and restore some order to their appearance, he only held her selfishly tight to his loins.
“You are a poor influence on a man’s willpower, madam.”
Servanne kept her smile hidden. “You are no salvation yourself, my lord wolf’s head.”
“Still, you have been gone far too long from your chambers,” he said gently. “Someone may discover the absence and sound an alarm. Come,” he said, kissing her as he lifted her off his thighs, “I will render what clumsy assistance I can to help bring order back to your appearance.”
Servanne stood, her long legs as weak and wobbly as those of a newborn doe. Lucien, still on his knees, reached out a hand to steady her, and try as he might, he could not stop himself from drawing her slowly toward him, his sigh almost one of impotent frustration as he laid his cheek against her breast. His arms encircled her waist and for a moment the pain and uncertainty was so stark on his face, it caused a fresh surge of tears to catch in her throat. He was always so sure of himself, so arrogant, so proud and seemingly invincible; the shock of seeing his sudden vulnerability, of knowing she was the cause of it, made Servanne bury her hands in his hair and bow her lips to the chestnut waves.
“I am no longer afraid, Lucien,” she whispered. “You have come to win justice and I know now you cannot fail. You will not fail. I asked you to share your strength with me to give me courage, and you have. Ask me for my heart, my love, my life, and I will gladly give them in return; now and forever.”
The Wolf’s grip remained steadfast a moment longer, then slowly eased. “Forever is a very long time, my lady, and I am no ordinary man, remember? I have cast my lot with demons and dwarfish fiends. This”—he pressed a kiss into the softness of her belly—“is pure devilry. You should therefore fear committing your soul into my keeping.”
“I fear nothing in your arms, my lord. As to my soul, it has not been mine to give these many days now. It was taken in ambush on a greenwood road and no amount of ransom, however dear, will return it to me. I know that now.”
The Wolf rose off his knees, his eyes burning with a renewed glow which she had no difficulty in interpreting. She parted her lips for his kiss—a tender mingling of breaths and tastes and promises. Their tongues spoke in a language of their own, invoking emotions so powerful, so potent, it was with some surprise she felt him hold her gently away.
“There must be no more delays,” he said firmly. “The dangers are inconceivable, the risks untenable. In this, you must obey me, Servanne.”
“Where should I find the strength to obey? Indeed, where shall I find the strength to walk?”
Lucien cupped her chin in his hand. “You shall find it and you shall use it to run, not walk back to the safety of your chambers. There”—he paused long enough to fetch up her gown and straighten it hem from collar—“you shall remain with the door closed and bolted until either Friar or myself come for you.”
“But … the tournament!”
“Plead illness. Plead injury. Plead whatever it takes to win permission for you to remain behind.”
“He will never allow it. Little as I know him, and little as he cares whither I come or go, I know he will want me present in the bower, both to witness his triumph in the lists, and to be on display as his newest possession.”
Lucien had lifted her arms, intending to settle the gown over her head, but at her words, he paused.
“A delay then. Beg only a delay and promise attendance to ease his suspicions. He will be eager to leave early for the common and will not have the patience to wait while you change a soiled gown, or retrieve some forgotten bauble from your chamber. Once he leaves, you can stretch the delay into an absence.”
“You want me so badly out of the way?”
“I want you safe, well out of harm’s way.”
“Once before you sent me away when I would willingly have stayed,” she said softly.
The Wolf took her hands in his and bent his lips to her cool fingers. “I have blamed myself, cursed myself a hundred times for ever having laid a hand on you. I should have seen the danger and stayed away at