“Of course not,” he snapped at her. “Any guard caught doing so is publicly whipped nearly to death and kicked out of the palace.”
Her eyes were still round on him. “That’s all?”
“A disgrace like that ruins a man for life. We take a life for a life. If no life is taken—”
“I get the point! And I bloody well wish I’d killed the bastard—if that was his intention. At least I broke his nose. I feel much better now, thank you. But unlike you, I won’t dismiss the thought that he came here to kill me.”
“I’m not dismissing that thought either.”
“Good, because in case it hasn’t occurred to you yet, you’ve been harboring a traitor to the crown. Is that why you’re so angry?”
“I’m angry because someone tried to hurt you.”
“When are you going to believe I am who I say I am, and that someone, maybe the same people who wanted me dead eighteen years ago, want to harm me now? I—I’m frightened.”
He put a finger under her chin. “I will get to the bottom of this. In fact, I think I’ll go now to see if that blackguard is awake yet.” Christoph grabbed his boots and coat and told her on the way out the door, “Lock this behind me.”
He thought he heard her say, “Be delighted to.”
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t lock him out when he had the key in his coat pocket. But he had a feeling she’d be asleep before he returned. Even if his men had managed to rouse that thief, he was going to take his time getting a confession from him. He needed someone to unleash this anger on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ALANA DRIFTED IN AND out of sleep. Nightmares had woken her twice. She’d dreamed that she was drowning again, suffocating again. Those two horrible events today had been so similar, she wasn’t surprised they’d been blended together in her dreams. But then she reminded herself that Christoph had saved her life today; he’d also caught the man who’d attacked her. She felt so safe when she was with him, and knowing he was there beside her lulled her back to sleep.
The large bed helped. It was so comfortable. She couldn’t even feel the robe anymore that had constricted her when she’d crawled into bed. She must have shrugged it off when it got too warm under the covers. But the warmth was perfect now, even with Christoph’s body next to her adding to it—and just like today by the hearth in that cottage when his heat had ended that nightmare, a soft orange glow from the fireplace filled the room.
She wasn’t surprised that she would want to reexamine the kisses that Christoph had introduced her to, but she wondered how she could remember his taste this strongly. Then she knew. She must have cried out and awakened him. And this was his way of soothing away her fears so she could sleep again. The velvet softness of his lips, the rasp of his tongue, the way her pulse began racing, even the pounding of her heart. Not exactly soothing!
The wintry smell of his hair filled her nostrils when his mouth moved to her neck. Tingles spread down her arms from it. She was feeling everything she’d felt before and maybe a little more.
His hand was on her breast. His mouth was on her breast? That was hot, drawing a moan from her as it sent tendrils of pleasure to her core. And between her legs, a friction—oh, God, nothing that had happened before was as exciting as this! She sucked in her breath, again, yet again, and held it tight. Whatever had been building inside her was so wondrous, felt so amazingly good, that even her breath was now held in thrall waiting for it to let her go. Then it did, releasing the most erotic pleasure imaginable. It washed over her in repeated waves, and she expelled her breath in a groan that was loud even to her own ears.
Toes curled, a smile on her lips, she still felt that pulse throbbing between her legs. But she was so drained. So tired, too tired to wonder about it. Tomorrow she would . . .
But the warm cocoon surrounding her suddenly felt heavy. She spread her legs to get them out of the way. Something hard slid across that pulse, making her start, reminding her it was still there.
“Open your eyes, Alana. You melted for me. Now melt with me. I want to give you more pleasure, and I want you to see how much pleasure it will give me to . . . make love to you.”
When she opened her eyes, she saw Christoph’s handsome face there above her. Lambent blue eyes. A smile on his lips warm enough to melt snow.
“Much better,” he said. “I was beginning to think you fell asleep again.”
She almost laughed. Sleep through what just happened? But she was still savoring the delicious languor she was floating in. Even his weight felt right now, perfectly distributed on her, a welcome change that put him within her reach.
She gave in to the urge to touch him, putting her hands on his bare shoulders, running them over the thick muscles of his arms, which he was leaning on to keep his chest off hers. He was still naked. Hadn’t she objected to that? What could she have been thinking? His golden body was so magnificent, it was stimulating her senses. With such bulging strength he was almost barbarically masculine, yet beautiful. She wondered if she could adequately describe him for Henry so he could make her a carving of him like this. She’d love that.
He was watching her intently. He seemed fascinated by the way her fingers were examining him. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel the least bit shy.
In fact, she smiled at him and teased, “This is a nice dream.”
He chuckled. “I wish my dreams were so erotic.” In a deeper timbre, he said, “Actually, they usually are. But let’s not wake up from this one, eh?”
He was kissing her so fast, she guessed he didn’t really want her opinion on that. She gave it to him anyway, by kissing him back. But sharing a kiss so wholeheartedly with him might not have been a good idea. So quickly, the languor was gone. So quickly, a higher degree of passion was there between them, and it wasn’t just coming from him. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of him but had to try!
Steam seemed to rise around them. His back was now slick where she tried to grip it, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck instead. It was slick between her legs, too. That hardness was sliding across the pulse point there so easily, back and forth, briskly stimulating. It was building up again, that amazing tension that kept getting stronger and stronger. But she knew now where it led. She knew . . .
“Are you sure, Alana?”
