A Knight Of Her Dreams (Knights of Passion) Read online

  Copyright © 2013, Evie North

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  A KNIGHT OF HER DREAMS by EVIE NORTH

  (KNIGHTS OF PASSION)

  There were five of them, boys, whom Stephen the would-be-king had gathered together for safety. Their fathers were his strongest supporters, lords and barons who had been killed in the battle for the throne between Stephen and his cousin Matilda. He placed them in an orphanage connected to a monastery and there he trained them to grow into knightly warriors. The tattoo upon their arms proclaimed their allegiance to the king and each other, and their determination to win back their destiny.

  A KNIGHT OF HER DREAMS

  (KNIGHTS OF PASSION)

  1151AD

  Lady Rowena closed her eyes in the hot, swaying litter that was carrying her home. Her days at the London royal court had been hectic and it was always nice to see friends, but now she felt rather low. That was because Rowena had loved Lord Wulfrich for what seemed forever and now, finally, it was over. Wolf had found another woman to love, one who obviously loved him, and Rowena must relinquish any hope she’d had in that direction.

  Why did she hold on to her flight of fancy for so long? In her heart she’d always known he was not for her and yet still she’d hoped. Nights spent dreaming of her life with him, days longing for a smile, a glance, a word from him to show he cared.

  Pathetic.

  Rowena shook her head in disgust, capturing the attention of her maid, Nell. For a moment the girl watched her, narrow eyed, before turning back to the curtains that protected them from the dust and the weather, but trapped the heat inside with them. Nell had made a little hole in the heavy cloth and when she put her eye to it she could watch the soldiers of the guard riding by.

  There were times when Rowena wished she was more like Nell. The maid was content with her lot. She laughed when she was happy and cried when she was sad, and when she saw a man she admired then she thought nothing of sharing her bed with him. “Because who knows if I may live to see another day,” was her reply, when Rowena spoke to her about the possible consequences of being so free and easy with her favours.

  Rowena expected Nell thought her cold and unfeeling, perhaps even unable to feel! But it wasn’t true. Rowena’s upbringing had been full of rigid rules and frigid distance, and with very little love, and now she was wed to a much older man who was unable, or unwilling, to bed her. She was lonely and untouched, a beautiful woman with no prospect of being loved unless she found herself a lover.

  Well, her most recent possibility had preferred to love someone else, and the odd thing was she wasn’t all that heartbroken—had she loved him truly after all? Or had she loved the idea and not the man?

  “Lady, you don’t need to be miserable.”

  Rowena turned to her maid, and saw that Nell had given up watching the men at arms go by and now had her attention focussed entirely on her mistress.

  “Don’t I, Nell?”

  “Of course you don’t. Have you thought on what I said when we left home for the court, my lady?”

  “What was that, Nell?” Rowena said pleasantly.

  “For me to find you a man for the night, lady. One glorious night of love. I reckon that would do you for a while.”

  Rowena knew colour was staining her cheeks. Now she remembered that Nell had spoken some nonsense about Rowena needing a man and Nell planning to find just the man she needed. Rowena had played along, bored with her own company and the pretence that she was content with her lot. But she hadn’t meant it. Such a thing was impossible, and she opened her mouth to say so.

  “I found one,” Nell said matter of factly, before Rowena could utter a word. Her dark blue eyes grew wide and she saw the echoing sparkle in the maid’s dark eyes.

  “What do you mean you found one?”

  “A man. The perfect lover for you, my lady. One glorious night, remember?”

  I won’t ask, Rowena told herself firmly. I just won’t ask! But it seemed that her mouth had other ideas. “Who is this man, Nell?”

  Nell grinned, unrepentant. “Oh no, my lady, no telling. You’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll bring him to you tonight to get acquainted.”

  “You will do no such thing!” she gasped. And then once again, as if her blasted tongue had a life of its own, “Do you mean he is here, riding with us? Now? This man? He is out there somewhere?” She waved her hand vaguely at the curtains that surrounded their litter.

  Nell nodded. “Aye, that’s right. And he’s not the sort to blab and boast, my lady, I swear, so you don’t have to worry about that. You’ll see.”

  Rowena swallowed. “Nell, I know you mean well but . . . if my husband were to discover this . . .”

  “He won’t my lady. And don’t you worry, I’ll be there. And if you change your mind then I’ll bed him for you.” She spoke the last in a rush, obviously trying to please her mistress.

  Rowena didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Thank you, Nell,” she said gravely, “but that won’t be necessary. None of it will be necessary,” she added firmly.

  Nell appeared crest-fallen. “But lady, you are not happy. I can see it and it grieves me. You are kind and beautiful and good, and you deserve happiness.”

  Rowena felt tears sting her eyes. Was it so obvious? And what did it matter if she took a man to her bed or not? The idea had planted a warm seed inside her, a tiny glow of longing. Oh if only she was as free as Nell to say yes! But if she were found out then her actions would jeopardise her position, and perhaps even her life. Lord Bigod, her husband, had never shown himself to be a jealous man but he was a cruel man, and Lady Rowena was very aware that if he turned on her she could be cast penniless from the gates. Or worse, taken down to the dungeon where Bigod tormented many a poor soul.

  I don’t care!

  Quite suddenly she felt reckless. She’d always done the right thing, abided by the rules, but now she wanted to do the wrong thing and break the rules. Wolf had found love and she had no one. Why not enjoy one night, one single night, of passion? As Nell had said, one glorious night.

  “Very well, Nell,” she heard herself saying, “I will meet this man you speak of. I don’t promise I will allow him to . . . that is, I may change my mind, but you may bring him to me tonight.”

  Nell’s grin split her face from ear to ear. “Oh yes, my lady!” Her smile turned lascivious. “You won’t regret it.”

  Rowena had bathed and dressed in a loose robe, her hair braided into a long rope at her back. The hostelry was clean but far from luxurious, and her bed was narrow and hard. Well maybe that was just as well, she thought with grim humour. She would not want to spend long cavorting upon it with this stranger. In fact she may not want to cavort at all, and the more time that passed, the more doubts were crowding her head.

  The soft tap on the door made her mouth go dry, but she told herself that it must be one of the hostelry staff bringing her a message from the guard. Or warmed wine to help her sleep?

  And then the door opened and all her thoughts fled.

  She could see Nell behind him, made tiny by his bulk, and she could hear Nell’s words, “Roget wishes to speak with you
, my lady, on a matter most urgent,” but she could make no sense of them.

  Her head was filled with the sight of the man before her, just as he filled the doorway into her room. Broad shoulders and powerful arms beneath the plain brown tunic, his leather sword belt strapped about his narrow waist, lean hips and long muscular legs. Remembering herself, her gaze jerked up toward his face, and found dark eyes gazing down at her, a hint of a smile in them, despite his grave expression.

  “Lady,” he said, his voice sending prickles along her skin. “I have something of importance to discuss with you.”

  She tried to find her voice but it seemed to have lodged in her throat. She managed a jerky nod instead, and turned swiftly, putting distance between them. Behind her she heard the door close.

  “Lady, there is no need for unease,” he said, and he hadn’t come any nearer. “I am your man, heart and body, no matter what passes between us this night.”

  Her man, heart and body? The words, spoken in his low, husky voice, made her melt inside. Rowena gathered her courage and turned to face him, and saw that Nell was gone. They were alone.

  Suddenly she was panicking.

  “I am sorry,” she said in a rush, “but there is a mistake. I never intended . . .”

  “My name is Roget.”

  “Roget?”

  He reached to unfasten his sword belt, slowly, letting it slide from him, before placing it on the chair.

  “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly. “You must not stay. I cannot—”

  “I have been your man for almost a year, lady. How could I not have noticed your beauty? But it is more than that. I have watched your courage in adversity, your grace while you are ignored by your husband, your loneliness when you deserve so much more. I want to please you. I want to make you happy, even if it is only for one night.”

  Rowena knew she should say no, she should push him from the room, and yet his words caught at her heart like jagged fingernails in woollen cloth, and she could not free them.

  He was moving toward her, so big and strong, so handsome with his curling dark hair and smiling mouth, and there was gentleness and tenderness in his eyes, and . . . oh god, there was desire, too. A hot spark of desire for her and her alone.

  “Roget,” she whispered, as his hands came up to cup her cheeks and he bent his head. His breath was warm against her lips and she instinctively leaned toward him, desperate to feel him, to touch him.

  “Beautiful Rowena,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on hers.

  Gentle, at first, but soon becoming almost rough in his desire to possess. And Rowena found she didn’t mind that at all, in fact she was clutching at him roughly herself, her body humming with need and all the unfulfilled longings of all the years she’d been alone.

  His hands were on the tie of her robe, pulling it undone, and she felt the cool night air on her naked body as the garment pooled on the floor at her feet. Just for a moment she hesitated, making up her mind to put a halt to it, but the expression on his face as he gazed upon her almost made her heart stop beating.

  He stepped back, dark eyes caressing her breasts, which swelled and tingled, the tips tightening into hard little buds. His knuckle brushed one and then the other, and she couldn’t help but gasp with the sensation. Her stomach clenched, and she felt herself growing wet between her thighs, something that had never happened to her before.

  He reached to grab hold of his tunic and tugged it swiftly over his head. He was so strong, so sleek and muscular, a man formed by a lifetime of war games and fighting. Naked now apart from his breeches, he moved in again, his hands brushing her skin, stopping to measure the span of her waist with his two big hands, then bending his head to lick at the tips of her breasts, which seemed to beg for the heat of his mouth.

  “Roget,” she whimpered, and his name on her lips was erotic, making her body tremble.

  He dropped to his knees before her.

  Startled, Rowena nearly jumped backwards, but he held her hips to steady her. She found herself gazing the short distance down into his dark eyes, mesmerized by their warm glow, the promise in his face of pleasures to come. And it was as if her body responded to his, the sensation between her legs growing stronger, as if her sex was swelling, making itself more prominent, begging for his touch.

  “You want me, lady,” he purred, and there was male satisfaction in his deep voice. “I can smell your need.” His eyes still on hers, he reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers down over the soft hair on her mound. Rowena quivered, and her breath quickened. Her thighs trembled and she wanted to widen them, give him better access, but she felt suddenly shy.

  Again he seemed to read her mind. “Rowena,” he said, “this is your night. You can do whatever you want to do, and no one will ever know.”

  “You will know,” she whispered shakily.

  “I will have forgotten by morning.”

  She searched his face, looking for the trick, the lie. “Do you swear?”

  He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “I swear.”

  He could be lying, but Rowena didn’t think so. He would keep this to himself, and she could be safe in the knowledge that no one would ever know what had taken place here this night.

  His fingers were back against her mound, but now he was delving within the slick flesh between her legs. He wiggled his way to her clit and brushed it, back and forth, making her shake and arch her back. Now her legs were open, and he bent his head and incredibly she felt his mouth and then his tongue, sliding along her most intimate places, and then inside her, deep into her core.

  Her shaking hands were clutching his head, holding him in place, and she pressed her hips toward his mouth, urging him on, wanting more. His tongue touched the sensitive bud again, and she felt a jolt go through her, heard her voice moaning his name.

  His big hands were clasping her buttocks now, squeezing the flesh, bringing her closer to his mouth and tongue, tilting her so that he had complete access.

  Rowena was going to fall down. The muscles in her legs were trembling, and she felt weak and dizzy with the growing force of her desire. Something was driving her, urging her on, and she could almost see it, almost reach it . . .

  “No,” she whimpered, as he pulled away. She pushed toward him, and he let his fingers run over her swollen nether lips, his mouth tense with his own desire. “Please, Roget . . .”

  “In time, lady,” he growled. “You must be patient.”

  “I-I can’t.”

  He gave a huff of laughter, and then he was standing before her, pulling her toward the bed she had thought so small and hard before, but which now she longed to share with him.

  She sat down, gazing up at him, her breasts rising and falling quickly with each breath. He took her hand and placed it upon his hard belly, and her fingers trembled as she ran them lightly over his warm skin, feeling the rough texture of the hairs that vanished beneath the fastening of his breeches. The cloth was engorged by his cock, and she hesitated, but only for a moment, then she was pulling eagerly at the ties to free him.

  Roget made a sound in his throat, satisfaction and delight, as she reached to touch him, then grasp him, or as much of him as she could manage. The head of his cock was glistening and she ran her fingertip over it, smiling as he groaned. So now it was his turn, she thought. She could make him tremble and beg, too, just as she had.

  Remembering what he had done with his mouth, she leaned to lick at him, and then suck at him. His thick, iron muscled thighs quivered, and his hands tangled in her hair, pulling it free of the neat braid so that it tumbled about her.

  “Lady,” he groaned, “you will kill me.”

  Rowena giggled, something she hadn’t done since she was a child, and then rarely. But she felt light and young and carefree, not at all the grave and proper lady and wife she had been today, and would be again tomorrow.

  He was lifting her, setting her back onto the bed, and a moment later he was between her
thighs, his cock straining to bury itself deep inside her. She felt the brush of the tip against her aching pussy, and pushed back toward him, as eager as he.

  “Lady,” he said, his voice so serious she stilled and looked up into his eyes, even while she wanted nothing more than for him to take her. “Lady, you are a maiden still? Nell

  said . . .”

  Rowena felt herself grow cold. He knew! Blast and damn Nell. What must he think of a woman of her age who was still a virgin? He must believe her so unlovable, so undesirable, that not even her husband would want her.

  “Go away.”

  She pulled herself back, closing her legs tightly, curling her body around itself like something wounded. For a moment she lay, tears trickling down her cheeks beneath her hair, hiding, alone.

  “Lady,” his fingers gently pushed away her hair, and then his lips touched hers through the strands that stuck to her tears. “Lady, you misunderstand. I am glad you are a maiden. I am proud that it will be I who takes you first.”

  Rowena stilled. Did he mean it? Could he really feel like that?

  Slowly she sat up, wiping her face with her hands, wishing she was one of those women who could cry without being ravaged by it. “You do not think me unlovable? Undesirable?”

  His mouth twitched. “Lady, you are perfection itself. Do you really think I could play act this?” and he put his hand on his cock, holding it in his fist. “I want to make you mine. All of you.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, and then he was kissing her mouth, rough and as unstoppable as a storm. She grasped him in her arms, feeling his hard skin beneath her palms, the ripple of muscles as he pushed her back once more on the bed and reared up above her.

  “I want you,” he growled, “but you must agree. I will not have it said I took an unwilling maiden.”

  Rowena gave a half sob, half laugh. “Unwilling, Roget?” But he was serious and she bit her lip and made herself serious too. She said, “I am most willing, sir.”