A Knight of Passion - By Tarah Scott Page 0,17
will not do.” Dunbar’s gaze shifted to the man. “You understand?”
The warden nodded. “The duchess would simply have me eliminated.”
“Aye.” Dunbar looked back at Bryant. “You will need someone who cannot be so easily…eliminated.”
He was right. Bryant had expected to present himself to the duke from an unshakeable position. Now, he risked not only his life, but Riana’s and Sir Dunbar’s.
“Bring this priest,” Dunbar said.
Riana struggled against Bryant’s hold. “Release me.”
“Hush.” He pulled her closer. “Sir Dunbar, I will not have you—”
The older knight shook his head. “Let us not forget, Her Grace contracted to kill me.”
Riana gasped. Her head swivelled in his direction. Bryant leaned towards her, and she jumped, her gaze jerking up to his.
“Do not fear,” he said. “We know the duchess was using you.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “What say you, good knight? Do you plan to put me into your service as the duchess has?”
Bryant blinked—then rage pounded through him. “Indeed, Lady, you will be in my service.”
Chapter Nine
The iron fingers that gripped Riana’s waist tightened on her flesh.
“If the duke’s men find us here, you will become an inmate in your own prison,” Sir Bryant said to the warden.
The warden addressed the man, “Laurence, bring the priest to the rack room.”
“And if he is not finished with his current business?” Laurence asked.
“Tell him he will have four more deaths to preside over.”
With a quick nod, Laurence turned and disappeared out of the door. The warden took two steps to his desk, opened a drawer, and withdrew a ring of keys.
Riana stiffened. “Bring as many priests as you like. I will not marry you.”
Sir Bryant leaned close. Her pulse jumped at the intensity in the green eyes that stared down at her.
“Your Glen will be safe enough until I can secure his release,” he said.
She gasped. He knew? How?
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Trust me.”
“Trust you? I do not know you.”
He traced a finger along her cheek. “Surely, I am not a complete stranger?”
Riana stared. How was it possible a knight, a man of the world, could be so naïve? “Many men can say the same of me,” she said.
His hand fell away and he nodded without rancour. “Those days are past.” He faced the warden. “With your leave.”
He strode around the desk past them.
Riana’s mind raced. Panic rushed to the surface. “I will not go.”
Sir Bryant shifted and, before she realised his intent, he had hauled her over his shoulder. The warden moved past them and Sir Bryant followed him out of the door.
“How dare you?” Each word was punctuated by his purposeful stride down the corridor. “Put me down,” she growled, and began flailing her legs.
“By God,” he cursed.
His arm clamped down on her legs. A dull slap sounded in unison with an unexpected sting to her arse. She cried out, confused, then realised he had swatted her.
“Beast,” she shouted. They turned a sharp corner and she jerked back, narrowly missing the stone wall. “You will knock me senseless.”
“Mayhap knock some sense into you,” he muttered.
Sir Dunbar laughed. Riana jerked her head up and met his gaze. The old knight lifted a brow.
“Poison would have served you right,” she muttered.
He laughed harder.
The reached narrow stairs that descended in a tight circle. Sir Bryant shifted. She felt herself falling and grabbed for his gambeson He slid her into his arms and pressed her close to his chest. She clung to his neck and buried her face against the warm flesh. His scent, masculine and musky, was just as it had been when their bodies had been entwined, his cock moving in and out of her arse as she bucked against the phallus. He had gripped her waist with an intensity that had startled her. Her heart beat a thunderous rhythm in her ears. Why had he wanted her so badly…why had she wanted him? What did he want with her now?
At last, they reached the bottom, and Riana lifted her head. “Put me down.”
He kept his eyes straight ahead as he continued to follow the warden through a second corridor. They turned another bend and the warden stopped at the door on his right. He unlocked the door, then lifted the sconce from the wall to the right of the door and stepped aside. Sir Bryant entered the darkened cell with Riana in his arms, followed by Sir Dunbar. Light flooded the room when the warden entered, sconce in hand.
Riana squirmed in Sir Bryant’s hold.
“Be still,” he ordered with a squeeze.
“Put me down,”