his command. Would he take her on the pallet? Would it be now? Or as le Govic had tried from behind? The strangest, most unbelievable thing was that she did not fear Thomas doing that, doing this, with him. Indeed, and shamefully, she admitted to herself, she wanted to know the feel of him. The feel of his flesh in her palm. The feel of his hand on her body, holding her breast without the layers of gown and chemise between them.
“Get on the pallet.”
Annora turned and walked to the corner where the pallet was. For a temporary bed in a temporary tent, it looked more than comfortable with its piles of pillows and furs and blankets. ’Twas a king’s tent, so such amenities were to be expected. Once she reached the bedding, she stopped and turned to face Thomas, awaiting his next command. ’Twas something she must accustom herself to if he was to be her master after he won.
“Get on the pallet, Annora,” he repeated in a soft voice.
Should she disrobe first? Did he wish her to remain clothed for this encounter? He nodded his head towards the pallet, so she knelt on it and then sat.
“Your side is against the wall of the tent,” he explained as he approached.
She slid over, pushing the blankets out of her way.
“Lie down.”
No matter how calmly he spoke, it did nothing to ease her worries now. Would he take her virtue as the price of sealing their bargain? Could she even believe he would honor their agreement once he won? Should she trust the word of a traitor? She would learn soon enough. She eased back, sliding one of the pillows behind her head as she did.
“Now, go to sleep,” he said as he tossed her cloak to her.
“I do not understand,” she said. Sitting up, she shook her head. “Have you changed your decision about our arrangement, then?”
“Nay, lady, I have not.”
“Then? Will you not take what I offer you?”
The man lifted his head and stared at the top of the tent, his lips moving, but few sounds escaped. She heard the whispered words calling on the Almighty. He was praying?
She waited on the pallet in respectful silence as he finished, but the words he uttered when he opened his eyes to look at her did not sound like a prayer at all. They sounded like a curse instead. Foul words that no lady, and most men, would not say. But he did. She winced at the awful sound of them.
And he gazed directly at her as he did.
“Annora, lie down and get some rest,” he said. “The morn will come soon enough, and you must be ready to sneak back into the keep if we hope to hide this little escapade and our arrangement from your father’s view.”
“Truly?”
He’d confounded her once more. She did not doubt that he desired her, for she had seen his flesh rise beneath his breeches when she’d made the offer to him. It pressed against the fabric with every word he’d spoken about having her. Even now as she glanced there once again, it remained—
“Annora! Stop staring at my prick!”
First, she covered her eyes, and then she covered her mouth. Never in her life had she behaved in such an indecent manner. And yet, so far in one day at this tournament, she had recklessly kissed a man and let him fondle her, spied on an intimate encounter and seen his...prick, and offered herself and her virtue to a man who had been trying to take it every time they’d met. She stared now at that very same erect flesh right there in front of her.
When she tried to look away and not stare again at the growing size of it, he did the most unexpected thing—he laughed. Oh, but she loved the sound of his laughter. Its deep tones permeated her entire body and warmed her soul. He laughed fully and without reserve, like a man who’d faced death and come out with a new appreciation of life. And hadn’t he done just that? Annora could not help but drop her hands from their futile attempt to shield her gaze and laugh with him.
Chapter Ten
Good God, she was amazing to watch.
When she should have been quaking in terror at the thought of giving up the only thing she could rightfully claim as her own to a man like him, she sat—on his bed—laughing with full abandon. Then, he caught her staring and they