The Crusader ("The Crusader" Prequel to "Kingdom Come") (28 page)

"What
is this?" he demanded huskily.

He was
fingering her bra. Rory was about to undo the fastens when a brief flash of
sanity reminded her that she had asked Bud to meet her in the square. Whe
looked to her watch and groaned softly.

"No,
Kieran... we can't," she murmured, trying to roll away from him.
"We've got to meet Bud."

He kept
her on the bed, nuzzling her neck. "I would rather do this."

She was
grasping for composure, sucking in her breath sharply when his hot, wet lips
found her earlobe. "No," she grunted in a last show of strength.
"Please, Kieran. We have to see Bud. It's important."

He
raised his head to look at her, his beautiful brown eyes glazed with passion.
"More important than this? It has been at least eight hundred years since
I last had a woman. Would you deny me now?"

There
was something in that question she didn't like. Brow furrowed, she pushed
herself away from him and regained her feet. He rolled onto his side, watching
her with a lazy smile.

"Look,"
she said pointedly. "I don't care how long it's been since you last had a
woman. I'm not here to service you like some whore. I'm not obligated to
relieve your needs in any way, shape or form."

He
raised an eyebrow. "I never said you were. But you said you loved me and I
was allowing you to demonstrate that love."

He
couldn't have possibly said anything worse. Rory stared at him as if she hadn't
heard correctly; then, she whirled on her heel and stormed toward the bathroom.

Kieran
was on his feet before she took two steps. For as large as he was, he was as
agile as a cat and Rory took a swing at him when he tried to stop her. He
easily avoided the blow, grasping both of her hands to prevent from being
further assaulted.

"Why
are you angry with me? I simply said.,.."

"I
heard what you said, you conceited bastard," she snarled, struggling
within his grip. "How dare you twist my words. Words you coerced from me,
no less."

"Hold,
lady," he said with his usual composure. "I did not coerce anything
from you. I merely asked a question; 'twas your choice to answer."

She was
furious. Managing to yank one hand away, she struggled viciously to pull away.
But he refused to let go and she tried to hit him again. Deftly, and quite
calmly, he sidestepped her and spun her around all in the same gesture so that
she ended up facing away from him. Wrapping his massive arms around her body,
he effectively trapped her.

"Now,"
he breathed in her ear. "You will cease this tantrum. I did not mean to
insult you with my factual words and if you were offended, I will apologize.
Surely you sensed my want to exceed your own."

She
calmed somewhat, her brow furrowed with the gist of his words. He had
apologized in an off-handed way and she wasn't sure if she should maintain her
fury or not. Taking deep breaths to steady her furor, as she realized that she
was no match for him physically, the deep breathing also served to ease the
lust rising within her breast as a result of his lips on her ear.

"I'm
still not going to sleep with you," she grumbled, knowing it was a lie. As
easily as she had given in, it wouldn't take much for her to surrender a second
time.

"But
you slept with me last night. I was on the floor and you were...."

She
shook her head in frustration. "No, I didn't mean that. I meant that...
that I won't let you bed me."

He
didn't say anything for a moment, his breath hot on her ear. "But if you
love me...."

Her
anger was on the move again. "Just because I said I love you doesn't mean
I'm willing to have sex at your beck and call. And I refuse to be taken
advantage of by a man who hasn't had a woman in eight hundred years."

He let
her go then and she turned to face him. To her surprise, he looked somewhat
bothered. "You... you believe I would take advantage of the woman who
resurrected me?"

"I
think you would try if I let you," she said softly, eyeing him for a
moment. "And who said I resurrected you? We still don't know what actually
woke you up."

He
turned away, running his fingers through hair that needed to be washed. "I
know," he murmured. "I have always known."

All
thoughts of anger vanished like a puff of smoke. Rory reached out, grabbing him
by the arm for a change. "You have? Good Lord, why didn't you tell
me?"

He
smiled weakly. "I do not know. Mayhap the time was never right," when
she looked particularly puzzled, he gently cupped her chin in one massive palm.
"You awoke me with your kiss, Libby. The alchemist told me that I would
only be awakened by a kiss bestowed from the one who loved me best. And that,
my dear lady, was you."

She was
astonished. "Then you've known all along... I mean, you've known how...
how you awoke?"

He
nodded. "You were right when you said that I belonged to you. I am yours
in more ways than we can possibly comprehend."

Rory
didn't know whether to feel exceptionally embarrassed or incredibly amazed. 
She continued to stare at him, speechless, when he suddenly bent down to kiss
her gently.

"Come
along, Libby," he said softly. "I suspect your Bud is waiting for us
already. Oh… and Libby?"

"Hmm?"
she snapped from her daze. "What?"

"The
showder. I do believe it would be a good idea to bathe when we return."

Her brow
furrowed a moment, accepting her purse when he handed it to her. "If you
are referring to the shower, who did you mean it would be a good idea to bathe;
you or me?"

He
grinned, moving for the door. "Considering I have not had a bath in eight
hundred years, I am sure I could benefit from the use of water. And a shave,
too."

She
slung her purse over her shoulder, following him into the hall. "Then
we'll have to stop at the drugstore and get you some shaving cream and a razor.
Or I think they call it a chemist in England."

"Chemist?"
he cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. "As in al-chemist?"

She
laughed softly. "Good Lord, I hope not. It's just a place where you can
buy personal products like toothpaste, hairbrushes, deodorant and... you don't
understand one thing that I've said, do you?"

He shook
his head ruefully. "Again, you speak too quickly and in terms I cannot comprehend.
Really, Libby, you must show me more consideration."

The
sunlight was bright, fading into late afternoon as they exited the hotel.
Kieran took her hand, holding it tightly, and Rory smiled warmly into his
beautiful, stubbled face. Odd how she didn't seem to recall the anger she had
felt for him earlier, but rather the warmer emotions he so easily evoked.

“I'll
try," she said. 

"You
are exceptionally impolite."

"I
know. And you're a conceited bastard. Doesn't that somehow make us more
compatible?"

He
laughed softly. "Either that, or we shall surely kill one another."

Kissing
her hand, led her off into the sunshine.

***

Kieran
had been right. Bud was already waiting at the square when they approached and Rory
caught sight of him before he saw her. Seating Kieran on a bench and asking him
to give her a moment before joining the conversation, she made her way through
the clusters of tourists and Londoners until she came upon him. Having his back
to her and his hands in his pockets as he urgently scanned the area for Rory's
familiar face, her soft hand on his arm startled the hell out of him.

"Christ!"
Bud exclaimed softly, immediately pulling her into a crushing embrace. "Rory,
honey, are you all right?"

She let
him hold her a moment before pulling away, trying to smile at his pale,
shadowed face. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

"I'm
fine," she assured him. "But you look awful."

He
shrugged weakly. "I never did sleep well in a strange bed," his gaze
licked her from head to toe. "Christ, I'm so glad you're here. Are you
really all right? Have you eaten?"

She
nodded patiently, trying to disengage his iron-grip. "Yes, Bud, I'm really
fine and I've eaten. God, there's so much to tell. So much to..."

He
refused to release her, keeping tight hold on her arm. "I know, honey, I
know. But tell me first; where's Sir Kieran?"

She met
his gaze steadily. "He'll be here in a minute. But I wanted to see you
first, alone. We've got a real problem on our hands."

He shook
his head slowly. "More than you know. Look, honey, Steven Corbin wants to
talk to you. Just talk, ok? He came to see me this morning before I actually
knew you had... oh, hell, where did you store the body?"

She
frowned. "Didn't you hear one word I said, Bud? I didn't store him
anywhere because he doesn't need to be stored.  He's a living, breathing,
walking human being and I've spent the past fifteen hours with him to verify
that fact."

Bud's
expression took on a countenance of incredible sadness, his rough hand coming
up to gently touch her head. After a moment, he sighed. "Listen to me, Rory.
I know how much he meant to you, but all of this stuff about him coming to
life... honey, no matter how badly you wanted such a thing in order to find out
what he did with your crown, it just isn't possible. Maybe those drinks last
night hit you harder than you thought and you've simply been imagining the
whole thing."

Her
tolerance was brittle and she struggled to maintain her composure. "Bud, I
swear to you, I didn't imagine anything. I thought I had at first, of course; I
mean, corpses just don't come to life. It's a scientific impossibility. But
Kieran explained that he wasn't actually dead, only in a suspended state
because of his wound."

Bud's
expression was the supreme example of skepticism. When he should have been
throwing her over his shoulder and heading for the nearest shrink, he found
himself willing to humor her because she seemed to truly believe what she was
saying. Christ, the lengths he wouldn't go to for this woman.

"His
wound?"

She
nodded. "He had been mortally wounded by assassins and sought out a man he
believed to be a physic. But the old guy wasn't a physic at all, but an
alchemist who gave him a potion to put him in some sort of a stasis. And then
he gave him medicines that healed his wound without conventional skills. It's
the most amazing thing I've ever heard."

Bud
sighed heavily; Rory knew the look. He didn't believe a word she was saying and
she put her hands against his chest, pleading with the man inside that was so
desperately in love with her. She knew she shouldn't be cruel by encouraging
that aspect of Bud's psyche, but she had to make him listen somehow. She had to
make him understand.

"Please,
Bud," she said softly. "I'm not making this up. When you see him,
you'll know I'm telling the truth."

He felt
the warmth of her hands against his skin, feeling himself relenting. And the
look in her eyes was enough to weaken him completely. "Oh... hell, Rory.
Are you listening to yourself? How can you ask me to believe something like that?"

She
sighed patiently. "Because it's true. I didn't want to believe it, either,
but it's true. Bud, aren't you the least bit willing to believe that there are
forces at work in the world that we can't possibly comprehend? Like ghosts and
UFO's and reincarnation?"

He shook
his head as if baffled by the entire conversation. "How did we get onto
the subject of UFO's? I'm talking about a knight you stole and a family who
wants him back. In case you haven't realized it, you're in a lot of
trouble."

She
looked at him. Dislodging his grip, she stood back and pondered her next move.
"All right," her voice was strangely hoarse. "So if I stole the
knight, then explain how I carried a two hundred pound body out of the morgue
all by myself?"

"You
told me that you had run into an old friend. You could have had his help."

"The
old friend I was referring to was Kieran. And even if I'd had help, don't you
think someone from the hospital staff would have stopped me? I mean, what would
be more conspicuous than two people carrying a dead body between them?"

Bud's
gaze was equally hard as he met her challenging expression. "You're very
convincing, Rory. You can make anybody do anything you want if you've set your
mind to it."

Her
countenance softened somewhat, her eyes taking on a look of distinct hurt.
"What you mean to say is I'm manipulative."

He
cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, you are. But I've ignored that aspect of your
personality because you have so many other good qualities."

Rory
maintained his gaze a moment longer before looking away, feeling entirely
rotten. After a moment, she sighed. "I'm not manipulative on purpose, Bud.
I guess... I guess I have more of my mother in me that I care to admit. I see
how she deals with people and I do the same thing. She's bold and aggressive,
and I try to be, too."