She was pointing to the third floor where the young woman was trying to mount the rope. The smoke was thicker now, billowing out of the window in great, black clouds and swirling around the young woman as she tried to get a good grip on the rope, repeatedly trying to gain purchase on it. It became evident that her palms were sweating, or perhaps injured, because she was having a difficult time grasping it. The more she tried, the more it seemed to slip through her fingers.
Maximus was standing directly beneath the rope that the young girl had attempted to use. He could see that the woman was nearly swamped with smoke at this point and flames were beginning to shoot from the windows of the chamber next to hers. There was no more time to delay, sweating palms or no, and he took hold of the end of the linen rope, holding it steady.
“Lass!” he boomed up to her. “Come now! Use the rope!”
The woman was hurrying. He could see it. Her movements were quick, determined, yet futile in most instances. Maximus could see the orange glow behind her now as the flames made their way into her chamber and the woman, feeling the heat behind her, made a desperate leap onto the rope.
Unfortunately, her grip wasn’t very strong. As the flames began to flick out from the window, the woman tried to lower herself down the rope. She slipped, but caught herself, desperately attempting to hold on to the linen that seemed as slippery as silk. Maximus held on to the other end of it, holding it steady, as she lowered herself slowly and precariously.
“That’s it, lass,” Maximus called up to her, encouragingly. “One hand over the other. Do not panic, steady, lass, steady.”
The woman was able to lower herself to the second floor level, which was a miracle considering her weak grip and uneven progress. She was valiantly trying to descend and Maximus watched her with some concern as she made progress. Gazing up at her feet and at the dark green surcoat as it blew about in the wind that the firestorm was creating, he realized he could see up her skirt and was trying not to look at her very shapely legs. He could also see the hem of her fine white shift and, as it billowed about, he’d caught a glimpse of naked buttocks.
Maximus wasn’t hard-pressed to admit that he found the show tantalizing, but he knew his thoughts were grossly out of place considering the circumstances. Therefore, he tried to focus on her hands and the upper, well-covered portion of her torso. Anything to keep his gaze from wandering to her legs and smooth arse. Unfortunately, the Winds of Fate had other ideas.
Abruptly, the linen rope went slack as the fire burned through whatever the young woman had anchored it to. All Maximus could see was the woman as she came sailing down upon him. The skirt, caught by the wind as she fell, belled out and Maximus soon found his head covered by it. Her feet hit his shoulders and glanced off, her heels sliding down his shoulder blades as her bum came to rest on his collarbone.
It was a hard hit against his throat and he pitched backwards with the momentum of her fall, realizing that a woman’s pink, tender center was suddenly in his face. It was the only thing hecould see. As he hit the ground, the woman fell atop him, her fuzzy notch squarely on his face.
Maximus lay there as the woman essentially knelt over him in an extraordinarily provocative position. From the way they had fallen, her skirts were tangled around them so she couldn’t rise immediately. He was trapped, his face against that sensual core, and in spite of the circumstances, it was the most arousing experience he’d ever known. Had he stuck out his tongue, he could have easily lapped her. But she was grunting unhappily, struggling to climb off him, and Maximus had to pull himself away from that rather beautiful sight to restore the woman’s dignity. He shifted so she could at least pull her skirts out from underneath him.
“Sirrah!” the woman gasped, trying to yank her tangled skirt away from his head. “Let mego!”
Maximus realized that his arms were tangled in her skirts as well. “I am trying, my lady,” he assured her. “Kindly push yourself up and I will be able to move.”
Evidently, the woman could feel his hot breath against her woman’s core as he spoke because she suddenly shrieked and began pummeling his head, still half-wrapped up in her skirts.
“You beast!” she cried. “You dirty, foul beast! Remove yourself!”
She was landing some heavy blows to his head and Maximus put his hands up, grabbing her fists as they swung at them. He could only see her with one eye because of the skirts still around his head, but that one eye was glaring.
“You will cease your fit,” he growled. “I am not here by choice, lady.Youfell on top ofme. If anyone should be angry between us, it should not be you. Now, stop beating me and pull your skirts away from my head unless you wish to remain in this position for the rest of your life.”
The young woman was embarrassed and frustrated. Maximus could see it in her expression. She was also the most utterly beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. With long, blond hair secured in a braid, she had a sweet oval face, lush lips, and big eyes the color of a hot, summer sky. She was absolutely ravishing. But that beautiful face was twisted into a serious frown.
Grunting miserably, the woman yanked at her skirts, trying to push herself off of him. Maximus was able to get his arms free and he reached out, taking her by the waist as he sat up. He was able to set her to her feet before rolling over and rising to his knees. He watched as the woman ran over to the young girl, pulling the child into a relieved embrace.
“Are you well, Issie?” she asked softly. “Did you hurt yourself?”
The young girl shook her head, holding tightly to the woman. “Nay,” she replied, looking at Garran, who was standing a few feet away. “He… he saved me.”
The young woman looked at the big, black-eyed knight. “You have my thanks,” she said sincerely. Then, she reluctantly turned to Maximus, who was just rising to his feet and brushing the dirt off his leather breeches. It was clear that she was torn between her embarrassment and her gratitude. “And to you, sirrah… I suppose I should thank you also. Had you not been here, the outcome might have been considerably different for my sister and me.”
Maximus moved away from the flaming structure, which was starting to collapse. Pieces of building were falling onto the avenue and, silently, he and Garran moved the women away from the danger to the other side of the street. It was a chivalrous habit to protect the weaker, female sex and had nothing to do with his overall concern for the women.Considering the ungrateful lady had beat him around the head, he would just as soon leave her where she stood.
“Your gratitude is unnecessary,” he said, realizing he was having difficulty looking her in the eye and not thinking of that sweet morsel between her legs that had presented itself so unexpectedly to him. “If you are uninjured and do not require further assistance, then we shall be along our way.”
He didn’t even wait for an answer. He found that he was increasingly confused as to his reaction to the woman, as if she had somehow cast a spell over him. Something about her was pulling him towards her whether or not he wanted to and he didn’t like it, not one bit. As he and Garran turned away, heading back for the Street of the Merchants and to the business they were there to conduct, the young woman’s soft voice called after him.
“Sirrah,” she said. “I should like to know your name so that I may tell my father. He will want to thank you.”
Maximus paused and he turned to face her. Her voice had a silky, sensual quality, something he found quite alluring.A siren’s song, he thought ominously.She is trying to bewitch me with that honeyed tone.
“As I said, gratitude is not necessary,” he said somewhat stiffly. “We were honored to be of assistance.”
He turned to leave but, again, the woman stopped him. “Wait, please,” she said. By the time he turned around with some impatience to look at her, she was walking towards him, clutching the little girl beside her. Her lovely features were considerably softer. “I… I am sorry I became angry with you when you were only trying to help. I am afraid that my fear got the better of me. If you would forgive my behavior, I would consider it a personal favor.”
Lord, but that tone was smooth and gentle. He almost closed his eyes to it, letting it flow over him, infiltrate him, and he knewthat if he let himself go that she could talk him into anything with those dulcet tones. He wanted to walk away from her and away from the situation. He truly did. He had no involvement here and was anxious to be about his business. But gazing into those bright, blue eyes, he realized he couldn’t simply walk away from her. Something about her had reached out to grab him.
