A Knight in Central Park(69)

Joe shook his head, then slipped on his shirt.

“And when he leaves this world of mine for good,” she said, following him across the room, “which I have no doubt he will. I will not mourn the loss of him, for I will know full well that my life is better for having known him. I only wish he felt the same.”

Joe could feel her beside him, like a second shadow, but he didn’t turn about. A lump formed in his throat as he stood there, just stood there, frozen. It irked him to know that she was so much stronger than he was. He took a deep breath and stood tall. Then he turned toward her. “The way I see it,” he said as he fastened the ties on his shirt, “we now have less than two weeks to rescue your sister, which means we don’t have time to lust after one another or discuss how we may or may not feel after I’m gone. Got it?”

He tucked in his shirt.

She gazed into his eyes.

Resisting her was impractical...impossible. He took hold of her shoulders and brought her close, his lips covering hers in a slightly angry, fiery kiss. He was hungry for her, felt as if he’d been imprisoned, starving for her affections for too long.

She leaned into him as he tasted her with a passionate longing that took him by surprise. He’d never longed for a woman as he longed for her. He was quite literally ravenous for her, couldn’t get enough of her, basking in the glory of a mere kiss, intending to remember every detail of her mouth so that he could pull the taste, the texture, and the moment into his dreams at will after he was gone.

He pulled away, drew in a ragged breath, tried to collect himself. She leaned her head against his chest, prompting him to brush his fingers through her hair. He could feel the beat of her heart.

“Got it,” she whispered without looking up, breaking the silence and causing a faint smile to cross his lips.

Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, he turned away from her and went to gather his things. He didn’t dare look back at her, didn’t want to see the emotions on her face, didn’t want to know that she was willing to take whatever he had to offer, knowing full well he would leave in the end.

Footsteps and the sound of the door closing caused him to look over his shoulder. She was gone. If his insides weren’t aching, he would almost believe she’d never come to his room. He sighed. In two weeks he’d be back home. That’s what he needed to focus on. Maybe he’d even have a few treasures to bring back with him; items that would make him eagerly sought after by the Academy.

He had only to fulfill a promise. Fight a small army of armored men and gain entrance to a fortress.

No problem.





Chapter Nineteen



The definition of a beautiful woman is one who loves me.

—Sloan Wilson

Alexandra wasn’t the only woman staring at Sir Joe when he finally sauntered into the main eating area where long trestle tables lined the center of the room. Smoke from the kitchens swept past him and disappeared through the open windows.

The sight of him in dark, well-fitting breeches and a fine cotton shirt with loose sleeves added to his appeal. He stood tall and broad shouldered; his thick, dark hair, verily one of his finest features, had grown quickly and nearly touched his collar.

Alexandra realized he had yet to spot her as she moved toward him, watching with much interest as he went to the warm hearth where Rebecca played quietly with her toy.

As Rebecca moved her baby, which Joe had told her was a “doll“ in modern terms, to and fro, Rebecca had a look of intense concentration on her small face. The armless doll looked more like a dirty rag than anything else, but Rebecca didn’t seem to mind. When Rebecca dared to sneak a glance his way, Sir Joe smiled and gestured toward the doll. “What’s your baby’s name?”

Rebecca glanced at the toy, and then surprised them both by handing it to him.

“Hmmm, yes,” he said, taking the doll gingerly between two fingers, holding it as if it were a dead skunk.

One of the things Alexandra had discovered about Sir Joe was that he was much more sensitive than he liked people to believe. He was keenly aware of one’s feelings, which is why she felt confident he knew what a true gift Rebecca was giving him by allowing him to hold her treasured possession.

Within moments Sir Joe was holding the toy with both hands, examining it carefully, most likely wondering how a child could grow such a fond attachment to a dirty cloth with legs. But even though his nose wrinkled slightly, Alexandra knew he was doing his best not to reveal any disgust he might be feeling. “She’s beautiful,” he said.