James needed a diversion, and knew just how to provoke one. “Sean, I need you to keep all the soldiers occupied so I can slip away.”

Sean scoffed. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Before he could answer, Colm wedged himself between them and inserted himself in their conversation. “I know what we can do. Sean and I will take to swords. Kenneth can bet one of the Iorwerths who will win and gain everyone’s interest for the next round.”

“It might work,” Sean said, and followed Colm on to the field. As soon as their swords rang with the first strike, several men ceased their activity and stood in groups watching.

Before long, many were enthralled in the betting. James grinned for Sean and Colm put on a good show. They knew how to wield their swords in ways others did not. He found himself watching too and realized he needed to get away while everyone’s attention was focused on his comrades. James hastened away from the fields with a quick stride. He reached the water well near the keep and stopped to take drink.

“You!”

He turned and noticed one of the lassies who swam with Emlyn, that first night of their arrival, calling out to him.

“Good day, milady.” He returned a large ladle to the bucket after he drank down a good helping of water.

The lass appeared angry and stood spine-stiffened. James was about to make his escape, but stopped when he heard her speak.

“You won’t help her will you?”

He frowned in question, and looked around them. “Do you mean Emlyn?”

“Aye, who else do I speak of? My name’s Branwyn, friend to Emlyn. You won’t help her, will you? You’ll allow her to be taken to that knave? He’ll kill her, just like he killed my brother.”

The lass became distraught and James stepped backward, for he didn’t know how to console her. “I have decided to … help her. I’ve been searching for her all morn. When I find her, I’ll tell her so.”

“She said you wouldn’t. I’m gladdened you changed your mind. She’s hiding until she can figure out a way to thwart Marshall.”

“I know a way. Do you know where I can find her?”

Branwyn pretended to fill the bucket when two soldiers passed by. They looked at them overlong and he was about to walk away to disengage their interest.

The lass shouted at them. “What are ye looking at? Mayhap I should have my Cranog come and inquire?”

The two soldiers hastened down the lane. As soon as they were far enough away, James returned to her side.

“I know where she is. Don’t walk too close. Follow me,” she said, waving him onward. She walked around the keep near the wall surrounding the fortification. There, he saw a large hill embedded into a high rocky wall. The wall rose up from the ground, seemingly reaching the sky. In the center of the rocky formation stood a white door with a dragon etched in the large stone above. She pointed at the door and kept walking.

He wanted to thank her for her help, but she was already too far away to hear him. James waited until she disappeared around the bend of the keep, before pulling the key from his tunic.

It fit perfectly and he turned it. The door groaned when he opened it. The abode was dark within. He closed the door behind him, darkening the chamber further. His eyes couldn’t see much ahead of him. Before he called out Emlyn’s name, someone attacked him and forced him back onto a table. Their sword thrust against his neck. He couldn’t breathe. As his eyes adjusted to the obscurity, he saw her.

“Emlyn.”

She withdrew her sword and pulled back. “James.” His name was a sultry whisper on her lips. She dropped her sword and threw herself in his arms.

James caught her and when she set her mouth on his, he was swarmed with lust. Their kiss became frantic, vehement, and full of desire. Holding her close, he reveled having her in his arms again. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth, and continued kissing her as if he was ravenous.

Her hands gripped his tunic, and he felt the air around him when she stripped it from his body.  James kept his mouth fused with hers, surrendering to her siren’s tongue’s call. He had never been kissed so seductively or enthusiastically before and vowed to enjoy every second of it. Her hands moved frantically over his chest in unison with her lips.

Emlyn caressed his bared chest, her fingers squeezing and pinching him. James leaned back against the table and pulled her to stand between his legs. He undid the ties of her tunic and pulled it over her head, breaking off their kiss.

They both laughed, and then James took her breasts in his hands. He gazed at them and when she leaned in, he used his mouth to tease the hardened tips of her nipples. She moaned and set her hands on his shoulders as he continued to press his attention on her lovely mounds.

“James, please … Can you not tell how much I want you? This is not the time to tease or go slow.”

“Aye, it is, lovely. I want to touch you everywhere and I won’t be content until I do.” He caressed her body with his rough hands, roaming at his will. James tugged at the closure of her breeches when his hands reached her waist, until they fell to her ankles. She stepped out of the garment, and began seductively removing her shift. It was all too much and James growled, anxiously wanting her to rid it. He helped her shift it beneath her hips. When she stood before him, James knew he was astute, for she was a vixen, one that held him in complete rapture.

“Let me look at you.”

She stepped back and he his eyes took in the musculature of her arms and legs. Emlyn was as fit as a warrior, and he surmised it was due to the practice she participated in daily. Her hands and feet were dainty, her hips curvaceous, and her chest speckled with the same freckles she had on her face. When he remembered to breathe, he took a breath.

“I didn’t get a chance to enjoy this view the other night. You are beyond beautiful, Emlyn.”

She took a step toward him again and ran her hands along his arms. When she reached the bulge of his biceps, she stopped and stared at him.

“Not as strong and capable as you,” she said in a whisper.

James unbelted his tartan and let his garment fall to join hers. He hopped on the table and pulled her on to his lap. He wanted nothing more than to be inside her—knowing nullity from their previous encounter.

Emlyn sat astride him, with her hands on his shoulders for support. She leaned close and kissed his chin, his cheek, his nose, and finally his mouth. Her sweet lips brushed lightly over his and caused him to moan, for he wanted to taste her again.

She settled her mouth against his, and James thought the coy gesture was utterly feminine. It was completely unexpected from her. In this she couldn’t help but be the sweet, willing lass he’d hoped she’d be.

James leaned back on his elbows and watched as she took hold of his erection and guided it to her woman’s essence. He couldn’t hold back the groan of pleasure when he entered the wet, warmth of her body.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Nay, to the contrary. I’m yours to command, lovely. Do with me what you will. What do you want me to do?”

Emlyn raised her body and lowered herself onto him. The movement caused him to grit his teeth, for he was already pulsing with the need to ram inside her and expire. It took a will he didn’t know he possessed to remain still and allow her untried movements.

“Hold my hips and help me move,” she commanded.

James did as she bode and as she began gyrating madly against him, he closed his eyes and basked in the glory of their joining. He wished he’d remembered their last encounter, because this one damned near, pleasantly tortured him.

Emlyn slowed, and tossed her head back. She appeared lost in passion, and he took over from there and jerked his hips to meet her. He continued to thrust, and they both rasped with the exertion of their hasty movements. James slowed and took hold of her waist. He flipped her onto her back and laughed when she gasped.