A Knight in Central Park(10)

“Sir Joe,” she called softly.

He turned and leaned against the doorframe. “What is it now?”

“Thank you. Grandfather said I would find a brave champion to help us, and he was right.”

Something twisted in his gut. To think she thought of him as her champion when all he wanted to do was get her out of his home as quickly as possible. It was more than his conscience could stand. “Is there anything you need?”

No response. Just like that she’d fallen asleep. The woman probably hadn’t slept in a regular bed in months.

He went back to her bedside to turn off the lamp. Strange, he thought as he watched her for a moment, how different she looked from earlier in the day when her hair was matted to her head and dirt covered her face. She was actually pretty in a cute, impish sort of way. With her red hair, small nose, and fine cheekbones, she looked like a fairy princess who’d come right out of a children’s book.

Too bad she was as crazy as a loony bird, he thought as he clicked off the light.





Alexandra bolted upright in bed. Her heart fluttered against her chest. The darkness was literally swallowing her whole. It was eerily quiet.

Where was she?

Her brother needed her. She remembered now. She had to find him. Her feet hit the ground. Pain shot up her leg, but nothing could keep her from seeking out Garrett.

She hobbled across the room, made her way through the door, clawing through the darkness and gulping furiously for air as if she were drowning. The dark terrified her almost as much as the thought of not being able to find her brother.

He needed her. She sensed it.

She felt his very essence as he called for her, leading her up the stairs of some strange, forbidding castle, the floor cold against her feet. Panic choked her as she limped from one room to the next, afraid of what she may or may not find.

And then she saw him...lying on a bed of downy blankets. Up close, she saw Garrett’s dark head of hair peeking from beneath linen sheets. “Thank you, Lord, for keeping him safe,” she whispered as she climbed on top of the layers of soft linens and edged herself closer to his side.

She closed her eyes. She would let Garrett sleep a bit longer, at least until she caught her breath. Then she would take her brother back home where they would both be safe.





Chapter Five



Where there is great love there are always miracles.

—Willa Cather

Yawning, Alexandra peeked sleepily through one eye and then the other, noting the streaks of sunlight coming through the window and hitting the wall just so. As she stretched her arm toward the ceiling, every bone in her body tensed. Something was amiss.

The walls were neither stone nor wattle and daub, but covered with colored parchment instead. She felt a movement upon her chest and stifled a gasp.

Slowly, afraid of what she might see, she peered downward. A hand lay upon her breast. A large masculine hand that rose and fell with each breath she took. Time held still as she turned her head until she was gazing into the sleeping face of Sir Joe.

She had done it again!

She had walked in her sleep. And right into Sir Joe’s bedchamber. She tried not to wake him as she pondered her predicament. Her nose itched and her leg began to cramp.

As if he sensed her dilemma, Sir Joe stirred, pulling her snug against him until her lips were pressed firmly to the hard cords of his neck.

She dared not breathe.

If he found her here in his bed, he would surely throw her out on the streets.

It was not Sir Joe’s fault she walked in her sleep and crawled into his bed.

His stubbled jaw rested on her forehead. He mumbled incoherently for a moment before falling silent again. She was sure he had drifted back to sleep until his fingers began to massage her chest. She never had her breast kneaded in such a way. She sucked in a slow deep breath and determined that Sir Joe smelled nice, like pine-scented soap and the fresh outdoors.

As his hands moved over her body, she stifled a groan at the sensations he awakened in her. Surely this was not how a man was supposed to make a woman feel. Although the men in her time paid her little attention, she was not an inexperienced lass...not completely. She had been kissed more than once, and she would never forget Sir Lionel’s fast and fumbling hands before she was forced to kick him on the shin.

With her face pressed against Sir Joe, she found it hard to take in too many details, but her awkward position did not stop her from seeing well-muscled shoulders. And he had lots of dark curly hairs sprinkled about his chest. She never would have guessed that such a wonderful specimen of a man was hidden beneath those strange garments he wore.