Page 120 of The Champion

She cupped his head and lifted herself up to kiss him. He laid them both back as he nibbled her lips and stroked her face with his hand.

She felt his heart pounding against her breasts. He lay his head down on her shoulder and held her quietly as they both floated back down into their bodies.

“Stay with me tonight, Rowena,” Stryder said quietly. “I want to lay with you in my arms while I sleep.”

She started to tell him it was impossible, then bit back the words. She had covered for her ladies-in-waiting to go trysting with their lovers enough times that they owed her a favor just this once.

Not that her uncle would seek her out in her bed chambers this late. He never did.

His routine was flawless. After supper each night, he would retire to Henry’s quarters, where he and the king would play chess for a bit, and then Lionel would seek his own bed.

He never disturbed her.

She could stay and no one would ever know, except for them and her ladies.

“I shall need you to fetch Bridget in the morning and have her bring me a fresh gown so that no one will know I stayed here,” she said quietly.

He pulled back and stared down at her incredulously. “You’ll stay?”

“Aye.”

His eyes dancing, he picked her up from the floor and carried her to his bed.

Rowena covered herself with his blanket as she watched him gather their clothes and bring them to the arming chest beside his overly large cot. Here in his bed, she was inundated with his intoxicating scent. It clung to the blanket, the pillows and most of all, it clung to her, marking her effectively as his.

He pulled closed the thick canvas material that separated his sleeping area from the rest of the tent and blew out the candles.

The sudden darkness was a bit frightening until she felt the bed dip underneath his weight.

Stryder gathered her into his arms and held her close to his naked body. Sighing in contentment, she folded herself into him and just inhaled his warm, masculine scent.

“Stryder?”

He tensed at the sound of Swan’s voice on the other side of the divider. “I’m sleeping, Swan. If you value your life, disturb me not.”

“Are you alone?”

“swan!” His tone was sharp and deadly. “Turn about, head out of my tent or so help me, I shall send you to attend duties in Outremer.”

“Good night, my lord,” Swan said stiffly, then he added in an equally sharp tone. “And you’d best be alone.”

Stryder let out a disgusted noise as they heard Swan leave. “I swear, I should hire him out as a wet nurse.”

She muffled her laughter against his shoulder. “He would make a good one, wouldn’t he?”

“Aye, provided the poor child assigned to him didn’t murder him in his sleep.”

She laughed again, then settled down to rest quietly in his arms.

Closing her eyes, it didn’t take her long to drift off into sleep. But as she surrendered herself to Morpheus, one thought hovered in the back of her mind.

She had been with Stryder far more times than she should have, and within the week, she should have her flow.

What if she didn’t?

Stryder awoke just before dawn to find Rowena snoring ever so softly beside him. He smiled at the sound and at the sight of her nestled against his shoulder with her hand tucked underneath her chin. Her long, blond hair fanned out behind her, falling over the edge of his cot.

She was beautiful in the faint light. Tempted for a quick tryst, he refrained. Rowena looked tired and no doubt could use her sleep. She’d told him that she’d been having trouble sleeping ever since Elizabeth’s death.