Page 33 of Lionheart

Vanoradreaded another confrontation with Lionheart. Only tomorrow remained of thethree days Lionheart had given her to decide whether or not Daffid lived. Shecould always flee, but that would be the coward's way out and would solvenaught. Fleeing would not help Daffid, nor would it make her own life anyeasier to bear.

Vanorawent to the kitchen to order Lionheart's bath and food, then slowly ascendedthe stairs to the solar. Alan was with Lionheart, setting out his cleanclothing and helping him disrobe. She stopped short of entering the chamberwhen she noted Lionheart's bare chest and would have fled but that Lionhearthad spied her.

"Enter,"he ordered. "You may leave, Alan," he told his squire. "We willsup after I have bathed."

Servantsarrived with the tub, hot water, soap and drying cloths. They filled the tuband hastened off without looking at Vanora.

"Youmay scrub my back," Lionheart said as he shucked his chausses without ahint of embarrassment.

Her cheeksflaming, Vanora turned away.

"Well,I am waiting."

Vanoradarted a peek over her shoulder, relieved to see Lionheart seated in the tub,his long legs doubled until his knees nearly touched his chin. Gingerlyapproaching the tub, Vanora picked up the soap and applied it to a cloth. Thenshe pressed the cloth against his back and moved it in a circular motion. Shefelt his muscles tense, felt the ripple of awareness that shuddered through himat her touch, and swallowed hard.

"God'stoenails," he growled as he grasped her wrist and dragged her around wherehe could see her. "What are you doing to me, woman?"

"Naught!I am but obeying your orders. Did I hurt you?" she asked sweetly.

He fishedin the water, found the washcloth she had dropped, and pressed it into herhand. "Wash my chest."

Vanora'sfingers closed over the cloth. "Release my wrist."

The momentthe pressure eased, she flung the cloth in Lionheart's face. Then she turnedand fled. Precious time was lost when she unsuccessfully attempted to lift thelatch with her soap-slick hand. When she tried again, her hand was snatchedaway.

Whirling,she came face to face with Lionheart in all his nude glory . . . nude and fullyaroused. She did not want to stare, but she could look nowhere else. If thatwas what he intended to put inside her, she was certain she would not liveto tell the tale.

Herexpression must have conveyed her fear, for Lionheart placed a finger beneathher chin and raised her face to his. "I will be gentle with you, Vanora. Iswear you will enjoy it."

Vanorashook her head. "You will kill me with your weapon."

"Myweapon will give you pleasure." He captured her hand and brought it to hisgroin. "Touch me."

"Icannot." But even as the words left her mouth, her fingers curled aroundhis staff. " 'Tis soft," she murmured, surprised that she was notrepulsed, "yet hard. There is strength beneath the softness."

"Aye,I would show you, Vanora." He removed her hand. "Come lie with me.Let me banish your fears. I swear I will not hurt you."

"Youpromised me three days in which to decide," Vanora whispered, shaken by awave of desire that nearly brought her to her knees.

"Tomorrowis the last day. Why prolong the inevitable? When I leave Cragdon you will befree of me. There are worse things in life than submitting to me."

"Nameone," Vanora challenged.

"Watchingthe execution of your betrothed."

"If Iagree to your terms, will you free Daffid?"

Lionheart'sdark brows shot upward. "Free Daffid?"

"Aye.His execution will serve no purpose. You said yourself that Llewellyn’s armyhas disbanded and is unlikely to pose a threat in the near future."

"Icannot make that promise, but neither will I refuse you out of hand. I willthink on it." He stepped closer, crowding her against the door. "Iwould hear you say the words, Vanora. Tell me you will become my leman."

"Letme speak privately to Daffid and I shall do as you wish."

"Do Ihave your word?"

Shenodded.