Captive Rose (48 page)

And I will always
love you
, Leila thought with an aching tightness in her breast.
You will be forever in my heart, Guy de
Warenne
.

She inclined her head, her gaze straying to his sensuous
mouth, and offered no resistance as he tunneled his fingers in her hair and
gently pulled her down to him. She felt a warm whisper of breath and then their
lips met, fervently, passionately . . . his kiss a joyous reunion, hers a
poignant parting.

Yet she realized in that moment that this was what she
wanted. This was how she wanted to say goodbye.

With a wantonness born of her overwhelming desire for
him, she pulled away slightly and ran the moist tip of her tongue boldly across
his lips. She felt a rush of pleasure, knowing she had pleased him, when he
groaned against her mouth.

And, oh, how she wanted to please him! She wanted to
share herself fully with him, to give him what was rightfully his, holding
nothing back!

Leila deepened their kiss, her tongue darting and
teasing as she cradled his
stubbled
jaw in her hands.
She was not surprised when his strong arms flew around her and he crushed her
to his chest, or when he took the lead. He ravaged her with his mouth until she
was breathless and dizzy, and only then did he tear his lips away.

"This must go," Guy demanded hoarsely,
tugging impatiently at her tunic. He wanted her so badly he was prepared to
shred the cloth from her body.

"Then release me and it shall be done," she
murmured,
her violet eyes large and liquid with passion. "And
in a way I think you will enjoy, my lord."

Guy let her go reluctantly and as she seemed to glide away
from him, he marveled at how little he understood her, this exquisite and
baffling woman who was his wife.

He could not comprehend how one moment she could be so
reluctant and wary while in the next she was teasing him to madness. But he was
certain he would understand in time. If she could desire him like this, then
surely one day she would love him as wildly. They had a lifetime to learn to
understand each other.

Guy watched spellbound as Leila began to strip out of
her clothing, not swiftly but in a languorous fashion that made his blood boil
hotter with each passing second.

After removing the silver girdle from around her
slender waist, she caught the embroidered hem of her tunic and dragged it over
her head, exposing a nearly transparent
chainse
that
did little to hide her bewitching curves. With a motion that was enticingly
slow, she began to pull the linen shift up over her body.

Guy wet his lips as her shapely legs were revealed,
slim calves and sleek white thighs, and he caught his breath when her ebony
woman's hair came into view. The
chainse
drifted like
a gossamer mist over a torso that was wondrous in its perfection, over upturned
breasts with hardened, rosy nipples that seemed to plead for his touch.

Guy was in agony by the time she dropped the flimsy
garment to the floor to stand naked before him. He began to work at the
drawstring on his
braies
, the only thing he was
wearing.

"No, my lord. Wait," Leila bade him when she
saw his intent.

She could tell he was aroused from the hungry way he
was looking at her and the provocative swelling beneath his short trousers, but
she wasn't finished yet. She loosened her thick braid with trembling fingers.
She was aroused herself just from the magnificent sight of him. With a light
toss of her head, her long silken tresses rippled around her body like a
crimped veil. She knew how much he loved her hair.

Leila approached the bed slowly, giving herself time to
admire his masculine beauty, which earlier she had done her best to ignore. She
never ceased to be amazed by the massive breadth of his shoulders or the hard
muscles which bound him; she ached to feel their rippling strength beneath her
fingers once more. "Let me, my lord," she insisted when she finally
reached the bed.

Guy did not protest when she pushed his hands away from
the drawstring at his waist and finished untying it for him. Then she began to
pull his
braies
from his hips; he helped her by
lifting his buttocks. She inhaled softly when his manhood sprang free, but she
concentrated for the moment on sliding the trousers carefully from his legs.

"You may sit against those pillows as you are now,"
Leila admonished him gently, climbing onto the bed as she tossed away his
braies
, "or you may lie on your back. But nothing else
because of your wound." When he did not move, his eyes devouring her, she
straddled his hips gracefully and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. She
gasped when he took an aroused nipple into his mouth, but she shook her head
and pushed him back. "No, my lord. Allow me to pleasure you."

She leaned toward him and kissed him deeply then, her
heart thudding painfully. It was hard to forget that everything she was doing
would be for the last time, but she made a brave attempt. She didn't want him
to sense that anything was wrong.

As her lips strayed from his mouth to his throat, her
splayed fingers glided down his hard, ridged stomach. She found what she was
seeking, for his smooth shaft seemed to jump into her hand. When she caressed
away the wetness already on its tip with her thumb, he moaned softly.

"Leila, no. I don't think I can bear—"

"
Shhh
," she
whispered, leaving a trail of tender kisses along his scarred right shoulder.

Tears stung her eyes as memories crowded in upon her,
but she willed them away. She edged her knees backward as she forged a
passionate path down his furred chest, her racing senses reveling in the
familiar taste of his skin and the musky, male scent of him.

Her tongue dipped into his navel and he groaned, his
hips arching slightly. She licked and nipped her way down the dark line of his
hair which she found so erotic and was amazed to recall that she had once
considered body hair offensive.

Even more seductive was the nest of brown curls between
his legs. She enmeshed her fingers in them, her nails lightly grazing the thick
base of his shaft. Guy arched again, more wildly this time, but it was nothing
to when she kissed him up and down the silken length. He cried out her name,
rearing and groaning as she took him fully into her mouth. Using her lips,
tongue, and even her eyelashes, she plied him with all the special techniques
she had been taught.

Leila derived immense satisfaction from his enjoyment
and she intensified her caresses, encircling him with both hands and slowly
pumping. She could taste him upon her tongue, his skin slippery wet, and she
thought fleetingly of the many nights when his mouth had explored the sensitive
recesses of her body until she had screamed with ecstasy. She knew he was close
to climax, but she didn't want him to spurt his seed just yet. She longed to
feel him deep inside her body one last time.

Leila raised her head just as Guy was reaching for her.
His eyes were stormy with passion as he dragged her toward him, his mouth
capturing hers. She gasped when he lifted her hips and impaled her upon his
magnificent erection, and she was not surprised that she was slick and ready
for him. His pleasure had already aroused her beyond measure.

"Now it's my turn, my beautiful, beautiful love,"
Guy whispered jaggedly against her lips. Holding her buttocks, he drove upward
until she was full of him, his throbbing strength and power sheathed in her
body's tight embrace.

Lifting her head, Leila clutched wildly at the pillows,
her fingers digging into them as Guy effortlessly slid her back and forth on
top of him in rhythm with his demanding thrusts.

Each time she moved forward, his tongue was a flicking
flame at her breasts, and she whimpered incoherently at the delicious
combination. It was all sweetness and fire and she closed her eyes tightly,
moaning when the sensations grew too hot, too intense . . .

"Hold me, Guy!" she cried, hovering at the
brink of rapture for the barest instant until she felt him shudder and explode
deep within her, his release igniting her bliss. With lips fused and breaths
merging, together they plummeted headlong into that incredible oblivion.

Long moments later, Leila very slowly relaxed her grip
on the pillows.

Utterly sated, her head resting upon his shoulder and
her body still trembling with echoes of their passion, she could see nothing
through the tangled web of hair covering her face. But in one movement, Guy
swept it from her cheek and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

"Now I know I am yet alive and this is not a
dream," he whispered, tracing the soft curve of her cheekbone.

Leila could have cried out aloud as her false sense of
peace and contentment shattered into sharp, glittering shards, his words
bringing harsh reality crashing in around her.

And with it came pain. Terrible, heart-wrenching pain.
She was being torn in two, her desire to tell him how dearly she loved him
threatening to overwhelm her decision to leave. She knew that if she did not
free herself from his arms quickly, her resolve would vanish. Reluctantly she
began to pull away, but Guy only tightened his embrace.

"Why must you hasten from me, my love?" he
asked, kissing the tip of her nose. "We have the whole afternoon—"

She silenced him with a finger to his lips and adopted
her most
physicianlike
tone, though it was all she
could do to keep her voice steady. "No, my lord. You must rest now. It is
important that you regain your strength, for I doubt you wish to stay abed for
more than a week."

"Indeed I do not." He loosened his hold a
little,
then
seemed to reconsider. His hands moved
caressingly up and down her slender back. "Stay with me awhile longer,
Leila."

She shivered at his touch, recklessly tempted to
linger. Somehow she managed to answer convincingly, "I cannot. I may have
patients waiting for me in the hospital."

Guy frowned, but she knew it was feigned from the amusement
lighting his eyes. "I can see now that I have a rival for your attentions,
my lady." He squeezed her bottom playfully,
then
suddenly sobered. "If it makes you happy, I suppose I can bear it. We will
have tonight."

"Yes," she
lied
, her
heart breaking. "We will have tonight."

Forcing a small smile, she lifted herself from him and
climbed from the bed. She felt his gaze upon her as she dressed hurriedly, and
was grateful for the room's darkness so he wouldn't see how her hands were
shaking. She took another moment to twist her hair into a loose braid, tying
off the end with a ribbon as she walked to the door.

"You are forgetting something, my love."

Leila
spun,
her breath
catching as she met his eyes. Guy smiled at her roguishly. "I would have a
parting kiss. Something to last me until you
return
."

Walking those few steps back to the bed was the hardest
task she had ever undertaken. His warm lips on hers rocked her completely.
After covering him to the waist with the fur blanket, she hurried from the room
without a backward glance, the door shutting behind her with awful finality.

Don't think of it now, Leila told
herself
fiercely, running down the stairs. There will be plenty of time for tears
later. You must think only of your escape.

When she stepped outside the keep, she saw that the sky
had grown dark, the heavy clouds which masked the sun portending a rainstorm.
Wrapping her cloak tightly about her and donning the fur-trimmed hood against
the chill wind, she hurried toward the hospital.

She was relieved to see that there were still some
wagons and two-wheeled carts lined up in front of the grain storehouse, and a
group of de
Warenne
tenants were gathered just
outside the open double doors. It was sowing season for wheat and rye, and an
everyday occurrence for several weeks now to see wagons laden with sacks of
seed rumbling through the gates. If she managed to climb into one of the wagons
without anyone noticing her, she might be thus able to leave the castle.

As Leila passed the large timbered building, her plan
began to look easier than she had imagined. She spied two loaded wagons pulled
up along the side wall which faced the adjacent storehouse. Even better, they
were both covered with canvas—no doubt as a precaution against the threatening
storm—and situated in such a way that they were protected from the view of
anyone crossing the bailey or the castle guards strolling along the
battlements.

Surmising that the drivers were still laughing and
talking with the tenants whose wagons were yet to be filled with grain, Leila
seized her chance.

Her heart thumping nervously, she cut in between the
two storehouses and waited an interminable moment with her back pressed up
against the logged wall to see if she was being followed. When boisterous
laughter carried to her from the front of the building, she knew none of the
tenants had seen her. She rushed to the nearest wagon and was just about to
flip aside the canvas when three little boys dashed around the comer, playing a
merry game of chase. Her hands fell, and she whirled around when she spied
Nicholas at the lead.

"Lady Leila!"

She groaned inwardly at his cry of greeting, wondering
what she was going to say to him as the boys came to a breathless halt in front
of her, almost stumbling over one another. Eyeing her curiously, Nicholas
swiped an errant lock of blond hair from his flushed forehead.

"I—I thought you were napping," she began
lamely.

Nicholas shrugged. "I woke up." He glanced at
the ground, then back at her. "Did you lose something? We could help you
find it." He twisted to look at his friends. "Right?" The two
boys bobbed their heads eagerly.