Jerking the tip of the dagger out of his chest, he shook her wrist and the weapon clattered to the floor. Faucon pulled her to him. “I gave you two choices, Lyonesse. The first was to kill me.”
His lips grazed hers. “The second was to submit.”
The warmth of his blood seeped through her thin gown. The heat of his lips tore through her veins. This was insane. Yet that knowledge did nothing to prevent her from leaning even closer against him.
Coaxing her lips to part, he swept his tongue across hers and the fire shot all the way to her toes. Heat and ice both rushed through her at the same time. It left her dizzy, breathless and wanting more.
Faucon released her wrist and wrapped his arm around her. “You were a fool to come here alone.” His hot breath grazed her ear. “What made you think you would succeed?”
Before she could answer, his lips closed over hers. The half-formed response fled her mind.
He stroked her side, his fingertips barely brushing her flesh. Lyonesse shivered from the unexpected contact.
No man had ever touched her like this—igniting fires with a gentle stroke. Not even Guillaume had kissed her in this manner—turning her legs to water and causing her heart to beat so rapidly. Never had she imagined the feelings running through her now. Faucon was just a man and she’d been certain of his reaction upon seeing her indecent clothing. Yet she had not expected him to touch her—or to kiss her.
She’d not expected to become the prey.
He traced across her chin and up to her ear with his lips and tongue. She could no more stop the tremors rushing down her spine than she could stop the moon from rising at night.
Faucon cupped her breast and ran his thumb across her already swollen nipple. “Ah, Lyonesse.” His whispered words against her ear drew a moan from her. His lips against her neck caused her to gasp for breath. He chuckled softly against her skin. “The next time you seek to kill me, do not get within my arm’s reach.”
Threading his fingers tighter in her hair, he pulled her head back.
Lyonesse stared into his eyes. The golden flecks shimmered with life. The fire in her veins cooled instantly. What had she done?
His brows rose and a smile lifted one side of his mouth. “Next time, Lyonesse, I will do much more than just kiss you. I will make you mine.”
She bit her lip as the heat of embarrassment rushed up her face. Pushing against his chest, she swore, “Next time, Faucon, perhaps I will see you dead.”
He laughed at her idle threat. “There won’t be a next time, my love.”
“Do not call me that!” Her gown stuck to the already drying blood on his chest as she pulled away.
Faucon looked down and pried at the cloth, freeing them from each other. “I would appreciate it, if you would summon Howard.”
She backed away and turned to retrieve her mantle from the floor, just as the door to the chamber banged against the wall.
“Again you could not honor Milord Guillaume’s wishes.” Sir John stood in the doorway. His sword already drawn, he started for Faucon. “I told you I would see to it myself.”
Lyonesse grabbed at his arm, but he jerked away from her. “Nay. Do not.”
Sir John paused and looked at her. “Do not?” Narrowing his eyes, he let his gaze travel slowly down her body. His rage, when he returned his stare to her face, was almost tangible. “I see that even you have fallen under this blackguard’s spell.”
Pulling her mantle around her, Lyonesse returned his stare. “Nay. But I will not have him killed. We will let the king deal with Faucon.”
Rhys looked from one to the other. Who was his biggest enemy? Sir John with a heart of hate and a ready sword? Or Lyonesse with a heart of deceit and tongue filled with lies? He’d rather face the sword. At least with Sir John he knew when and where the attack would come. But his unexplained lust for Lyonesse would cloud her approach.
He studied the opponents as they confronted each other. No, his lust was not unexplained. Here was a woman who would fight for what she wanted. A woman who would follow her own form of honor—even if it was a bit misguided. A woman who could contain her fear.
This was a woman who could touch his soul. The thought excited him and terrified him at the same time.
Her last words registered in his mind. “You will permit the king to deal with me?”
Without shifting her gaze from Sir John, Lyonesse replied, “’Tis what I said.”
And he’d just thought her honorable. “Are there any other games you wish to play with my life?”
“What is wrong, Faucon? Do you not like a taste of your own treatment?”
With a curse, Sir John shoved Lyonesse toward the door. Then he turned and brandished his sword toward Rhys’s chest. “Sparring with words is not the way to deal with this murdering scum.”
Quickly glancing about the cell, Rhys spied the dagger. Before he could get his hands on the weapon, Howard and five of Taniere’s men rushed the chamber.
“Hold!” Howard’s shout caught Sir John unaware. After disarming the man, Howard handed him over to the guards. “Sir John and his men will leave this keep tonight. From this moment forward they are to be considered enemies of Taniere and Ryonne.”
He paused a moment and when Lyonesse offered no argument, he continued, “If you naysay me on this, milady, I will lock you in your chamber and summon your father from Ryonne.”
Lyonesse bowed her head and sought to pull her mantle more tightly around her, but Howard saw the bloodstains on the front of her gown before she could hide them. Grasping her arm, the captain exclaimed, “You are injured. What has happened here?”
Pulling away, she reassured him, “I am fine.”
Howard glanced at Rhys, back to Lyonesse and finally chose Rhys. “What have you done?”
Rhys shook his head. “Me? Nothing.”
“Milady Lyonesse?”
“I said I am fine, Howard. Leave it be.”
“Then how did you come to be covered with blood? If you are uninjured, then I assume it is Faucon’s.”
“An accident.”
Rhys wanted to laugh at the pair. Where had Taniere’s vicious kitten gone?
“Lady Lyonesse, I told you to stay away from this cell. Why did you come here alone? Who dismissed the guards?”
Straightening her spine, Lyonesse glared at the captain. “I dismissed the guards. They are, after all, my guards.”
Much better. Rhys was pleased to see her return to normal. Since the two of them were obviously distracted, he took the opportunity to snatch the dagger from the floor.
Howard did not seem the least impressed with Lyonesse’s demeanor. “Did Faucon’s blood just suddenly run from his chest unaided?”
She lifted her chin a notch and lifted one tawny eyebrow. “Perhaps.”
Rhys took a step forward. If he could get his hands on Lyonesse, maybe he could use her and the dagger to escape. “No, my blood was quite content in my body before she entered this cell.”
She pointed at Rhys. “But he—”
“Cease!” Howard cut off her reply. “I have heard enough. I still insist that you do not have enough proof to know if Faucon murdered Guillaume or not. Call an end to this, Lyonesse. Send out a ransom note and be done with it.”
Even though a ransom would be an accepted action, Rhys would not stand for that plan. It was unacceptable to