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“What right do you have over my person? You don’t know me. You don’t know my wants, my needs. Arthur might not either, but he has not forced himself on me, nor has he cornered me in a sacred place of worship. If you do not turn around and leave now, I will scream. Arthur’s guards would be here in a second.”

Melwas freezes as the blade of a knife slips against his throat. I look past him to find Lancelot’s face–fierce but calm. “Or perhaps you step away from the lady and head back to the great hall for some more ale while you still can.” Lancelot continues to hold his knife to Melwas’ throat, daring him to try something.

“Sir Lancelot. Always the white knight,” Melwas sneers.

“Let go of Lady Guinevere, or I will slit your throat.”

“And how would your beloved king feel about you murdering one of his guests?”

“I am confident I will be forgiven once he knows you had cornered his guest of honor in a chapel and sought to abuse her.”

Melwas lets go of my wrist. “I did not come here to do harm. I only wanted–”

“I know what you wanted,” Lancelot spews.

In a huff, Melwas retreats to the chapel’s back door. “This is not over.”

“For you, it is.” Lancelot waits until Melwas walks through the door before turning around to ask if I am unharmed.

“I’m okay, Lance. He just gave me a bit of a scare. But nothing happened.”

“I followed him as soon as I saw him leave after you. The hall was crowded with so many people. I could not get through them fast enough.”

“You are here now.” I grab Lancelot’s hand, placing mine firmly inside it. “Can you walk me back to the keep?”

“Of course, my lady.”

I sigh loudly, annoyed at his formality. “If you call me ‘my lady’ one more time, I’m going to punch you on the nose.”

“I would like to see you try…my lady.”

The smugness needs to be removed from his face. He still holds my right hand, so I swing with my left, connecting to his chin. It’s a harder hit than I intended since I used my weaker hand. Lancelot lets go of my hand, grabbing at his face, his eyes bulging out in shock.

“Oh my God. Lance, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard or at all. I thought you would duck away.”

He is laughing. “I honestly did not think you would attempt a punch.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Perhaps my chin is a little red. I do not think it will bruise though.”

“Let me see.” I push his hand away from his chin, lightly caressing the skin just below his plump lips. It is red but doesn’t look so bad. Though I finished my examination within a coupleof seconds, I find myself moving closer to Lancelot. I am pulled to him like a magnet. I can’t stop myself.

Our lips touch, brushing against each other ever so lightly. I look up into a sea of green full of desire. He wants me. Badly. Instead of doing the responsible, smart, rational thing, I let my heart and body have their way.

Sensing my surrender, Lancelot wraps his arms around me, parting my lips with his. I feel his tongue escape the confines of his mouth, searching, seeking for mine, needing to possess me. My body melts into his, finally at home in this unfamiliar place. Positioning my hands on his chest, I separate our heads to ask Lancelot if he wants to come up to my bedroom.

“There is nothing more I want than to take you in my arms, carry you to bed and call you mine. I want to do this properly though.”

“You mean, court me?” I giggle. My breath is close enough to mingle with his as he lets out an ale-soaked sigh.

“I do not wish to disappoint Arthur. He was kind enough to step aside and give me a chance with you, knowing that I might…that I–”

“That you what?”

“Have feelings for you.”

“Was that so hard?”