Dunmore Rising Read online

  “Sir Graham,” she said respectfully, “we must tend to your wound.”

  Graham hesitated. No one, not even he, was supposed to know who the prince was, and it wouldn’t take more than a single punch to knock the wanker off his horse and show him who was the better man here. It would do the prince good, he thought belligerently, to have his nose broken at least once.

  Sir Bertram’s eyes gleamed as if he realized Graham’s intent. Was that an unspoken challenge in their depths? Of course there was, he realized, when the man’s gaze moved to Jili once more.

  Graham’s unusual choice of a squire had most definitely caused the uproar he’d expected…but instead of ridiculing him for his decision, it seemed that every damned knight on the field was doing his best to lure her from his side. And he would never let that happen. Not even if Jili herself agreed to the match.

  Hellfire! Graham shook his head. He was acting like some jealous suitor trying to keep her all for himself. Jili was a grown woman, a fully trained warrior capable of making her own decision.

  He cursed his mothers for the thousandth time as the prince dropped from his horse. Bertram was tall, Graham acknowledged, assessing the other man. With a decent girth to his shoulder and arms thickly knotted with muscle. It wasn’t often Graham met anyone who could give him a fitting challenge, either on or off the field. The princeling could, and that thought made his hackles rise.

  Especially when the braggart took Jili’s hand and brought it to his lips. “If you ever get tired of this dullard and want to work for a real man—”

  When Graham snorted in derision, Bertram ignored the rude sound.

  “—you know where to find me,” he continued as if he and Jili were all alone.

  She politely pulled her hand away and wiped it on her hakama—what she had said her wide-legged pants were called. “I’ll be certain to add you to the list.” Dismissing him entirely, she turned to Graham. “’Tis time, master.”

  He gaped at her in shock, concealing the expression quickly. Master was it? Although he knew it was said strictly for the other man’s benefit, Graham had trouble swallowing down his thrill at her use of the title.

  He’d lain awake many a night these past few weeks, lost in stupid fantasies of having her offer him more personal services, and her calling him master fit right in with his idiotic musings. His cock roused and Graham bit back a groan, forcing the thoughts away. They had a purely professional relationship, he reminded himself—again. Jili’s past made anything else impossible. He would do nothing to betray her trust.

  Giving the prince a smug smile, he followed her as she hurried ahead. When he finally entered their tent, he swore. The jousting had not gone well at all. Bertram had made a far better show than expected, the arrogant bastard almost unseating him before Graham finally won the match. But he’d taken a decent shot to the shoulder and a thick splinter of wood from the prince’s javelin had rammed itself beneath his arm.

  And this was only the first day of the competition in a tournament—that for whatever stupid reason the earl sponsoring it had decided—was supposed to last seven days.

  Graham threw his helmet into the corner. “I fully intend to kill him.”

  Jili motioned two serving boys to set a bath up near the bed. “Got you, did he?” She untied his cuirass and eased it off. “He always strikes low to the left. Why haven’t you figured that out by now?” She knelt before him and untied his chausses.

  “I didn’t ask for a replay of the event.” He glowered down at her.

  Her grin was amused. “Then you should have. ’Tis my duty to keep you informed of your opponent’s weaknesses. While you might believe he’s an ass—”

  “Prince Ass, actually.”

  Both her brows disappeared beneath her bangs. “Indeed?”

  “But he doesn’t know that I know, and you are definitely not supposed to know. Hell,” Graham added with a shake of his head. “I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

  What he said next was far from polite as he tried to pull the quilted gambeson over his head, wincing when it caught on the wood. “Can you see it?” Jili ran cool fingers over his skin as she stood to inspect the injury. She smelled exotic, of jasmine and other imported flowers, the foreign scents stirring his overly deprived senses.

  They’d been training together for four long weeks, and in all that time, for whatever stupid reason, Graham had stayed with her every night, aching and unrelieved. He hadn’t gone this long without a woman since before he’d topped his very first. And despite his best efforts, the strain was beginning to show. Not that he’d even begun to admit his fantasies all centered around his squire, and that even the thought of a paid companion made his gut roll. When in the hell had Jili become the center of all his needs?

  He’d pictured her in a thousand different positions, on her back, on her stomach, on her knees…on his knees. His flesh roused as the familiar images began to play out in his mind. And now, as she studied his arm, with her face so close to his neck he could feel her breath, Graham’s frustrations rose to new and more desperate levels. He squirmed, trying to ease the growing pressure in his breeches.

  “Hold still,” Jili ordered. “This is quite a big piece.” Wrapping a cloth around the wood, she gave a hard jerk, pulling out the sliver in a single easy move.

  Graham grunted. At least the pain in his arm took his mind off the ache of his cock. “Stitches?”

  She wiped the blood away. “Perhaps one or two. Should I call the chirurgeon or do it myself?”

  “Just do it and get it over with.” Graham sat down and held out his feet. Jili knelt and pulled off his boots. “I stink,” he said as the foul odor rose up to fill the air.

  Her laugh was easy. “Badly. If you want, I can work on your arm while you bathe.”

  It was the first time she had ever offered to be present while he bathed. Not that he’d done it very often lately.

  Although he opened his mouth to refuse her offer, he was so tired and smelled so bad, Graham decided to take the risk. He wasn’t certain how Jili would react, and if she fled in embarrassment, he would know not to do it again. In truth, he’d deliberately avoided this situation, knowing that each night when he sponged himself off, she turned her face away until he was clothed again.

  Her past still haunted her, of that he had no doubts.

  When at last he nodded, she left the tent and barked orders to the younger boys. He smiled at the tone in her voice. She could be downright bossy when she wanted to. The tub was filled quickly. Throwing caution to the wind, Graham stripped and sank into the bath. Jili pulled the footstool over and laid out the needle and thread.

  “Do we really have to do that?” Graham felt his nerves stretch. While he could take whatever pain was inflicted on him in battle or the tournament, the idea of letting her calmly stick a needle into his flesh was nauseating. He’d passed out on more than one occasion while getting sewn up in the past, and really didn’t want to make a fool of himself now.

  “Are you chicken?” A grin tilted up one corner of her mouth.

  “If you must know,” he answered truthfully, feeling the dull red flush creeping up his neck, “yes.” Graham tried to relax against the side of the tub as the hot water loosened the tension from his muscles. He sighed in contentment just before Jili stuck the needle deep into his arm.

  Graham swore and jumped, splashing water everywhere, causing Jiliana to yank hard on the thread. “Baby,” she scolded him, tying off the knot, studying her work to make certain she hadn’t pulled the stitch free.

  “Damn, woman, are you trying to kill me?” He blinked at her through long dark lashes, the weariness in his eyes clearly visible.

  “Just one more,” she promised, wanting to stroke the pain from his face. “I’ll be quick.” And she was. In seconds she had finished and Graham relaxed again with a heavy sigh of relief.

  “You can go get something to eat,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting shut. “I plan on staying here unt
il the water gets so cold I can’t stand it, then I’m going straight to bed. I have to face that damned prince again on the morrow.”

  But Jiliana was unwilling to leave. More and more often, she found herself wanting to stay in his company no matter where they were. She could think of nothing she’d rather do than run her hands over his shoulders, knead the ache from his muscles, and hear him whisper her name in grateful surrender. She was drawn to him as heaven to earth, yin to yang, darkness to light.

  Her thoughts shocked her as a thrill of desire rippled through her body. Needs she had long since locked away begged her for release, their dangerous ache filling her with both anticipation and a deep seated dread.

  Forcing down the memories that surfaced with the want, Jiliana dunked a cloth in the water and very carefully cleaned the blood from Graham’s arm. She stared at his body in fascination, noting the breadth of his shoulders and the hard plane of his stomach. She even let her gaze linger on the mass of flesh that bobbed between his thighs.

  She frowned as regret worked its way into her heart, her memories coming too close for comfort. Terror. Pain. The sound of her own voice screaming. The sound of newer voices adding their cries to the chaos. With a force of will she brought herself back to the present.

  If her life had been different, she acknowledged in unaccustomed sorrow, she could have been pledged to a man like Graham, feeling his body against hers in the night…hearing him call her name in affection, tasting his mouth when he kissed her. And there were still so many things he didn’t know. So many mistakes made in the years that stood between them. What man could ever come to love a woman who had done the things she had?

  Not that she expected love, or any emotion that came close to it. She had locked those dreams away in the prison of her mind. Desire has a heavy price, the masters had taught her. To want too much is like trying to catch the wind.

  But tonight, when he was so strangely vulnerable and injured, she couldn’t make herself leave him. “At least let me wash your hair,” she heard herself say, moving the stool to sit behind him. She dipped the cloth in the tub once more and dripped water over his head and shoulders.

  After she found the bar of soap and worked up a decent lather, her fingers dug into his scalp as she worked the soap through his hair and down his neck, applying a good amount of pressure to the tensely knotted muscles. When her hands began to tire, she used her elbows and forearms.

  He sighed again, one corner of his mouth turning up. “I hope that arrogant asshole doesn’t get such good treatment from his squire,” he said smugly. “I’ll best him easily.”

  She snorted. “Not if you don’t remember where he strikes. You let him hit you every time today.” She rinsed off the soap and moved to sit at Graham’s side, lathering his chest and working down across his stomach. The mass between his legs stirred, grew and hardened to an impressive length. She found her fingers trailing closer and closer as the desire to touch him spiraled out of control.

  Without warning, Graham’s hand clamped tight around her wrist. “’Tis enough. That is not a squire’s job.”

  Her gaze flew to his face. While his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed tight together, he hadn’t opened his eyes. She knew he had deliberately kept them shut, sparing her any embarrassment. “’Tis for some,” she argued stubbornly.

  He chuckled, still not looking at her. “Agreed, but not for you. Go to sleep, Jili, we have a long day tomorrow.”

  “You haven’t been with a woman since—” Jiliana drew her brows together “—since I have been here,” she said as the realization struck. They had been together night and day.

  He grunted, bringing her wrist to his cheek. “I can take care of it myself once you have gone.”

  “What if I wanted to?” She did not know what possessed her to make the offer, but as soon as she said the words, she realized the truth. She wanted to wrap her hands around his shaft and have him teach her how to please him.

  This time his eyes shot open. “Not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” The more he refused her, the more she determined she became. “Would it be so horrible to have me touch you?”

  He dropped her wrist and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. It stood up in wet spikes, making him look more desirable than before. Jiliana’s body flamed again, the ache spreading from between her legs to race across her stomach. The sensation was unlike any she had felt before. It begged to be acknowledged, demanded not to be ignored.

  “If I said I wanted to…us to…I mean, what if we could…Graham, I am a grown woman and I’ve never done anything since—” She broke off and lowered her head, the flush of shame rising fast into her cheeks. Maybe he was right. Maybe she shouldn’t push for more.

  To her surprise he tucked a finger beneath her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  She nodded, swallowing around the dryness of her throat.

  “And you can trust me.”

  She nodded again.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” His eyes held such a serious look she reached out to smooth her hand across his cheek. “Oh, hell, Jili,” he muttered, wrapping his hand around her neck and pulling her face to his. “I know I will regret this,” he whispered, rising from the tub in a shower of water to stand naked and wanting before her, “but I don’t have the will to say no.”

  Grabbing a cloth, he briefly dried himself before taking her hand and leading her to the bed. When she hesitated, he gave her a gentle look. “Say the word and we stop. No matter what…no matter when. Agreed?”

  Jiliana knew the blush covered her from head to toe, but she met his gaze as boldly as she could. “Would you not touch me…not yet?”

  “If you tell me not to.” Graham sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her down beside him.

  The warmth of him surrounded her, the smell of him clean and sharp in her nose. She had nearly forgotten how big he was when he had been folded up in the tiny tub, but now, faced with the full force of the man, his size alone was almost enough to make her change her mind.

  Almost.

  Had she not known what a gentle giant he truly was, she might have fled in fear, but Graham had always been her friend, and he had proven his honor on a daily basis. While forever was not an option, this night was, and she intended to make the most of it. Why not? What would it cost her in the end? A heart could only hold so much pain. Hers was full, she was safe.

  “Tell me how to please you,” she whispered, dropping her hand on one huge thigh. When he jumped, she smiled softly. She had the power here, she was in control. The thought calmed her even as it fueled her longing. “Um, do you think you could lie down and put your hands behind your head?”

  He complied with alacrity, completely comfortable in his skin as he stretched out on the bed and did as she asked, his arms bulging as he bent them, wincing only once when the stitches pulled too tight.

  “Wait.” Jiliana shook her head, not wanting the wound to open again. Pulling a lacing from his discarded shirt, she opted for a different plan. “Put your wrists together.”

  He chuckled, a deep and glorious sound. “Do you really plan to tie me up?” A darker expression flickered across his face.

  Jiliana nodded, nibbling at her lip. She watched in fascination as his cock swelled, demanding that she touch him. And she would touch him…over and over and over through the night.

  “I think I could learn to like this game.” His voice roughened as she tied off the knot.

  “So could I,” she answered, her own voice shaky and uncertain. “Now what should I do?” But before he could answer, she was already running her hands down his stomach, reveling in the feel of his skin sliding beneath hers. She grew bolder and splayed her hands on the inside of his thighs, exploring the quivering muscles there, moving unerringly toward the prize that jutted proudly toward her.

  The sting between her own legs grew, blocking out every thought except for Graham
, this moment, and the mantle of need that wrapped them together. With a sigh of contentment she finally took him in her hands, the pillar of flesh feeling as thick and smooth as she’d imagined.

  “In the east,” she managed to say, “this is called the jade scepter.” And she felt as if she’d found such a royal treasure as she rubbed Graham’s flesh between her palms.

  Graham bit off a moan as Jili finally wrapped her fingers around him, smoothing them over his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of her, the feel of her, he studied every line and angle of her face as she stroked him slowly, from root to tip and back again. His hips bucked involuntarily against her hand, and he did his best to make no other move to hurry her…but it was growing more difficult by the second.

  He’d never really expected, in all the nights he’d lain awake picturing it, that his fantasy might actually come true Was this how his brothers felt when they first met the women they would come to love?

  Love? He bit back another moan as she curled both hands around his cock. Oh, no, they were not going there. If she wanted him to help her learn about pleasure, that was fine. He was a generous man, more than willing to comply, as any true gentleman would. And when they were finished they could walk away. No guilt…no regret.

  He sucked in his breath as she reached between his legs and cupped his heavy sac.

  “Shite, Jili,” he gritted out after several long minutes. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.” His hands strained against the bindings, his fingers clenching and unclenching in rhythm to her strokes. He wanted to touch her, teach her, do something other than lay there in silence, but he knew she wasn’t ready yet. The image of her held close in his arms as he reached out to lick one perfect tipped breast, or use his fingers to stroke her clit before driving his cock deep and high into the silken heat of her—

  “Faster,” he ordered, staring her straight in the eye as the rush of release began. “Harder,” he added, his jaw pulsing in urgency.