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“I’m willing to risk it,” he mumbled, closing his eyes partially and lowering his mouth to hers. She seemed to welcome the kiss they shared. He welcomed it and craved more. The warmth from her body so close to his felt alluring. He lifted his hand and gently reached out to caress her shoulder. The contact between them had his senses reeling. Was this the same little girl he once taunted by pulling her braid and hiding frogs in her bed just to make her scream? Now the only screaming he wanted from her was to hear her crying out in ecstasy as he made sweet love to her and brought her to completion.
His head filled with fantasies and all of them involved the two of them in intimate positions. He couldn’t think straight when he was around her. The whole damned thing almost seemed magical sitting on a swing with her in a secret garden. It was almost as if they were having a tryst, and damn if that didn’t excite him. When she didn’t push him away, he swept in for another kiss, this time reaching up with both hands caressing her shoulders with more intent.
“Mmmm,” she said when he pulled away slightly, breaking the connection of their lips. With her eyes closed and her head tilted backward, it exposed her long, smooth neck. She also had a smile on her face – something he didn’t expect to see. God’s eyes, she was alluring. It wasn’t just her beauty that intrigued him. Her spunk and determination were unlike any noblewoman he’d ever met. He liked that.
“Little Willow is all grown up,” he whispered, reaching up to run his fingers against her cheek. He dipped down and kissed her on the neck next, running his hand through her loose tresses. But when his leather wristband snagged in her hair, he tried to get it free, ending up tugging at it in the process.
“Ow!” she said, springing up and pulling away. A few strands of hair clung to his wristband as they snapped by her abrupt movement. She pushed up from the swing. The smile and serene look she’d had on her face moments ago was gone. In its place was a frown and eyes that bore fire. “Conrad the Cur, I can’t believe you’re back to pulling my hair again just like you did when I was eight!”
He should have anticipated the slap that followed.
“God’s eyes, I didn’t do it on purpose.” He jumped up to face her, but she was already halfway to her horse. “Where are you going?” he called out to her back as she picked up her skirts and stormed across the garden. “I thought you wanted to stay here to pay your respects to Imanie.” Conrad rushed after her.
“I’m not the one who needs to show respect, Sir Conrad.” With little effort, she pulled herself up into the saddle. “You wouldn’t know how to treat a lady if your life depended on it.”
With a turn of her horse, she kicked her heels into the animal’s side and left him standing alone in the garden.
“Bid the devil, will this ever get any easier?” he grumbled as he mounted his horse. When Conrad made the deal with Rook to watch over Willow, he had no idea he’d be wasting so much time chasing after her.
* * *
Willow spentmost of the day in the lists watching the noblemen who had come for the festival as they practiced for the competitions that would start on the morrow. She had hoped to spend time with Hazel, but the girl seemed to be sick and wanted to stay in bed the entire day. Willow wasn’t about to stay locked in her room behind closed doors. That was the last place she wanted to be with so many noblemen roaming the castle. But every time she stepped foot outside of her room, Conrad was following her around like her shadow.
Earlier, when she left to visit the garderobe and to warm up her hands by the fire in the great hall, Conrad was there at her side or lurking over her shoulder. Even when she thought she’d managed to lose him when she ducked behind the mews earlier, she looked up to see him watching her from across the courtyard. She felt like a mouse being chased by a cat. She couldn’t make a move without him knowing about it.
She contemplated sneaking away, but to do that she would have to avoid all the activities and she didn’t want to miss anything. Willow had been waiting for this festival since last year and was not going to let Conrad ruin it for her. In the end, she decided her only option was to go places where Conrad could see her. As much as she didn’t like the thought, at least she would be able to mingle with the other nobles.
Conrad’s turn to practice the swordfight came up, and she oddly found herself mesmerized watching him.
He was no longer the lanky, awkward boy she once knew. Back then, he could barely hold a sword let alone swing it without taking out his eye. But now he effortlessly spun the blade around in one hand and brought it back to point at his opponent with accurate precision. Being drawn in, she watched as he challenged Lord Beaufort who was an excellent swordsman. Excitement grew in her belly. Part of her wanted to see him drop his sword. But after kissing him again, part of her secretly hoped he would have the better hand against the earl. “Go,” she said, urging Conrad forward when Beaufort almost managed to unarm him.
“Quite skilled with the sword, isn’t he?”
Startled, Willow looked up, not even realizing Sir Bedivere leaned on the rail of the lists next to her.
“I’ve seen better,” she said, looking down and fingering her bracelet, not wanting to seem smitten with Conrad.
“You have?” That seemed to amuse Bedivere for some reason. “Well then, I’d like to know who you think is a better swordsman than your guardian.”
“My guardian?” She wasn’t sure at first if he meant Conrad or Beaufort since they were both serving as her guardian at the moment.
“He’s not bad for his age. Not bad at all.”
She looked back at the dueling men, realizing Bedivere thought she was supporting the earl. “Oh, the earl. Of course, not. No one is better.”
“If you think so, then you haven’t seen me with my sword in my hand.” He reached out and covered her hand with his in a light squeeze. “Perhaps we can meet somewhere in private a little later? Your chamber?”
Her eyes shot downward. She didn’t like him touching her. It didn’t feel the same as when Conrad did it. When Conrad touched her, she welcomed it because it made her feel all tingly inside. When Sir Bedivere did it, it felt . . . dirty. This man wanted only one thing from her, and it was something she wasn’t willing to give.
“How dare you suggest such a thing,” she spat, pulling her hand away from him.
“All right, my chamber then. Or perhaps a tryst behind the barn is more to your liking?”
“Sir Bedivere, I’m willing to bet you will be very skilled with your sword in your hand just like you said. Only you will be holding your own sword all alone tonight because I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.” She purposely stepped down hard on his foot causing him to flinch and pull his hand off the rail.
Willow picked up her skirts and made her way through the lists with Sir Bedivere following her like a dog in heat. Looking over her shoulder at him, she wasn’t watching where she was going and ran right into someone.
“Going somewhere, Lady Willow?” It was Conrad. He must have seen her leaving the lists and bee-lined it over to her. He breathed heavily from his practice, or perhaps from running over to head her off before she went. His sword was still clutched in his hand. Perspiration beaded his brow. She looked over her shoulder, and Sir Bedivere was smiling at her.
