Betrayal (Book 2: Time Enough to Love) (14 page)

He lapped at her, each stroke working her frenzied flesh toward that highest peak of pleasure. She began to pant and whimper, anchoring her hands in the bedclothes. Holding on desperately while he stripped away her illusions of self-will.

With a slight movement of his head, he brushed the tip of his tongue over a spot so sensitive her whimpers became sobs of need. Her hips bucked of their own accord, dancing against him in an effort to reach that fleeting moment of absolute pleasure.

He rose swiftly and covered her, his face mere inches from hers. Gasping, still poised on the brink, she stared into eyes black with desire.

“Do you burn for me now, little one?” His low, sensual voice twisted her belly, released a cry from her soul.

“Yes! Yes, I burn, Thomas. I burn for you.” She sobbed with the truth of her need for him.

“And I for you, sweet.” He grasped her head and crushed his mouth against hers, as he thrust into her opening to the hilt.

The vigorous stroke left her breathless and keenly aware of his fullness within her. She shifted, uncomfortably stretched by the size of him.

Thomas groaned and clutched her harder. Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Come with me.”

He began to withdraw and thrust, creating a smooth rhythm that soothed her aching flesh and kindled excitement once again. Soon she writhed like a wanton beneath him, everything forgotten except the drive of his shaft and the throbbing deep within her. She locked her hands round his neck and raised her hips to meet him, thrust for thrust. With each stroke he seemed to move deeper into her very core, until a frenzied need took her. Nothing mattered now except reaching that glorious end.

He increased his strokes to a furious speed. They panted in rhythm until the world narrowed to the upward drive of that pounding pace. And then it was on her—the deep-seated grip and release of her passion that wrenched another cry from her.

“Alyse!” A final push, and Thomas strained against her, the hot gush of his seed pouring into her. Breathing heavily, he slumped atop her, pressing her into the mattress. A few moments later, he grunted and rolled off to lie beside her.

As her breathing calmed, passion receded. And in the emptiness that followed, regret appeared. “Damn you, Thomas.” She turned away from him, more heartsore than ever. To submit to him as was a wife’s duty had been her sole intent. Let him take his pleasure and be done. She had hoped to keep her heart for Geoffrey alone. But he had tricked her into abandoning herself and taking her pleasure with him. Giving a piece of herself to him.

He slid behind her, his body pressed along her back, his arm around her waist. “Of that, sweetheart, you can rest assured. Hell’s fires will certainly make me pay for my sins, though even then I doubt I will repent them.” His breath tickled her ear even as his familiar courtier’s wit eased her distress. Little by little, she relaxed against him.

“I think ’twill be no great hardship to share my bed henceforth, will it, sweet?”

His words shot an arrow of pain toward her heart, but the deed was done. If this act was a betrayal of Geoffrey, so be it. ’Twas just as treacherous of her to withhold herself from Thomas.

She turned toward her husband, about to agree, when the look on his face arrested her words. The glib courtier had gone, leaving in his place a man who gazed at her with a tender regard she had not seen before. From whence had that appeared? Her heart stuttered a beat.

Thomas smoothed her damp hair from her face and dropped a sweet, brief kiss on her lips. “Know that I care for you, little one.”

His words should have comforted her. Instead they sent panic flooding to her soul. How could she accept the pleasures of his bed yet deny him the deeper feeling to which he had just confessed? Who would she betray in the end?

The candle guttered. Wax had pooled then congealed around the candlestick early the next morning when a sharp knock at the chamber door roused Thomas. Blinking sleep away, he tried to sit up, but Alyse had flung her arm over his waist in the abandon of sleep. He hated to move. The delightful sensation of his wife’s breasts pressed against his bare back made it even harder to leave the bed, but the knocking repeated itself more insistently.

“Anon.” The impatient caller would have to wait.

Carefully, he extricated himself from his wife’s warm embrace. He pulled the covers over her still-sleeping form, grabbed his tunic from the floor, and donned it quickly. When he opened the door, two servants stood bearing breakfast.

They swept past him with platters of meat, cheese, and fruit. Thomas gazed at them in amazement. “Whence comes this bounty?”

“We were sent from Her Highness, your lordship,” the first answered as he cleared away the remains of the previous night’s meal. “With instructions to wait upon you and Lady Braeton at each meal until the ship lands in Bordeaux.” The second servant began laying the breakfast even as the other cleared, so in just a few minutes the table once again waited to receive the couple. Thomas stared, amazed at the extent of the princess’s attentions to them, as the two stewards swiftly finished and left the chamber.

He strolled to the table and poured a cup of ale, pondering what this turn of events foretold. They had been placed in seclusion for the next few days, completely confined to their chamber. He glanced toward the bed, but Alyse slumbered on.

Would she take her confinement as a punishment or a boon?

If last night were any indication, confinement would be a poor punishment for him.

Thomas grinned at the wild, sensual memories of their coupling. His member stirred in anticipation at the warm thoughts.

No better than a stag in rut
.

The sheets rustled. He returned his gaze to the sweet form on the bed, now turned away from him. Should he let her sleep?

He had not yet pressed her a second time, though his loins ached with wanting her again. His initial persuasion had succeeded; however, if he would turn her away from thoughts of Geoffrey entirely, he needed to focus her attention on him alone.

Plotting his course, he poured her some ale and headed back to the bed. He set their cups down, doffed the tunic, and slid between the sheets next to her. She roused briefly as his arm went round her. He turned her toward him, and she settled along his side, her arm stealing over his waist again as she drifted back to sleep.

Thomas hugged her close then sipped his ale. Images from last night played in his mind. The sight of her in that blue silk gown had set his long-denied cock to aching. He had had to have her, no matter what. Fifteen years of bedding women had honed his amorous skills—once Alyse had been willing, he had had no doubts he could take her to the heights of pleasure. Her moans, her blushes, her final admission of desire for him had been a very sweet surrender. ’Twould be delightful to repeat that lesson. First, however, he had a confession to make.

* * * *

Alyse awoke, her body pressed against the warm chest of her husband. That idea no longer sent a swirl of panic through her. Their encounter last night had left her body content for the first time in months. Her mind drifted, thinking idly that this time yesterday she had been trembling in fear of Thomas ravishing her. Thank goodness the day had ended better than it had begun.

That thought brought with it one she had tried hardest to banish from her mind: her scene with Geoffrey on the deck yesterday morning. She remembered everything of that encounter, down to the bitter ending. And wondered at the uselessness of their relationship from its very beginning. If Fate had decreed all along that she marry Thomas, why make her suffer the excruciating pain of her love for Geoffrey?

She recalled the days of her wild passion for Thomas, when a mere glance across the Great Hall had filled her with joy. And now... She opened her eyes to gaze at the striking body that lay next to hers. All she had ever wanted, once upon a time. Would it be enough now? Her husband had proved himself a wonderful companion. Quick-witted, thoughtful, kind. Thoroughly skilled in bed, as last night had shown. So why did it matter that her heart was not bound? Mayhap that would come in time. If Thomas’s words last night were true, he had come to have tender feelings for her. Pray God her previous great regard for him would return as well.

She frowned. All concerned would certainly have been happier had she never met Geoffrey Longford at all.

“Do not frown so, my love, lest you scare your husband from his bed,” Thomas teased, stretching his long frame and turning to face her. He kissed the furrowed lines on her forehead, smoothing them out one by one. “Whatever could bring such an unpleasant look to your face, my sweet? Come tell me what it is and let us banish it here forever.”

Alyse hesitated, and Geoffrey’s voice whispered a warning from the past.
Truthfulness can be a two-edged sword in marriage if wielded with too much vigor.
Considering Thomas’s actions yesterday morning, revealing her current doubts would likely not be wise.

“’Tis nothing of importance.” She cast her mind about for a safer reason for her frown. “I was wondering if the princess had meant for me to be completely confined here until we land.”

“And would that truly be such a hardship?” He grinned and slid down beside her. A moment later, he pressed his mouth to hers and an answer became unnecessary.

She finally broke the kiss and smiled. “If I did not know differently, I might think you had plotted with Geoffrey to arrange my confinement.”

Thomas released her and pushed himself into a sitting position, his back against the planks of the wall. “Nay, ’twas no plot of mine to find you in the arms of my best friend.” His jaw jutted out and his lips became a thin, cruel line across his face.

Alyse pulled the sheets around her and sat up. “Do you doubt still that meeting was none of my doing? I assure you ’twas not.” She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers. “Tell me what I can do to convince you of my loyalty. I would not have you forever angered at the mere mention of your friend’s name. Shall I simply refuse to call it again? ’Tis done, sir. I hereby banish it from my thoughts. Henceforth, ’twill not pass my lips.” She pinched her lips together and sat with them pursed. ’Twould bode well if he could be teased out of his sullen mood.

Her gesture drew forth a bark of laughter from him, and she relaxed. A smile flickered across his lips, though his eyes remained grave. “I have never before felt that jealous monster that consumed me when I saw you in Geoffrey’s arms.”

“That is strange to hear, Thomas. I cannot be the first to win your favor?” If the court rumors were true, there had been a lengthy list of prior loves. Alyse had been curious, but never had the courage to ask.

Thomas smiled ruefully but answered her. “Now you try to turn the tables on me, wife, by asking of my former transgressions. But no, though you are not the first to warm my bed, you are only the second woman to touch me deeply.”

Heat flooded her face. “And who was the first?” The monster he had spoken of raked its claws across her heart. Which other lady at court had first claimed his affection? Lady Carlyle?

His face seemed to narrow, as with hidden sorrow. “My wife.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him, confounded. “Your wife?” She could barely whisper the word. He had married before? The thought shook her to her core, as thoughts of his other women had not.

“Aye. ’Twas long ago, when I was but two and twenty. We were married but a year when she died giving birth to my son.”

Her head whirled. Two blows in as many minutes. With an effort, she finally drew enough breath to ask, “You have a son?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nay, God did not even grant me that of her. The babe was stillborn.”

Grief for his loss washed over her. She crawled to his side and put her arms around him possessively. “I am so sorry, my love, for your sadness past.” Alyse paused, torn between the desire to shield him from further hurt and the aching need to know more. Her need won out. “What was her name?”

“Katherine. But I called her Kate.”

“And you never felt the sting of jealousy for her?”

Thomas pondered her question. “Nay, I remember no such outburst as you have inspired in me. However, she came to me from her father’s house and had known no other man. Mayhap, had God granted us more time together, I would have had cause to be jealous.” He paused and his eyes became distant. “For a while after her death, I was ill with grief.” Thomas returned her embrace, holding her fiercely. “You see how well I understood your distress over Geoffrey? I knew how it felt to lose the one person you loved most of all.” He shook his head as though to clear it of the unpleasant thoughts. “‘Not long afterward, I met Geoffrey, and his friendship helped much in those dark days.”

Alyse touched his cheek gently. “As your friendship did me.” She glanced down, not wanting to ask, but needing to know. “You loved her very much?”

For a moment, she did not think he would answer.

“Aye. I did.” Thomas paused, as if deciding how much to tell. “I was besotted with her. We were together all the time because we so loved each other’s company.” He glanced at her then plunged on. “We lived at Knowlton’s Keep, in my solar. You remember the tapestry in that room?”

“The one of Adam and Eve?”

“Aye. My mother had that created as a wedding present, for she said to see the two of us together put her in mind of paradise.”

“Oh.” Alyse could say nothing else. How did one compete with paradise? Then another, more startling thought occurred. “Other than our first night at the Keep, you stayed in…in…”

Her breath caught in her throat as a shiver coursed through her. Did he still love his dead wife? He had spent their nights at the Keep in Kate’s bed, not hers. She tried to slide away from him, uncertain what to think.

He held her fast, however, and continued. “When I saw that room for the first time in five years, I could not help but remember my time there with Kate. I stayed in my old bed deliberately, so that I could remember my life with her.”

Alyse swallowed a lump in her throat. “Did you remember her well?”

“Aye. Lying there at night, I seemed to remember every glance she gave me, every word she spoke to me, every passionate embrace we shared.”

Again she tried to withdraw. It should have meant nothing to her. But it did.

Thomas lifted her face to his. “As I remembered her and my life together, I also thought about how
our
life together might be. And I started to look forward to that life.”

Alyse stared at him incredulously. “You did? With me?”

He gathered her into his arms, squeezing her tightly. “I do, sweet. ’Twill not be what either of us had before. We both need to put the past behind us and forge a future of our own.”

He stared into her eyes and traced the curve of her cheek with a finger. “I did not feel this way when we wed, Alyse. You know that. I have not wanted to care for any woman since Kate died. But the time I have spent in your company has changed my feelings. I swore my service to you in June and my loyalty when we wed. You will always hold a place in my heart.”

“And you in mine.” She laid her head on his broad chest and embraced him passionately.

A new life, in a new land, with this man would be enough.

Let love come as it may. They would find their way together and be content. Pray God they would be so.