The Conqueror (Hot Knights) Read Online Free

moment, she considered enticing the man, then reason returned. She had no skill in womanly seduction, and she would not submit willingly to an enemy.
    At the thought, Edeva directed another hate-filled glance at the man lying next to her. If this man wanted her maidenhead, he would have to take it at sword point!
    She squirmed again. Her hands seemed to be going numb, and she wondered how she would be able to fight even after he untied her. Sighing, she closed her eyes. She might as well try to rest; she would need her strength.
    * * *
    Jobert came awake and realized he lay on a bed in a Saxon manor, not on a bench in some noisy hall. No wonder he had slept so late. The sun was well up. His men would think him a sluggard.
    He sat up on the side of the bed. As he shifted his weight, he felt something roll towards him. The woman. The memory of his journey to the cellar came back to haunt him. His act of madness.
    He turned to look at her. She lay very still, her eyes closed. For a moment, he wondered if he had killed her with his blow, then he decided she slept.
    Daylight improved her looks. Some of the dirt had rubbed off, and he could discern the femininity of her features. Or, mayhaps it was that for once she was not glaring at him as if she wished to stick a knife in his belly.
    She had full lips, not like a man at all. And under the dirt, her hair was likely as gold and gleaming as others of her race. But it was her body that stirred his morning-heavy loins. She lay on her side, with the shapeless tunic wadded beneath her; and he could make out the unmistakable outlines of her full, rounded bosom.
    He reached out a hand to touch her, and then halted. Jesu, what was he thinking? He had no desire to lie with a treacherous Saxon.
    The woman’s eyes opened. They grew wide, and then turned dark with revulsion.
    At her venomous look, Jobert’s lust vanished. He’d sooner bed a whore with the pox than this nasty-tempered wench!
    They glared at each other for a moment, then a knock sounded at the door. Jobert got up to answer it.
    “Are you well?” Rob asked, entering. “I’ve never known you to sleep so late. The men need to know—God’s holy teeth,” he swore as he saw the woman, “What does she here?”
    “She’s my prisoner.”
    Rob’s eyes swept the Saxon. “You left her bound?”
    “1 could not have slept otherwise. I fear she would have taken my sword and tried to cut my balls off.”
    Rob raised his brows. “Why is she here? Last I knew, you had her thrown into a hole in the ground, presumably to rot.”
    “I changed my mind,” was Jobert’s tight-lipped reply. He crossed the room and pulled on his soiled chainse. “God’s bones, I need to have a bath and my clothes washed.” He shrugged toward the coffer shoved into the corner. “Look in there, Rob, and see if there are any clothes that might fit me.”
    “You?” Rob said dubiously, going to open the coffer. “I doubt it much. Some of the Saxons are fair-sized, but I see no giants.” He fumbled through a stack of clothing and pulled out a heavily embroidered woman’s overgown. “Jesu, but they have fine things here. I’ve not seen such skilled needlework since we left Rouen.” He held up the crimson garment. “The Duchess Matilda’s own ladies could not match this.”
    “Queen Matilda now, Queen of England.” Jobert walked over and pulled the overgown from Rob’s hands and examined it. He could not help wondering how it would look on Damaris, the deep color against her dark hair. Not that he would ever see her again.
    “We’re not here to admire women’s gowns.” Jobert thrust the garment away and gestured toward a second storage chest. “Look in there.”
    Both men began to paw through piles of clothing. Much of it was women’s, but they also found creamy linen underclothes and embroidered men’s tunics made of lavish materials. Rob held up one especially fine overtunic of green sarcanet embroidered with gold scrollwork and