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Falcon's Honor. Denise LynnЧитать онлайн книгу.

Falcon's Honor - Denise  Lynn


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have this door fixed in but a few moments.” At Gareth’s silence, Edgar prompted, “Milord? You do want us to fix the door, yes?”

      Gareth waved for the men to continue. “Yes.”

      He wondered if his voice sounded as hoarse to his captain as it did to him.

      While the men worked on the door, Edgar offered, “I will relieve you, so you can go below and eat.”

      Gareth cleared his throat. “Perhaps later.”

      He wanted to kick himself. He knew his clipped responses would make his man aware something was not quite right.

      Rhian turned back to the window, leaning her forehead against the wall.

      Finally in control of his racing desire, Gareth faced his captain and motioned the man to join him outside of the chamber.

      “Have all of Browan’s men been accounted for?”

      “Aye, milord. Three dead, six with minor injuries and one who was worse off. They found him crawling out of one of the storage sheds. He is hurt, but will recover.”

      “Good. Were they able to provide any further information?”

      Edgar shook his head. “No. But nobody has truly questioned them in detail. Would you like me to bring them to you for interrogating?”

      “No.” That was the last thing Gareth wanted at the moment. “Let them rest and I will talk to them on the morrow.”

      “Aye, sir.” Edgar peered around Gareth. “They are almost done with the door. Are you certain you do not wish me to relieve you?”

      It was all Gareth could do to hold back his laugh. “I am fine, Edgar. See that the others get some food and a place to sleep for the night.”

      Edgar frowned before saying, “You need sleep more than the rest of us. I can—”

      “No.”

      The captain stepped back from Gareth’s near shout. “No need to tear my head off, milord.” He peered at his lord from beneath bushy eyebrows for a moment before a smile crossed his face. “Oh, I see. You have plans for the evening.”

      “In a manner of speaking, yes. I plan to spend the night guarding my charge.”

      Edgar’s eyes widened. His mouth dropped open. After blinking a few times, he frowned, then asked, “Alone? In her chamber? Milord, do you think—”

      Gareth cut his man off with a raised hand. “I try not to think of anything other than the successful completion of my mission for the King.” To reassure Edgar, he added, “I will sleep on the floor, by the door, not in her bed.”

      Edgar waggled his eyebrows. “Excellent idea, milord. I will see to the men. Then I will return to guard the door from any who would seek to disturb you…or the lady.”

      Gareth bit the inside of his cheek to keep from responding to his captain’s obvious opinion. The less said, the better. “That is fine, Edgar. I will see you on the morn.”

      After Edgar went below stairs, Gareth waited until the men were done with the door before reentering the chamber. He closed the door behind him and dropped the locking bar into place.

      Rhian hadn’t moved. Her slumped shoulders spoke volumes to him. He imagined that she was embarrassed, perhaps now even regretted her boldness.

      What fanciful ideas had she been concocting with her brazen offer? There was little doubt that the lady was up to something. Most likely she was seeking yet another way to escape her fate.

      She’d admitted to being a virgin, but she seemed more seductress than virgin. So her outrageous offer seemed even more absurd. Was she truly that desperate to ruin her future? Or had she lied?

      Did it matter to him? Shamefully, he had to admit that no, at this moment it did not matter in the least. Her offer appealed to him more than he could explain.

      On one hand the mere idea felt right. As if it was meant to be. On the other hand, he was intrigued by her attempted manipulation and wanted to see how far she’d go. Would she complete the act? Would he? This was not a way to regain honor. It was more like another test to see if he truly had any honor left.

      He leaned against the door. “Rhian.”

      She turned around, but kept her face averted.

      “Rhian, I would like nothing more than to give you a night of passion. But not if you have changed your mind.”

      She took a step toward him, stopped and looked at him. “This will remain between us? You will tell no one?”

      He started across the floor toward her. His steps slow and steady, unlike his racing heart. “I do not run to all with tales.”

      “You will not think less of me?”

      “I thought that others’ opinions did not matter.”

      She frowned. “In this, yours does matter.”

      He stopped an arm’s length in front of her, praying his tongue would find the right words. “You offer me what no other woman has ever even hinted at. How could I think less of you?”

      “Will you think less of me in the day’s light?”

      Gareth shrugged. “I do not think so, but I do not know for certain.”

      Rhian rolled her eyes. “Well, do you think any less of any woman you have…that you’ve…” She stopped, obviously unable to find a word for the act.

      While it would be amusing to see what word she eventually conjured, Gareth saved her the search. He reached out and ran a finger down her arm before lacing his fingers through hers. “I would not know, Rhian. Whores are not generally still around by the day’s light.”

      With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer until she rested against his chest. “If you have changed your mind, I will go now.”

      She shook her head. “Nay. You touch me and I want more. I do not wish for you to leave.”

      “And when you speak so, I have no wish to leave.” He tipped her chin up with the side of his thumb. He searched her eyes, looking for any sign of wavering, any uncertainty and found none in her seemingly guileless stare.

      She was willing to risk much in this bid for a night of passion. He still did not believe for one heartbeat that she would carry this through to the end.

      Gareth briefly touched his lips to hers, before releasing her. “Since neither of us wish for any others to know what we are about,” he said while pulling his tunic off over his head, then unbuckling his sword belt. “You will have to help me out of this armor.”

      Rhian laughed softly before stepping back to tug at the laces holding the mail sleeves and his hauberk together. “I have played squire before.”

      Her fingers shook as she worked the bindings. It was all she could do to not tear at them, to quickly divest him of his clothing and fall together to the mattress.

      Anything to get this over with before she lost all nerve. What had she been thinking?

      A few hours ago, the mere suggestion of lying with a man seemed insulting and degrading. Only a cheap whore would permit herself to be used so.

      What was she? By offering herself, hopefully in exchange for her freedom, was she any better than those who offered their bodies in exchange for coin?

      Since she was the one who would do the using, Rhian felt lower than a whore. What was the penance for such wanton, deceitful behavior? At the moment, she didn’t know. But she doubted if it’d be anything pleasant. In the recesses of her mind, she wondered how long she’d burn in hell.

      Finally, the bindings came loose and she slid the long sleeves off his arms. “Bend over.” When he followed her bidding, she tugged at the armor until it finally slid over his shoulders and head. Too heavy and cumbersome


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