Through The Leaded Glass Read online

Page 15


  “Yes, Alex. Yes. Please… don’t stop…” She ran her palm up the length of him.

  “God’s breath, Kate, what you do to me.” He cupped her face and her body pulsed with the desire she saw there. “I want you.”

  “I know.” She flexed her hand.

  He sucked in a breath. “And you want me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s—”

  “Alex, where are you? I need to ask you—” Nick strode into the room. “Oh. Sorry. I, uh—I’ll come back. Later.”

  Kate jumped off Alex’s thigh, grateful that her knees decided to cooperate. “No, Nick, that’s all right. I, um, have something to do. In my room.”

  Alex touched her arm as she passed. “That you do, Kate. And I’ll help you. Later.”

  That word held so much promise.

  ***

  “What do you want, Nick?” Alex didn’t attempt to take the bite from his words as he returned to the table. His balls ached, his cock throbbed, and the last thing he wanted to do was listen to more of Nick’s surliness.

  “I need to borrow some gold.”

  “How much?”

  Nick named an amount that surprised Alex.

  “I thought Caversham was solvent.”

  Nick’s lips became a thin line. “It is.”

  “Then why?”

  “Will you lend it to me or not?”

  Nick’s refusal to answer was as out of character as the rest of his recent actions. “Do you owe someone, Nick? The king perhaps?”

  Nick snorted. “In a manner of speaking. Look, Alex, will you lend it to me? I’ll pay you back with the rents. You know I will.”

  “Of course, Nick, but does this have anything to do with Isobel?”

  Nick’s shoulders fell and he rubbed his forehead. “Yes.”

  “You love her.”

  Nick snorted. “For what good it does me. Without your help, I’ll never have more to offer than Wexham.”

  “Hence the gold.”

  Nick nodded.

  “Fine. And I’ll speak to Henry on your behalf.”

  Nick dropped his head in his hands. “I wouldn’t normally do this, Alex. I mean, can you believe it? Me? Borrowing—begging—for a woman? Wanting one like this?”

  Alex knew exactly how he felt.

  He sat back. No. This thing with Kate, it was just physical. That was all. Any attractive woman would do—

  Liar.

  He was a liar. She already meant more to him than she should. And he would be a fool to waste what little time they had left—because Kate would go home, if he had to go looking for the damn window himself. He would do that for her, no matter how much it killed him to do so.

  He cleared his throat. “Nick, you’ll have your gold on the morrow. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to see to.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The light from the crescent moon cut through the narrow arrow slits as Alex took the stairs to Kate’s chamber two at a time, the night air doing nothing to cool the blood pounding through his veins.

  He was shaking with want of her. And while he didn’t want to feel this, he was not about to deny it—or her—any longer.

  He put his fingers against her door and pushed.

  It slid open and she stood there, wrapped in a bed fur, backlit by moonlight. Waiting.

  “Alex.” The way she said his name touched his heart and firmed his resolve to find that window.

  It also firmed something else.

  “Are you coming in?”

  He kicked the door shut behind him. “Oh, yes, Kate. I’m coming in.” Divesting himself of his sword, key ring, and the pouch with Calista’s necklace, Alex strode over to her and pulled her into a kiss that left no doubt how “in” he wanted to be.

  She groaned, the sound igniting a fire in his blood. He pulled her closer, wanting her hips against him, cradling him, easing the driving ache Nick had interrupted.

  “Ah, Kate,” he whispered, tasting the smooth skin of her throat. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re pretty spectacular yourself,” she murmured as his hands slid to her nape, angling her head.

  He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, then thrust inside to tangle with hers in a prelude of the movements his body clamored to make. He threaded his fingers through her hair, caressing its silky softness, every quick breath, every whispered sigh only edging him higher. He wanted to take her now, where they stood, but this time, he would be inside her, feel her pulse around him as she came.

  He shoved the fur from her shoulders and dragged her gown up her body, running his hands over the smooth skin of her thighs, her derrière.

  She moved between his legs, her belly pressing against his cock, and Alex growled. “Have a care, Kate, or I can’t be responsible for the consequences.”

  “There won’t be any consequences, Alex.”

  “True, Kate. I’ll protect you.”

  Her mouth lifted at a corner and that breathy laugh he liked escaped. “Oh, really? Is Trojan your middle name?”

  “Trojan?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. Second millennium joke.”

  She skimmed her fingers through his hair and Alex would never admit to anyone that his knees wobbled. Not even to himself.

  “We’ll be all right, Alex. I won’t get pregnant.”

  That word robbed him of his breath. Kate. Pregnant with his child.

  He sucked in air, needing to breathe. The image… it was…

  God’s blood, no. It could not happen.

  “So you are a sooth-sayer?”

  “Funny.” She tugged his hair. “No, just some twenty-first century medicine. Do you really want to discuss this now?”

  “No. Talking isn’t on my mind at the moment.” But a baby—

  He hauled her up against him, needing the distraction.

  And the feel of her body in his arms was definitely a distraction.

  “What I want, Kate, is—” He wrapped her sleek, bare legs around his waist and strode toward the bed. “You, Kate. I want you.”

  “I’m all yours,” she groaned, kissing him every bit as feverishly as he had her.

  He tumbled them back onto the bed, twisting so that he took their fall. Kate sprawled on top of him and Alex hid his smile against her neck. She was his to do with as he wished.

  He could think of many things.

  Kate raised herself up on her palms and flipped her hair back. Her bodice gaped open, tipping small, high breasts with sweet rosy nipples toward him. Kate nipped his nose and Alex remembered to look up, but, by God, it was difficult to do.

  “See something you like?” She shook her shoulders and he loved that she liked to tease.

  “Oh, God, yes, Kate.” Somehow though, all ability to return her jest left him. There was nothing funny about what he was feeling. It was intense, heavy, filling him with such an urge to make her his that it’d scare him if he let it.

  He ran his hands along her thighs, then up her back, pushing her dress higher, lifting her breasts to his mouth.

  “Oh, Lord, Alex,” she panted.

  Liking the sound of that—both her panting and calling him lord—he flicked the tip. She pressed herself further into his mouth. He suckled her, and she groaned, writhing against him, her moist mound throbbing against him. It was almost his undoing.

  He wrapped his legs around hers and rolled them over. Control. He needed to regain some and soon. He framed her face, her eyes fluttering open, the green so deep he could lose himself in them. She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips and it was no use. He took her mouth again, his tongue dancing on hers, licking, tasting; he wanted her too badly to control this.

  He struggled with the ties of her gown, finally ripping through them to get it off of her.

  Kate chuckled and he looked at her. “This amuses you?”

  “No way, Tarzan. This makes me hot.”

  A reference he didn’t comprehend, but its meaning was as clear a
s the desire in her kiss. He grinned and pushed the gown off her other shoulder, down, until her arms were imprisoned at her sides.

  “And this, Kate? Does this make you hot as well?”

  Her eyes widened and her teasing grin turned yearning. She nodded and arched her back. “Oh, God, Alex. Yes.”

  He bent his head, blowing against the moist nipple begging for his attention. “I prefer Lord Alex, but God will do, I suppose.”

  Her laugh mixed with a groan as she strained against her gown. “Please Alex, I want…” Another small moan as his tongue circled her tight nipple. “I need… to touch you.”

  Alex pulled away, sucking gently on the sensitive skin, sending more shivers rippling through her. “All in good time, Kate.” He kissed the underside of a breast. “We’ve got all night.”

  “I think there’s a song in there somewhere,” she moaned as he pulled her gown down to her waist. Kate wiggled her hips to help him, but that sort of help he didn’t need. Anymore and it would end his “all night” boast in seconds. That could not happen. This would be a night she’d never forget. One to carry with her for the next five hundred years.

  He shoved the gown down her legs, sliding down her body with it ‘til he stood at the edge of the bed. His breath caught as moonlight shimmered over her pale skin, caressing her in shadows, her breasts glistening and pert in the cool air. Her stomach fluttered and Alex almost forgot to breathe.

  “Um, Alex? It’s a bit chilly in here.”

  “Then allow me to warm you.” He wrapped his fingers around her ankles, feeling her pulse in the soft spot behind the bone. She might jest, but she was as aroused as he was. He tugged her legs, sliding her down until her knees bent over the edge of the bed.

  Her smile fled as she realized his intention. “Warm me?”

  Alex hid his smile as he knelt before her. She was brazen yet vulnerable, an enticing combination. “Yes, Kate. Warm you. Make you hot.” Her scent filled him, his body humming with desire.

  “Oh, God, Alex,” she muttered as his mouth descended.

  “I keep telling you, Kate.” He blew on her curls. “It’s Lord Alex.” Her response got lost in a long moan as Alex set himself to the act of pleasuring her.

  He licked and suckled, hard, then feather light. Quickly, then slowly, long strokes of his tongue on every part of her, tasting, pleasuring both of them with this one act. When she squirmed against him, he caught her hips, holding her still, at his command. She groaned into the quiet night and Alex rewarded her with the thrust of his tongue inside her.

  She bucked and her core swelled, moist and glistening from her and from him. He spread her legs wider to feel every beat of desire as it surged through her, and slipped a finger inside. Then two, her core clenching around him. She gasped and gripped his hair, pulling him into her, pulsing against him. Her cries grew tighter, closer, her breaths shallower as she writhed, the muscles in her calves flexing against him as the sensation overtook her, her back arching, her breasts flushed and pouting. She called out his name, a long drawn-out cry, and drenched his fingers as she came.

  She was beautiful and, for now, she was his. He would appreciate this gift while he had it.

  He claimed her then, crawling up her body and thrusting inside her tight wet heat and, God above, it was as if she’d been fashioned for him and no other.

  Her arms slid over his shoulders, pressing into the muscles of his back, kneading, stroking, her nails curving into his flesh, their half-moon indentations marking him, and Alex closed his eyes, willing that thought away.

  “Alex?” She kissed his ear. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded and forced the words out. “Yes, Kate. Just… give me a moment.”

  “Take all the time you want. This feels amazing.”

  It did. Too amazing. It made him wish for things he couldn’t have. Not the least of which was—

  That child she’d assured him wouldn’t happen.

  But, God’s blood, did he want one.

  But to have her take it with her when she left… That, the double loss, would be the end of him.

  He thrust once more, feeling the rise of his seed, knew he would not last much longer. Not with the way she moaned and moved and clenched him.

  Alex thrust again, reveling in it. One more time. And another.

  And then it began, that churning need that threatened to take his sense and make him want to pound into her until he found his release. Gritting his teeth, Alex slid back out. Just to the tip.

  Kate clenched her legs and pressed her heels to his thighs. “Alex, what are you doing?”

  “Protecting you.” And himself.

  She laughed and squeezed her legs again. “I told you, I’m fine. Well, considerably more than fine. But you don’t have to pull out.”

  “No, Kate.” He groaned. “You have to stop. I don’t think I can—”

  He gasped when she tweaked his nipple. Kate hid her smile. Mr. Chivalrous was just a little too in control at the moment. Time to take him out of himself. Just as he had her.

  She ground her hips against him, clenching her inner muscles around his shaft. He was close and she wanted to ride that wave with him.

  “Kate—”

  “Sssh. Trust me, okay?”

  She kissed him, her tongue taunting him, and he groaned into her mouth. “I don’t think I have a choice,” he said, pulsing inside of her.

  “Nope. You don’t,” she laughed, clenching him once more.

  “Lord, Kate,” he said as he withdrew from her, only to thrust in seconds later.

  “Mmmm. I believe that’s Lady Kate.” Coherent speech was slipping away. The man just felt so damn good. Like no one ever had before.

  He drove into her again and Kate met him halfway, that thought repeating over and over like a mantra with each pounding thrust. Like no one ever had before, like no one ever had…

  He rose, and together they looked where their bodies were joined and Kate felt her heart quiver at the image. It felt so right. He felt so right.

  So where the hell did that leave her? Here? In the fifteenth century? Giving up Emma? Her job? Everything she’d worked for? Everything she wanted?

  Then he kissed her. Gently. Almost reverently.

  Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back onto her, into her. She needed his pounding thrusts to stop thinking and just feel. That’s what she needed now, his strength and desire to take her over the edge.

  Alex obliged her, plunging over and over, until, with their heavy breaths echoing in the room’s stillness, he cried out her name.

  “What have you done to me, Kate Lawton?” he whispered, his warm breath fracturing what little of her composure remained as he laid on top of her. “You are a witch. What magic have you brought from your century?”

  “No magic.” She wrapped her arms around him, his weight feeling so good. “Just me.”

  He kissed her. “Perhaps you are the magic,” he said, his next kiss starting them on another journey of star-scattering passion.

  Kate didn’t have the strength—nor the will—to refuse.

  And that scared her more than the thought of never finding her window.

  ***

  The man tapped on the cottage door with a stick, hating the need for skulking around in the dark. He should be in his bed in the early hours of the morning with attendants to serve him. But the arrival of “Lady Katherine”—he snorted, yes she had looked so “ladylike” when Alex left her bed an hour ago—had thwarted that plan.

  He banged on the door again. The stupid freeman slept like the dead.

  He looked behind him where the man’s dog lay trussed like a Christmas goose. The sleeping draught he’d put in the man’s dinner had ensured the success of this plan, as did his habit of sharing everything with that stupid animal.

  He raised the stick again. He was going to have to break the damn thing down.

  “Er, wot’s happenin’?” came
a groggy voice from inside.

  Finally. “Don’ open yer door, Lawrence,” he said, disguising his voice through a cloth. “I’ve got yer dog hidden, with a sword at the ready. So unless ye want the thing t’ be deader than a rabbit fer yer dinner, ye better do what I tell ye.”

  That woke Lawrence up. The man heard the push of bedclothes to the floor, the frantic scrambling as the freeman jumped to his feet, the quick strike of a flint.

  “Middy! Where are ye? Middy!” Belongings were tossed about.

  The man looked at the skinny animal behind a rubbish heap. He’d tied the thing so tightly he could barely make out what it was. It wasn’t going anywhere.

  Especially if Lawrence didn’t cooperate.

  “Listen t’me, Lawrence,” he growled through the door.

  “What d’ye want?”Luckily for Lawrence, he was a smart man—for a freeman.

  Luckily for him, Lawrence had a grudge against Alex. Perfect for his purposes.

  “Yer t’go to the earl an’ tell him ye saw a tradesman on the road t’London with a cartful of things. One of ‘em bein’ the window our lord wants.”

  “I have nothin’ to say to Lord Shelton.”

  The man shook his head. Lawrence was a buffoon—but that’d work to his advantage. These peasants didn’t understand true power and authority.

  But they would.

  “Ye do and ye will if ye want t’ see yer Middy again, ye hear?” He waited for Lawrence to realize the threat. “Ye tell him the man is half a day’s ride from here and when he’s gone, ye’ll have yer Middy back. If ye don’, ye’ll never see her again.”

  Lawrence sobbed and the man smiled. Fear was such an effective weapon, as was that stupid notion of love— for an animal, no less. Combine them and he was invincible. Look what power he’d had with that sheep and the mare. Alex had been his to command.

  “Don’ hurt her. I’ll do what ye want.”

  “Then ye best get to it. The sun will be up soon. A perfect day for our lord to travel to London.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kate woke early, surprising, considering the night she’d had. Alex was an early riser, a fact she should probably be grateful for since she had a feeling that him being found in her rooms by the maid wouldn’t go over so well.