. She prayed he did not guess at her treachery.

Her stomach clenched, knowing she flirted with danger, and her brother's life. Unable to stand his intent gaze any longer, she set her embroidery aside and stood.

He shifted in the chair.

She met his gaze boldly, and nodded toward the bed. "My lord, do you wish to join me?"

His expression did not falter, though he did lift a dark brow. "I am not tired."

Fear rippled along her spine as she walked toward him, forcing herself to remain calm.

He watched her approach warily, his gray eyes intense with an emotion she couldn't decipher. Undaunted, she continued, noting that his gaze shifted over her... like a slow caress. Visions of the night spent in his arms raced through her mind, flooding her with warmth.

Going on her knees beside him, she rested her hands on her lap and met his gaze. "Did you have a difficult day, my lord? You seem distracted."

Reaching out, he touched her hair lightly, before his long fingers gently combed through the tresses. "You have beautiful hair, Aleysia. Like silk."

No matter how much she tried to deny it—his touch was like heaven, sending shards of pleasure pulsing throughout her. Already her body responded to his touch. Her nipples sensitive, tightening into small little buds. Even the space between her thighs grew wet and hot.

He lifted a curl to his nose and breathed deeply. "Lavender," he said with a soft smile.

She nodded, wishing he were not so handsome. How old Duncan seemed to her now. In fact, she found it difficult to conjure up her betrothed's image. Would she find the same pleasure in Duncans arms as she had in Renaud's? Were all men the same in
that
way? She did know that Renaud's body was pleasing to look at—both with and without clothing. She could stare at his naked body for hours. For some reason she could not imagine Duncan nude. The very thought made her shudder.

"A man could get lost in your eyes." A moment later his mouth descended on hers, and the next thing she knew, he pulled her onto his lap. His powerful thighs felt rock-hard against the backs of hers.

Desire swept throughout her body as his hand moved down her throat, over her breast, cupping it through the soft material of her gown. His thumb brushed the sensitive nipple, and she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her hip.

Resting a hand against his chest, she felt the mad thumping of his heart, matching the rhythm of her own. Feeling daring, her fingers ventured over his hard stomach and the fine line of hair that trailed down to his impressive cock.
You can do this, Aleysia.

She gasped in surprise when he lightly pinched her nipple; the sensation was not at all unpleasant. In fact, it seemed to heighten her need, and sent a rush of heat to her groin.

Boldly, she slid her hand inside his braies, her fingers brushing over the plum-sized crown of his erection. His sharp intake of breath told her he was surprised by her actions, but he did not stop her. Rather, he guided her by laying his hand over hers, prompting her to grip his length firmly.

The velvety feel of him was in such contrast to the steely length she held, the beating of it matching the rhythm of his heart. And with each stroke of her fingers over him, he grew longer, thicker, harder. She was anxious to experience what she had only just discovered last night. Excitement rushed through her body, making the flesh between her thighs tingle.

He lifted her then, to where she faced him, straddling his thighs. His shaft rose between them—huge, the veins prominent. Her insides contracted.

And though she tried to tell herself she did this to gain his trust, she enjoyed it.

Oh, how she wanted him.

His fingers brushed over her slick, sensitive folds, then one finger slipped inside her while his thumb stroked her hidden pearl. "You're already wet, Aleysia," he said in a husky voice.

Tightening her grip on his cock, she grew more daring, her strokes faster. His breathing grew ragged and he shifted yet again. "I can wait no longer," he said, guiding her above his erection. She sank down on him slowly, inch by inch, his thick length stretching her.

His eyes closed as she settled on him, and he groaned as if in pain. She felt awkward, unsure what to do. Tentatively, she moved, shifting her hips, getting accustomed to the feel of him buried deep inside her. An exquisite ache rippled throughout her body.

Renaud suddenly opened his eyes and her heart missed a beat. His heavy-lidded gaze was so hot and penetrating, he looked as though he could devour her.

Settling his hands back on her hips, he lifted her up, then down, showing her what he wanted... the pace he desired.

Gripping the back of the chair for support, she started to ride him, much in the way she would ride her horse. He dipped his head, kissing the swell of her breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking through the thin material of her gown, using his teeth in a way that made her want to moan with ecstasy.