The Warrior's Forbidden Virgin (5 page)

Katherine obeyed, bouncing her weight upon his length until something hot and bold began to awaken within her. Her breathing shuddered, and then he moved his thumb upon the folded flesh above her entrance. “How does that feel?” he asked, gently nudging the hooded opening.

As he caressed it, she cried out, her voice growing pitched as she took him even deeper inside. “It makes me feel like…I need you more.” She rose up against him, and he stopped her movement.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and Katherine held herself halfway impaled upon him. With his thumb, he stroked her again, a light pressure that stimulated her arousal even higher.

“And now?” he asked, deepening the touch until she burned for him. She was shivering so intensely, she could hardly bear it.

“Too much,” she moaned, and he backed off, changing the tempo until it was softer. She let him experiment, and something built up within her, a wave of need so strong that she could scarcely stand it.

He kept up his rhythm, urging her closer until her body seized up with the fierce release. She bucked against his erection, half sobbing as he surged deep inside.

Rolling her over, Ademar filled her, again and again. She crested the wave, meeting his strokes with her hips until another wave of ecstasy ripped through her. He drove inside a few more times, until a groan escaped him, then he laid atop her, exhausted.

She felt a wetness against her womb, the evidence of his seed. As she clasped him to her body, she kissed his cheeks, his face. Anywhere.

Still inside her, he touched his nose to hers. “I’m not very good at this.”

“I didn’t notice.” Her lips curved upward, though he could not see it in the darkness.

“I’ll need to practice more. Until I get it right.”

Heavens, she hoped so. “If you insist.”

After that, Ademar was insatiable. He made love to her three more times that night, though Katherine was still sore. The last position had been a delicious one, with him entering her from behind. He had raised her bottom up, forcing her hips up to meet him, while he penetrated her deeply. She had nearly screamed, the pleasure was so intense.

And now, she was naked in his arms while the sun came up. It was time to go, before her father learned where they had gone.

Katherine pressed a kiss on Ademar’s shoulder, daydreaming about him. They would finalize the betrothal, and there were places at Ardennes where they could steal away to be together.

It startled her to realize that she hadn’t thought of Ewan at all. Perhaps it really had been infatuation, instead of love. She’d been so humiliated at his rejection, she hadn’t been able to tell whether it was her pride or her heart that was hurting.

The sound of horses approaching caught her attention. Katherine raised the tent flap and the sunlight pierced her vision. Through the grove of trees, she spied the glint of chain mail.

“Ademar,” she whispered, shaking him awake. She pointed toward the trees, and when his eyes adjusted, she saw the grim look upon his face.

He swore, reaching for his clothes. Katherine dressed quickly, fumbling with the garments and her veil until she was presentable. She packed up their belongings while Ademar went to discover what was happening.

When she reached his side, she paled. Over a dozen men were mounted with John of Ceredys. Two of the soldiers rode forward, their crossbows aimed at them.

Ademar took her hand and rested it upon his dagger grip. Meeting her gaze, he let her know without words that they would fight, if need be.

“What do you want?” Ademar demanded of John.

Lord Ceredys drew his horse closer, a smirk upon his face. “Lady Katherine. I see we have interrupted your tryst.”

She flushed. “Leave us and go back to Ceredys, as my father commanded.”

“Your father’s commands mean nothing to me,” John said softly. Eyeing Ademar, he continued, “And because of your efforts, Lady Honora has gone.”

Ademar smiled, but Katherine saw the rage glittering in his eyes. She’d never seen the knight so furious.

“I was glad to see her rid of you.”

John drew his sword, but before he could strike, Ademar blocked the weapon with his own blade. “Fight me,” he dared.

Although Ademar was at a disadvantage since John was mounted, it had no effect upon his fighting. His sword shifted from his right hand to his left, in a constant movement that John barely managed to defend. She was so engrossed, that she shrieked when two of John’s men grabbed her arms.

She hadn’t even seen them.

“Ademar!” she cried out. His attention jerked in her direction her for a split second, and John struck hard. A scream tore from her throat as she saw Ademar fall to the ground, blood staining John’s sword.

Tears blurred her eyes, and she was hardly aware of the men dragging her atop a horse. Her gaze was focused upon Ademar’s prone form, her mind begging for a miracle.

As they took her, she stared back at him, her heart dull with pain.

Let him be alive. For, God help me, I want to wed him.

The first few days, Katherine had prayed for a rescue. Surely her father would send men. But no one came for her, and even more time went by. Slowly, her fear and grief transformed into anger. John had chained her wrists and ankles to a stone wall within a storage chamber, and what little food she’d received was rancid.

Lord Ceredys intended to use her as a lure for Honora. His obsession with her sister bordered on madness, and he spoke of nothing but bringing Honora back.

As for Ademar, he was likely dead. A broken hollowness seemed to swallow her up at the thought. She had let herself become so caught up in trying to let go of her feelings for Ewan, she hadn’t noticed the way Ademar had slipped inside her heart. Strong and quiet, he had been both her friend and her lover.

It didn’t matter that he struggled to speak. He’d needed no words to show her that he cared. Had he loved her?

Katherine’s throat thickened, and she wished that she could go back and tell him of her own feelings. If somehow, by the grace of God, Ademar had lived, she could think of nothing else but being at his side.

She wanted to wed him, to be a part of his life. Yet, it might be too late for that. Tears swelled within her eyes, but it would do no good to shed them. Right now, she had to find a way out of this prison.

As if in answer to her plea, she heard a soldier’s voice ordering, “Bring her out.”

A guard unlocked her chains, and Katherine struggled against his grip, trying to seize his dagger. He backhanded her, and she stumbled to the ground. With no energy to fight him, her hands were bound, each wrist by a separate rope. He jerked the two ropes behind her back, forcing her out of the storage chamber.

Outside, the sunlight blinded her for a moment. Before she could get her bearings, the soldier lowered a hood over her head. She heard him mount his horse, and he took one of the ropes. A second soldier took the other rope, and they forced her to walk between their horses. Katherine struggled to keep from stumbling, unable to see anything.

After a few minutes, she heard the screeching of seagulls and the rhythmic sounds of waves. Her heartbeat quickened. Was Lord Ceredys planning to drown her?

The guards kept her a distance away, and she heard John’s voice, along with a woman’s. Oh sweet Virgin, it was her sister. She’d thought Honora had escaped.

“Who is your prisoner?” Honora called out.

And then John laughed harshly. “Someone who tried to rescue you. A fool.”

A moment later, the hood was ripped away. Katherine blinked in the fierce light before she saw the terrified face of her sister.

Ademar couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. Though every instinct screamed for him to ride after Katherine, he forced himself to return to Ardennes.

He’d narrowly missed his own death. When he’d seen John’s sword slicing toward him, he’d thrown himself to the ground, letting the blade cut through the top of his shoulder as he rolled away. His head had struck a rock, and he’d lost consciousness.

Likely the damned stone had saved his life. When he’d awoken, Katherine was gone and his head was caked with blood. It had taken the better part of a day to reach Ardennes, but he’d recruited the baron and fifty of their best fighters.

“If Ceredys has harmed her—” Nicholas of Ardennes began, his voice rigid with fury.

“He dies.” Ademar kept up his pace, matched only by the baron.

“You should have stopped Katherine from following you,” Nicholas continued. “Or better, you should have let Honora go.”

“No woman should travel alone,” Ademar countered.

Lord Ardennes turned crimson. “Honora has defied her responsibilities long enough. I told Ceredys he could bring her back to her dower estates. Never did I suggest that he kidnap her.”

Ademar tried to separate from the baron, to ride ahead of the others. But Nicholas stubbornly kept alongside him.

“What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

“I intend to wed Katherine.” He didn’t ask permission, though it was an expected courtesy. After the nights he’d spent with her, he was not letting her go.

“And what makes you believe I would grant permission for this match?”

“Because she could be carrying my heir.” Without waiting for Lord Ardennes to voice his outrage, Ademar spurred his horse faster. They were almost at Ceredys, near Morecambe Bay. In the distance, he could see the tides moving against the vast sands.

Ademar motioned for the baron to keep his men back. Turning to him, Ademar said, “I may be able to get her out with—without your army.”

“You will have no part in this,” the baron argued. “You may have dishonored her, but I won’t let you risk Katherine’s life.”

There was no dishonor in what had transpired between them. Never would he think of it as such.

“One hour,” Ademar demanded. “And I’ll bring her back.”

Nicholas hesitated, his face tight with uncertainty. He looked as though he’d rather lay siege to the castle, but he also knew that an open attack would bring a greater risk.

At last, he gave a curt nod. “One hour. If you don’t return with my daughter, I will send men to demand her release.”

Ademar slipped inside the castle, only to face an enraged warrior with a shaved head and the stature of a giant. The man extended his sword, and his dark eyes stared into Ademar’s, as though he were eager to kill.

Behind him were almost two dozen armed men—serfs and villagers, from the look of them.

“And who are you?” the giant demanded.

Refusing to be cowed, Ademar rested his hand on his own sword hilt. “I seek Lady Katherine of Ardennes. “Lord Ceredys took—took her prisoner.”

The giant lunged forward with his blade, and Ademar defended the blow, stepping out of range. When his attacker swung again, Ademar switched hands and nicked the giant’s face. “Where is she?”

“Gone. His men took her toward the coast.” The man’s accent was familiar, with a hint of Irish.

Ademar eyed the man closer, his suspicions rising. “You’re a MacEgan, aren’t you?”

The giant’s gaze narrowed. “Trahern MacEgan is my name.”

Ademar lowered his sword, not asking how the man had arrived at Ceredys. “If you are a brother to—to Ewan, then we’ve no—reason to fight.” Gritting his teeth, he finished, “Is he here?” He’d believed both Ewan and Honora had made it to the island of Erin, but perhaps not.

“He went back to the shore to protect Lady Honora. I’m gathering these folk to fight against John. Your Lady Katherine isn’t the only prisoner here.”

“I’ve an army of my own,” Ademar admitted. He gestured in the direction of the trees, where Lord Ardennes and his men were waiting.

Trahern smiled, and there was menace in his expression. “I think John of Ceredys will no longer be lord of this castle.”

Ademar leaned into his horse, thundering toward the coast. Katherine stood midway down the hillside, between two mounted guards, her black hair whipping about her face. Her hands were bound with ropes.

John of Ceredys stood upon the shoreline with Honora, while behind him the tides rose up, the waves tipped with white.

Ademar dismounted, running toward her when he heard Ceredys call out, “Kill her!”

One of the guards held Katherine, gripping her shoulders and arms. The other soldier lifted his own dagger, prepared to stab her.

Ademar wasn’t close enough to stop them. He roared out his frustration, as he stumbled down the hill to her. A hot rage like he’d never known mingled with the fear of losing her. If anything happened to Katherine, he would give up his life to avenge her.

He was in love with her. It didn’t matter if she loved someone else. She had promised to be his. Even if she never felt anything for him but friendship, he would take whatever piece of her heart she was willing to give.

With his hand clenched around his sword hilt, he remembered there was one way she could save herself.

“Katherine, the sword!”

Whether or not she heard him, she fought to free herself, knocking her head against the soldier’s nose. The guard loosened his grip, and Katherine reached for the man’s blade.

Swinging it upward, she knocked the dagger from the other man’s hands. A second later, Ewan MacEgan broke through, killing the two men.

Jealousy ignited within Ademar, that he hadn’t been the one to save her. Damn it all, he should have been there to protect her, not Ewan.

He half expected her to fall into Ewan’s arms. And God help him, he would sooner see the Irishman dead than have him lay a single hand upon Katherine.

Ewan stared at Katherine as though he were stunned at her behavior, but she was speaking to her sister. Ademar didn’t hear the conversation between Katherine and Honora, but he sheathed his weapon and pushed his way toward her.

“Katherine,” he said softly.

She turned, and he could see the wonder dawn in her eyes. He could hardly breathe when she flew into his embrace. Ademar held her so fiercely, he was afraid of hurting her.

“You’re alive,” she breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

She lifted her mouth to his, kissing him. He tasted salt and wiped her tears away, before conquering her mouth with his own.

Mine.

The word of possession made him soften his kiss, and he gripped her tightly. Below, on the beach, Trahern had arrived with the villagers. Behind them were Lord Ardennes’s men.

Surrounded by his enemies, John of Ceredys stepped backwards into the sea water, cursing and making demands of the people.

Ademar covered Katherine’s eyes so she would not see the bloodshed, tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re safe from him,” he told her, when it was finished. “Ceredys won’t harm you or Honora again.”

“Thank God.” Her arms wound around his neck, and when she raised her face to his, he noticed that her face was thinner. The need to take care of her, to ensure that she was all right, overrode any other thoughts.

He kissed her temple, smoothing her veil, then reaching beneath it to the dark silk of her hair. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he swore.

The words tangled up inside, stumbling upon his tongue. “And I—that is, I want to tell you that I-I’ve always—you’re everything I dreamed—”

She covered his mouth with her hand. “Kiss me again, Ademar. I don’t need the words.”

He did, not caring that others were around them watching. She pressed close to him, and at the touch of her body, his desire blazed into life.

“Are you still going…to wed me?” He settled his hands about her waist, hopeful at her answer.

She nodded. “You’re the man I want. Because you love me for who I am.”

“I do.”

She’d guessed the words he couldn’t quite voice. Ademar pulled her into his arms, carrying her up the hill toward his horse. She never tore her gaze from him, and in her eyes, he saw the promise of hope.

“When I thought you were dead, it was as if part of me had been ripped apart,” she said, touching his face with her hands. “I never felt like that with Ewan. I was hurt that he loved Honora, but in the end, he wasn’t the right man for me.”

“And now?” He lifted her in front of him on his horse, still holding her close.

She smiled, kissing him again. “I’ve found the right man. And I’ll never let him go.”

Read Honora St. Leger and Ewan MacEgan’s story (part of the MacEgan Brothers miniseries), in TAMING HER IRISH WARRIOR, available in print and eBook format from Harlequin Historical October 2009.