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And I made certain that you are locked in your room.
Good eve. G
A surge of energy rushed through Lucy, and she spun toward the doorway. He must have been watching for her return from the shadows if he knew she was locked in her room.
She cracked her door, peeking out, but the hall was empty and dark, the sconces having been gutted. Stepping out, she closed the door behind her and walked toward the guest quarters, listening to the sleeping palace. The darkness felt thick like the stonewalls flanking her.
Greer must be ahead, somewhere in the shadows. She flew around the corner and gasped as she ran smack into a solid chest.
Chapter Eleven
“At Christmas of Christ many Carols we sing, and give many gifts in the joy of thatKing.”
Thomas Tusser– 16thcentury Englishpoet
Greer’s hand slidup her arms, steadying her. “Is all well?” he asked.
“No,” she said, catching her breath. She raised searching eyes to his. “I cannot sleep.”
“Ye’ve only now returned to your room.”
She stayed close to him, her words soft. “And you know that because you’ve been waiting out here for me.”
He inhaled, the struggle to not pull her against him making it difficult to draw a full breath. “I would not be able to sleep if I didn’t know for certain ye were safe.”
The darkness hid them, and he felt her tremble slightly in his arms. “It seems I distract you when I am near and when I am far,” she said.
He nodded slowly, his gaze on her lush lips as she wet them with the very tip of her tongue. Lucy’s eyes were dark orbs staring up at him. “Ye don’t know what ye do to me, lass, how ye tangle around my every thought.” It was surely curiosity that drew him to her. “Ye are like no other woman.” His hand rose to her cheek, and he slid his thumb across the softness there. “Willing to risk all to save those who have little hope. Clever and courageous.”
She stepped closer so that her breasts and petticoats pressed against him. Could she feel his jack growing rock-hard through all those layers? “You haven’t mentioned beautiful,” she said, a slight teasing in her whisper.
His face bent toward hers, his fingers lightly grasping her chin. “Och but lass, ye are as freshly beautiful as the moon shining on a smooth loch.”
Her lips opened as if she needed more air, and the invitation made his grip on restraint slip. His face dipped down, capturing her lips in a kiss that turned instantly carnal. Slanting against one another, he felt her hands sliding along his chest and dipping lower. He kissed a path across her jaw to her ear. “Your maidenhood and your heart are in jeopardy out here,” Greer whispered.
“They are mine to give, and tonight I give you both,” Lucy said.
He pulled back to look into her face. They breathed hard as they held onto one another in desperate fashion. “Lucy, I—”
She slammed her finger across his lips. “My virginity is too much trouble to keep, so you may have it as a gift. And my heart is made of steel, so you needn’t worry over it.” She reached on tiptoes, her body pressing against him.
His breath caught as she kissed his neck and pulled him down so that he felt her warm, wet mouth capture his earlobe. “Take me right here if you must, but take me this night, Greer.”
Bloody hell. “Come,” he whispered, tugging her hand to follow him, and they hurried on the lightest footfalls down the way he’d come. He’d been given a room on the floor above that belonged to some absent courtier.
Lucy held tightly to his arm as they climbed the stairs, the darkness broken up by periodically lit sconces. She hadn’t had time to disrobe and wore the finery of the party, including her gloves. Would she trust him with her scars tonight? Even when he hadn’t trusted her? She was either incredibly forgiving or as hot and aching as he.
They made the landing, and he swooped under legs, carrying her to his door. He unlocked it with one arm still holding her against him as if to shield her if anyone came upon them. They pushed into the room, and he closed the door. Lucy pushed him back against it, her mouth on his, her fingers pulling up his tunic to reach his bare skin beneath.
“I can’t stop thinking about this,” she said. “How you touched me in the wine room.”
He kissed a path to her small earlobe, breathing in the wild strawberry scent. “I want to explore your sweet spots, lass.”
“I love the words that come from your lips,” she said. His continued kisses, his hands stroking down her back to lift her.
“Unpin me,” she whispered.
“Before the fire.” He led her over to the blaze he’d set before he’d gone to her room. There was a thick fur rug between two chairs. They stood before the dancing flames, so the gold splashes of light warmed the paleness of her face, enhancing the sparkle in her eyes and the pink of her lips. The tip of her tongue came out to wet them, and he felt another surge of want wash through him.
