Though she wasn't really a Nun was she?
A 'Novice' the Mother Superior had called her. She'd been very specific about that. And Isabel herself had said that she wasn't fully committed as yet.
Why a woman who looked like that would lock herself away from the world was a mystery to him. She was so desirable that it made his head swim, even if she had been aloof with him before. But not with his men.
The thought made him scowl fiercely.
Richard and John had her laughing like a school girl. The ease with which she's spoken with them made something twist in his gut. Especially since she hadn't behaved that way with him. Not even for a moment.
He no idea why it irked him so, but it did. Her laugh was pleasant to listen to, very much so. In fact, it send a thrill through him every time he heard it. But it was immediately followed by a disgruntled feeling.
Perhaps because he wanted to be the one to cause her happiness.
He shook his head and began directing the men. Quickly he decided where to set up a fire and who would gather wood, and tend to the horses.
He had no time for silly women or their contrary ways!
He had things to accomplish! A mission for the King! Not to mention that he had a wife to procure.
It was only later as he stared into the crackling fire that he realized it was her face he kept seeing by his side.
<><><><><>
Isabel stared at the blanket that Geoffrey had rolled out for her. The thought of sleeping out in the open was discomfiting but that was not what was bothering her. She chewed her lip, feeling very strange around him ever since he'd lifted her from her horse.
Ever since the moment she'd clapped eyes on him in truth.
There was something so masculine about him. So virile. And yet he was contrary in the extreme. Warm one moment, and the next, barking orders at her.
He'd ordered her to go down to the stream with him so she could wash up. He'd stood a decent distance away and turned his back while she'd performed her absolutions. He'd said not a word to her as they walked back to camp.
And yet, he'd been watching her all the while. He wasn't doing it deliberately she did not think. Every time she'd inadvertently caught his gaze, he'd looked away with an angry look upon his face.
He probably thought her to be a useless female! She knew many men thought that women were only good for one thing. She decided to prove him wrong the first moment she got.
Starting now.
"I apologize Lady that we have no feather beds with us."
She stiffened at the mocking tone of his voice.
"I have slept on the ground before."
He raised an eyebrow in disbelief so she continued.
"In the dead of winter. With no blanket."
She lowered herself to the ground and looked around, trying to decide the most comfortable position. Eventually she just lay back and stared up at the sky. And Geoffrey who was watching her with a bemused expression.
She closed her eyes. He could go on staring at her all night if he so wished! She would simply ignore the oaf.
"Why were you without a blanket?"
Isabel sighed and opened her eyes.
"Because I was running away."
"From what?"
She scowled and shut her eyes again, deciding to ignore him. She nearly succeeded. At least until she heard him rustling about. She watched in shock as he unrolled another blanket less than a foot from hers. Then he proceeded to lay down on it. She cleared her throat but he was perfectly still, already giving the appearance of sleep.
"Sir Geoffrey!"
"Aye?"
"What are you about?"
He rolled to his side and cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Protecting you of course. Tis my duty is it not?"
He was smiling arrogantly now.
"From what? Bandits? We have a dozen soldiers to do that!"
He smiled even wider as he lay back down, casually using one arm to support his head.
"Nay M'lady. From snakes."
Five
Geoffrey's eyes opened to pitch black. Twas still the dead of night but his soldier's instincts had awoken him. Not to danger though.
Isabel was beside him, their bodies touching. In her sleep she looked even more breathtaking. Soft and innocent and touchable.
And afraid.
She grimaced, her eyes clenching shut as a fearful whimper escaped her sweet lips.
He frowned, wondering what had her frightened. Perhaps it was the same thing that she had run away from all those years before. Or what the Mother Superior had told her not to fear.
The same thing he'd promised to protect her from.
But how could he if he did not know what it was?
She twisted in her sleep, bringing her rump against his groin. He inhaled sharply at the contact. His arm snaked around her, holding her firm. In her sleep she sighed, clearly comforted by his touch.
Isabel snuggled closer to his warmth and he stifled a groan as she rocked inadvertently against his manhood, which was quickly coming to attention. He was hard in an instant. He stifled a moan at the exquisite torture of having her in his arms.
She felt like utter perfection... supple and strong and very, very feminine. He inhaled the scent of her hair, committing it to memory. He decided that he would allow himself this for just a moment.
He wouldn't touch her. He'd just... hold her.
She shifted and he groaned in frustrated arousal. Again she moved, her hips rocking against his. It felt heavenly. It felt almost deliberate.
It felt wrong.
She was sleeping. Twas an innocent thing she did, without the intention to rouse him. He was a knave for taking such illicit pleasure in her touch.
With a silent curse he rolled away from her.
He stared up at the sky, fighting for control over his body. His breathing was ragged. He felt like he was some sort of mad man, on the verge of molesting a woman of the cloth.
What sort of man was he?
Beside him Isabel sighed despondently. She rolled toward him, her body seeking warmth. That's all he was to her. Heat. Whereas she was much, much more.
Temptation incarnate.
He held perfectly still as her arm slid across his body. Geoffrey's breathing became slower and shallower as he did everything in his power not to wake her. Twas not his fault if she wrapped herself around him was it?
Isabel's breasts pressed into his side as her head found it's way to his shoulder. One leg crept over his until he was enveloped in her presence. Her head was under his chin for a moment. And then with a soft sigh, she rolled away.
Geoffrey spent the rest of the night staring at the sky, hoping she would embrace him again. Near dawn he got his wish. Without warning, Isabel's soft body pressed into his side once more. This time she nestled even closer to him. The silky flesh of her arms was ice cold where it pressed against his stomach. He wished he could hoist her against him, warming her with his hands and mouth and body.
And more.
But he did nothing.
Before the rest of the camp began to stir he felt her wake. Green eyes slowly focused on him. He looked down at her lovely, confused face.
"Sir Geoffrey?"
He said nothing, just watched as the wariness crept into her eyes. She scooted away from him abruptly, leaving him bereft. Then she looked at him, her eyes full of shame.
<><><><><>
"I'm sorry."
Isabel felt so humiliated as she stared at the cold and unfeeling Knight. She hadn't meant to curl up against him. He clearly hadn't wanted her to either.
His jaw was clenched as if in anger. But his eyes were flat when he looked at her.
"It's fine Isabel. Twas cold last night. You did nothing untoward."
He stood abruptly and turned toward the forest.
"I will make sure you have another blanket tonight."
He walked away from her, leaving her in a tumult of emotions. To her surprise, she was experiencing more than just embarrassment at her actions in the night. Nay, she felt much more. There was sadness that overwhelmed her. Sadness that she did not have a strong warm man such as he to lay with at night. And longing.
A longing to curl back into his arms.
She could still feel his body against hers, still smell him. He smelled clean and manly all at once. Not unlike her father. She bowed her head, fighting back a sudden onset of tears.
She mustn't cry! Twas foolish in the extreme to cry over things that could never be. She had given her dowry to the convent. Her future lay there, not in the arms of Sir Geoffrey.
For one thing, the man was too handsome by half!
He probably had women throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. No wonder he had been so annoyed! She was just another foolish woman who was irresistibly drawn to his stunning good looks, despite her best intentions.
Secondly, he had made it plain he found her to be a helpless, useless female. He was too arrogant by far! And he didn't even like her!
Nor she, him!
Though if she were honest, that wasn't the entire truth. She admired Geoffrey's strength. The way his men followed him with an unspoken respect and admiration. There was an air of nobility about him.