Knight Errant by Rue Allyn Read Free Book Online Page A

her above the crowd.
    “Nay!” she cried, scared beyond reason.
    A few nearby heads turned. She saw several men shift as if to help her, while the hands pulled and turned her through the air to land against Sir Robert’s solid chest.
    Relief stole her breath, and she inhaled deeply. “Thank—”
    He covered her mouth with his own. “Pretend you like this, or the mob will tear us apart,” he growled against her lips.
    She had no chance to answer and no need to pretend. As she already knew, she liked his kisses too much. The moment she opened her lips, he thrust his tongue within, locking her to him.
    Roaring filled her ears, and her entire body went lax. He pulled her tighter against him. His arms kept her from falling. His taste filled her mouth. His scent washed through her. She twisted her fingers in the hair at his nape and kissed him back. Sweet, succulent, searing hot kisses.
    Her heart beat a rapid counterpoint to the drums that sounded at her back. The drums! The priests. She was in the midst of a crowd, kissing Robert as a holy procession passed by. She broke the kiss, turned her head, and pushed against his chest.
    She wanted to see what was happening. She needed to distance herself from terrifying pleasure.
    She strained away from him but could not loosen his hold on her body. Faces leered at her, mouthing words she had no hope of understanding, but their crude meaning was clear in the lewd expressions and gestures of the speakers.
    “We need to leave here, Juliana.” The drums nearly drowned Robert’s voice.
    She looked up the street and stared into the vacant eyes of the most brutalized woman she had ever seen. Tattered rags provided scant covering for the pitiful creature who carried a large bundle of sticks on her back. Though how she managed to walk, Juliana did not know, for the woman’s feet were black with burns and bruises. Blood streaked her legs and arms. Swelling and cuts marred a once pretty face. Her jaw hung slack as if it had been broken. She slowed as she passed, and the priest who walked behind the wretch prodded her in the buttocks with a sharp metal rod.
    Juliana sagged back against Robert, seeking shelter in the arms she had so recently fought to escape.
    The procession passed, with the last of the priests intoning in Latin. This Juliana understood.
    “Listen, and know that for the sins of heresy and pride, the Beguine known as
Sorella Seraphina della Matina
is condemned to burn in hell, as will all who defy God and his commandments. This by the order of Fra Giorgio Basti,
Il Mano de Dei
.” The voice droned on, but Juliana did not need to hear more. Sickened to the depths of her soul, she bent her head to her knight’s broad shoulder and wept.
    • • •
    Juliana heard the door slam shut behind Sir Robert, but she did not open her eyes until he set her carefully on a bench in the private sitting room of the inn. The image of the Beguine’s pain would live with her forever, sharing room in her mind with the terrifying passion of his kiss.
    When his lips touched hers, she had wanted to grasp his forearms tighter and feel his heat rise to her palms, stroke his armor-hard muscles, and tickle her fingertips with the fine black hairs at his nape. Lust, pure and simple lust. ’Twas no denying the sin, and she prayed for the blessing of forgiveness every night since Sir Robert had ridden into her life. The sin of lust was enough, but for more reasons than she cared to count, she dared not yield to that attraction. Not least was the power it would give him over her. Though she doubted he would harm her physically, she still had good reason to fear Sir Robert Clarwyn. He was forbidden fruit, and she must resist tasting that fruit or all would be lost: the beguinage in Palermo, the secrets held there, her independence, and, worst of all, her heart.
    She knew why he had kissed her. What she did not understand was how, in the face of all the crowd and cruel sorrow surrounding the two of