Page 14 of A Lover for Lady Jane (The Welsh Rebels #5)

Chapter Eight

G riffin could still feel Jane’s silky lips on the tip of his tongue.

Her taste still filled his mouth. Honey and rose petals, just like he’d imagined, enhanced by a subtle scent of something earthier, like…

was it freshly baked bread? Toasted by the fire?

With a hint of smoke? It could well be, even if it was a surprising scent for a lady.

He’d imagined she’d smell like some exotic, costly spice a farmer’s son would never get to sample.

What the hell had happened earlier? One moment they had been about to go to sleep, and the next she’d been draped all over his body, kissing him to within an inch of his life.

He had not seen any of it coming. They had shared an expected moment of intimacy, talking about Ffion’s betrayal and his sister’s inability to accept her heritage, and the next thing his finger had slid inside her wet heat.

How could he have allowed himself to lose all sense of propriety thus?

Admittedly, she had been the one taking the initiative, but he should have stopped her.

Griffin groaned. Stop her? How exactly could he have done that while his blood was on fire?

It had been impossible not to kiss her back when she had thrown herself at him.

From then on, it had been only natural to take over and roll her under him.

Once she’d been lying on the moss hole like a gem in its velvet box, he had not been able to resist the temptation of baring her breasts.

And as soon as he’d seen them in all their glory, he had known he would not move until he’d savored their round perfection and transformed the soft pink nipples into taut little peaks.

From then on, what had followed had been inevitable.

How could he have refused Jane the pleasure she so clearly craved?

She had begged him to make the aching stop, but there had been no need.

He would rather have cut off his own arm than deny her what she wanted.

The oddest thing was that he had not felt any frustration when Jane had fallen asleep in his arms a moment ago.

Well, his manhood had been painfully hard, of course, and it still was stiff as a lance now, demanding its prize, but the pleasure of seeing her surrender to his caresses, of gifting her with what no other man had, of feeling her spasm around his fingers had been more than enough to satisfy his mind.

His arms wrapped protectively around her, he finally fell asleep, wishing they could remain like this until dusk.

But if one thing was guaranteed in life, it was that all good things came to an end.

Griffin woke up to a sensation of cold after what felt like a very short sleep.

His eyes shot up to the sky overhead, which could be seen above the swaying trees.

While they’d slept, it had gone heavy with clouds and the wind had started to blow fiercely.

Damnation, a storm was brewing. They would have to leave before it descended upon them.

Leaving Jane to sleep a moment longer, he went about saddling Eryr then came back to the hollow to wake her up.

“Jane. My lady.” His finger glided over a velvety cheek and followed the delicate curve of her jaw. He hated having to disturb her when she was evidently tired, but they had to leave. The forest would be too dangerous a place to be in a storm.

Slowly, with his caresses, he coaxed her back to consciousness. She hadn’t lied about being a deep sleeper. The thought caused a smile to bloom on his lips. Was he destined to find everything about her endearing? It appeared so.

“Jane,” he repeated.

“Mm, Griffin?” she mumbled, rubbing her cheek against his hand in an instinctive reaction. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but a storm is brewing. We’ll need to find shelter.”

Slowly, she sat up and looked around, bewildered. “A storm?”

“Yes.” The temperature had significantly gone down, and the branches around them were creaking dangerously. There was no time to lose. “Come. Eryr is waiting for us.”

He helped her up on unsteady legs. Coward that he was, he was glad to have an excuse to leave without delay, because he was not quite sure he would have resisted the temptation of another kiss had they woken up in each other’s embrace.

And now that he knew what kissing the delicious Lady Jane led to, he could not take the risk.

After vaulting onto the saddle, he steered the horse toward a fallen log and hoisted Jane up in front of him, in her customary place. As soon as they’d exited the forest, he nudged the stallion into a trot.

“Where will we go?”

“I remember seeing a village beyond that hill,” he answered, talking above the howling wind.

“Yes, so do I. Mayhap someone will agree to let us sleep in the stable for the night?”

Behind her, Jane felt Griffin recoil at her suggestion, as shocked as if she’d just said they could spend the night rolling in pig waste.

“In the stables? A lady cannot?—”

“It will be better than being out in the open in our wet clothes,” she reasoned. “Sleeping on hay will not kill me. Didn’t I survive a night, or rather a day, on the stone floor of a cave? A stable will not be worse.”

Jane could sense the struggle going on in his mind and forced herself not to laugh, knowing Griffin would only think she was mocking him. She was not. She loved how determined on offering her every comfort he seemed to be, even while they were on the road, and fleeing men intent on hurting them.

“Very well,” he said eventually. “There seems to be little choice. The rain won’t hold off for much longer.”

“No.” The horizon was now a deep shade of purple. The blue sky of earlier had been completely swallowed by the mass of swirling clouds and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

“We won’t reveal your identity,” Griffin said, launching the horse into a canter. “That way if Geraint and his men ask around, no one will tell them they saw a lady in the village.”

Jane nodded. Saying that she was the daughter of Lord Sheridan, who was well-known and liked round these parts would no doubt help convince people to offer them shelter but Griffin was right. In the circumstances, it was better if no one knew who she was.

“So… Shall we just be a husband and wife traveling together?”

It was the obvious solution, considering they were unaccompanied and riding the same horse, but Griffin seemed reluctant to agree, as if fearing she would be offended by the notion. This time she couldn’t prevent a smile. How could he be so self-assured and so timid at the same time?

“I cannot presume—” he started.

“You’re not presuming anything, I’m the one suggesting it.

We don’t want to raise suspicion,” she reminded him.

It was the important part. “I will make sure to speak Welsh within the people’s hearing so they don’t think me English.

Remember, Geraint and his men think I cannot speak the language.

If they ask around, they will be told about a Welsh woman traveling with her husband, not about an English fugitive lady and her escort. ”

“Of course. You are remarkably resourceful, you know that?”

She didn’t. At least she hadn’t, not until the moment she had been abducted, which was perhaps not surprising.

Her life had been free of danger and fear, so there had been no need to resort to trickery of any sort.

But it pleased her to see she was indeed capable of taking the initiative when need be, and that Griffin appreciated her efforts.

To him, she was more than a beautiful woman, even if he did desire her.

Heat flooded her when she remembered what had happened earlier that day.

Because of the storm, they were acting as if she had not thrown herself into his arms and kissed him with all the passion she was capable of.

As if he’d not bared her breasts and suckled her for long, delicious moments, groaning his appreciation all the while.

As if he’d not coaxed explosive pleasure from her quivering body and left her limp as a rag doll in the aftermath.

But these things had happened. For the moment they had to find shelter, but she wondered what would happen once they were free to look at one another and talk.

It started slowly, but the fine drizzle drenching the land soon became a veritable deluge. Jane hunched her shoulders and burrowed further into Griffin’s embrace.

By the time they reached the village, they were both soaked to the bone.

Griffin led them to the first farm that had a barn at the side.

From the way he banged at the door, Jane feared no one would open, thinking, quite understandably, that they might be under attack, but she was wrong.

An old lady appeared through the door crack, thereby demonstrating considerable strength of character.

“What do you want?” Despite the abrupt question, she didn’t sound unkind.

“Please, my wife and I have been caught by the storm and require shelter for the night.”

“We are on our way home after a visit to my cousin in town, and did not see the storm coming,” Jane added, making sure to be heard speaking flawless Welsh, as planned. “We set off in the morning, thinking it a fine winter’s day.”

“Mmpf, fine as it was when it started, anyone could have known it would turn in the afternoon,” the old woman said, clearly thinking that young people these days didn’t know anything.

“Still, I suppose I could allow a poor, exhausted woman and a strapping young man to sleep in the hay tonight in exchange for a favor on the morrow?”

“Anything,” Griffin agreed.

“The door of the barn is in sore need of repair. Perhaps you could see to it before leaving?”

He glanced at Jane as if to ask her opinion. She nodded her agreement, even if the repairs would mean a delay. After all, they were not in a desperate hurry to get to Castell Esgyrn. The important thing was to get warm and make sure not to be captured again.