“Why…why did you wake me up?” She looked confused. “What are you doing in my room?”
“You are not in your room,” he said warily. “You’re in the forest.”
“The forest?” Seeming dazed, she looked around her. “What am I doing ’ere?”
“You were walking. At such a quick clip that I thought you knew where you were going.”
“I…must ’ave been wandering in my sleep. I do that sometimes.”
Understanding dawned. “You sleepwalk?”
“Yes, since I was a girl…”
She blinked as a droplet landed on her cheek, followed by another. She looked at him, her eyes huge and luminous in the moonlight, her hair free and waving down to her waist. Despite her befuddled state, she looked like a friendly wood faerie, the kind that in children’s stories led lost men to safety.
“It is starting to storm.” Knight stripped off his jacket, putting it around her shoulders as droplets began to pelt them. “We’re too far away from the farmhouse. I saw a place where we can wait out the rain. Come with me?”
He held out his hand. She took it, her small hand curling in his. Together, they ran to find shelter.
11
Fancy awoke with a start. After a disorienting moment, she remembered where she was.
In the hollowed base of an old tree…with Knight. He’d taken her here after waking her from an episode of sleepwalking. Knight was sitting up and she leaning against him. They’d been waiting out the rain and must have dozed off.
Knight had an arm around her, the warmth of his body insulating her from the chill. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, his scent curling in her nostrils. In this cozy den, the rain a hypnotic drumbeat in the background, she felt as if she were in a dream. Suspended in a bubble free of time and earthly constraints.
She raised her head, studying him. The watery pre-dawn light that filtered through the opening limned his strong features. Fascinated, she saw that he had a night beard. The dark scruff added to his dangerous virility and framed his beautiful stern mouth. Longing pierced her, a sweet and urgent ache. He was her hero, and he had once again come to her aid.
She lifted her hand, tracing a finger lightly along his prickly jaw.
His eyes opened, and she found herself staring into fathomless depths. She could have pulled her hand away, but instead she curved her palm around his jaw, feeling the taut leap of muscle. The moment trembled between them.
“I cannot offer you anything.” His voice was deep, strained. “Nothing beyond the moment.”
She knew that, of course. If the choice was between a moment with him or none at all, then she’d already made her choice. Although she was a novice to bodily desire, she felt no shame or fear over it. She trusted her heart to guide her. And it told her that making love with Knight was right, the most natural thing in the world.
“Then let’s make the most o’ the moment,” she whispered.
A primal sound came from him. Then he hauled her onto his lap.
His kisses fell hungrily upon her forehead, her cheeks, and she shuddered not from cold but from yearning. From the molten need that spread from her core and bubbled through her veins. She was hot as a flame, feverish with a lifetime of wanting.
Of waiting for him, her prince…her Knight.
When he captured her earlobe between his teeth, she gasped at the foreign sensation. He drew her sensitive lobe into his mouth, suckling and tonguing. Her woman’s place fluttered and dampened, and she squirmed in his lap. Through her nightdress, she felt the unmistakable proof of his arousal, his thick, hard manhood wedged against her bottom.
She felt dizzy with need. Mad with it. With her longing for this man.
As his lips descended to her throat, she threaded her fingers in his hair. The scrape of his bristle against her skin, the rough silk of his hair between her fingers was an indescribable delight. He lowered her to the bed of moss, pushing his jacket off her shoulders, his hands curving around her breasts. She moaned his name as he thumbed the stiff tips through her nightgown.
“You like that,” he said huskily.
It wasn’t a question, yet she panted, “Yes. Oh yes.”
In the dimness, his eyes had a feral glint. “What about this?”
He lowered his head, and she moaned as he suckled her through the fabric. The worn material was no defense against his hot, licking kiss.