Margaret Moore - [Maiden & Her Knight 03] Read Online Free Page B

pain.
    After tying her wrists and ankles, he grabbed the wool sack that had fallen to the ground in their unexpected struggle and began to work it over her body, starting with her head.
    She was indeed a lovely woman, with fine features, a shapely figure and the most beautiful blond hair he had ever seen. No wonder his father had waited for her hand even though that had left him prey to her duplicity, and no wonder Sir Connor had killed for her.
    He would surely pay a great deal for her return, as well.
    She was younger than he had expected, though, and with her eyes closed, she looked very sweet and vulnerable—which was certainly far from the lady’s true nature. She had betrayed his father for another, and together they had robbed Alexander of Bellevoire.
    As he pulled the sack down over her, he was sorely tempted to let his hands linger on the body clad in that fine, soft gown. He wanted to caress her rounded breasts. Run his hands over her trim waist. Stroke her slender thighs.
    But he would have her awake, looking at him with those light blue eyes so like the summer sky. He wanted to see them filled not with fear and wonder but with passion and yearning.
    Rarely had any woman inspired anything like the desire now surging in his blood, and the heat coursing through him proved nearly impossible to ignore.
    Usually his encounters with women were swift and brief, by his design. He did not want any intimacy other than the most basic. Yet if he could be with this woman, he would take all night.
    He forcefully reminded himself she was merely a thing to be ransomed. He would not fall prey to the lure of her, as his father had done.
    After tying the sack, Alexander threw his hood back over his head, then hoisted the lady’s limp body onto his shoulders. He hunched with the weight.
    “Can you manage?” Denis asked as Alexander approached.
    He shifted his burden to a more comfortable carry. “I worked for a mason in my youth, remember?”
    He had toted stones much heavier than Lady Allis of Bellevoire. He had not begrudged the work because he’d wanted to become strong. Now he was very strong, and Lady Allis was no heavier to him than a sack of flour.
    He peered into the busy market to make certain no one was watching the alley, then stepped out and started to walk back the way they had come. He skirted the busier areas, taking care not to appear guilty of anything except carrying a sack full of wool. Since nobody was giving them a second glance, he decided he was safe.
    They left the village without the lady waking, screaming or struggling. Part of Alexander was relieved; another part was concerned that Denis’s blow had caused her more harm than he had supposed. Despite his growing worry over the lady’s state, Alexander did not pause in his journey back to the hill and the place they had hidden their stolen horses. As long as they did not attract undo notice, he would not slacken his pace.
    It wasn’t until they slipped from the road and had to climb back up the hill that Alexander began to get winded. They reached the secluded glade far from any farmer’s fields or pasture at last, however. A gray gelding of some value and a brown mare were tethered with long ropes Alexander had brought for that purpose, and they grazed near a small stream. Willow trees and alders helped hide them, as did tall reeds and long grass.
    Denis threw himself onto the ground with all the loose-limbed ease of a man who knows how to fall without hurting himself while, with a grunt, Alexander laid down his burden. Muttering a curse, he put his callused hands on his back and stretched before he pulled out his sword. He began to cut the binding around the wool sack and then around his captive’s ankles.
    “What are you doing?” Denis demanded, sitting bolt upright as Alexander began to pull the wool sack off. “Are you not still going to keep her in the sack or bound?”
    “I don’t know how well she can breathe,” Alexander replied. “I