A Dishonorable Knight(75)
Elena nodded, the thought of Gareth dying over a simple misunderstanding creasing her brow with worry and fear. "Of course. Richard need not know anything that has gone on these weeks since we were separated from his ranks."
"Thank you," Gareth said softly, seemingly relieved. And yet, Elena could tell he was still greatly bothered by something.
"Are you sure this is the right decision, Gareth?"
He stared at the flame of the candle on the small table, studying its flicker before answering. "It's what I must do."
It's what he must do, Elena thought as she followed his gaze to the hypnotic flame. How cryptic he could be. She thought of returning to England and court life. How she had longed for the luxury and beauty, how--Elena paused in mid-thought. Returning to England meant returning to her fiancé, the Earl of Brackley. Sweet Jesu, she had near forgotten about the horrid man these past few weeks. How would she face him and their forthcoming marriage? Well, she told herself firmly, she would simply have to convince King Richard to call off the marriage. She was one of his favorite ladies-in-waiting and she had served him diligently. Still, a nagging doubt whispered. Suppose the earl has offered him something Richard needs. Monarchs were forever searching for more money, more troops, more promises of support. What if she could not convince the king? What if he forced her to marry that corpulent ogre? Elena shivered and turned back to Gareth. His face was hidden in half-shadows, the meager light sculpting his face, masking all hints of the boyishness she had seen earlier this evening in harsh lines. And yet, she still found him incredibly appealing. There was an intensity about him that radiated strength and ability. He was even more handsome than she had thought. The bald pate and bushy brows of her intended flashed before her eyes. Was she doomed to living her life with an ugly old man, not knowing the joys of love in a young man's strong arms, the sweetness of passion she so often heard of in minstrel's songs?
Without a thought to the consequences, she made her decision. She would know love, she would know it this very night, and be damned with her fiancée!
Her decision made, Elena was suddenly overcome with an unfamiliar sensation: shyness. How should she approach Gareth? What should she say? What if he were to refuse? Deciding to simply follow her instincts, she gently grasped Gareth's chin in her hand and turned it toward her.
"I should go," he began. "You must be exhausted."
Her heart pounding, Elena leaned slowly toward Gareth. She stared at the light bristling of stubble that covered his chin and upper lip. Unlike his dark hair, his beard had gold and copper highlights that glistened in the glow of the candle. As she drew nearer, she caught his faint scent and inhaled deeply. Sweat, leather, the outdoors, and something deliciously musky and spicy that she sensed was just him: these were the smells that she had grown to associate with all that was masculine and attractive in the past weeks.
Gareth shivered when she moved her hand from his chin to brush his stubborn lock of hair from his face. Elena could not bring herself to meet his grey eyes, so she ran her fingers through his thick wavy hair, caressing her way down his neck to his shoulders. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his rough shirt as she took a shaky breath. Leaning forward even more, she closed her eyes lazily as she pressed her lips to his warm mouth. She felt a moment's panic when Gareth did not immediately respond, but all thought quickly left her mind when, in a rush, Gareth dragged her body flush against his. Once again, she had only to initiate the kiss to have him meet her more than half way. Without even realizing she had done so, Elena moaned as Gareth ran his hands up and down her back, the thin chemise heightening the friction rather than diminishing it. He devoured her mouth hungrily, stealing the very breath from her body, before sliding his lips over her smooth cheek to explore the delicate folds of her ear.
Elena dug her nails into his shoulders as she let her head drop back, her neck suddenly too weak to hold the weight of it, although the rest of her body felt light as a feather. Her skin glowed with warmth as if the candle on the table were instead a bonfire, threatening to consume her. Gareth took advantage of her exposed neck to leave a new trail of burning kisses. Elena brought her head up sharply when Gareth's hands swept around her waist and up her midriff to cup her breasts. The sensations his touch sent through her body caused her breathing to come in quick, shallow pants. The rapidly diminishing logical part of her brain realized that Gareth's breathing was just as labored.
Gareth's kisses returned to her mouth as their bodies sank lower on the bed. Without consciously planning to, Elena ran her hands down to Gareth's waist and tugged on his shirt, pulling it out of his breeches and up over his torso and shoulders. Their lips parted for a mere second as Gareth impatiently tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. The pressure of his renewed kisses pushed her fully back on the bed and as he followed her down, he pulled off his chausses.