Bound by Honor

But he reached there, his clever fingers, and found that rising need, and he helped her slip her fingers around his cock, showed her how tightly to hold it . . . and with no further instruction, she knew. She found the rhythm, and he matched it with his fingers between her legs, and it was not long before they both cried out, their bodies sticky and slick and tangling together.

“Robin,” she gasped, her fingers still curled around the softening head of his cock. A thumb stroked gently over the soft, wet rounding, and she felt him twitch gently with every little movement. She could not keep a bit of a smile from her lips. “I am a ward of the queen,” she said. “Not the king.”

“There is that,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. “But she will not take my side over that of John. Until the king returns, and Nottingham tells him all, I am naught but an outlaw. My lands are gone, and I have naught to bring to you, Alys.”

“But, Robin,” she said, smiling against his chest, “I have plenty of lands. I am the heiress to Clervillieres.”

“In Aquitaine?” He stilled against her. “You are the Lady of Clervillieres?” His voice was filled with wonder and disbelief, and rightly so. Clervillieres was a large and powerful fief on the northern border of Aquitaine.

“Aye. And,” she said, her cheeks rounding further with delight, “I have already obtained permission from the queen-nay, ’twas my father who did-to allow me to wed where I will. I merely need to pay a fine-a large one, I am certain-when I do so, marrying a man that has not been selected for me. The queen will not say me nay.”

At that great news, his head popped up from the pallet and he looked down at her. “You are mad, Alys. The queen would never allow that.”

“But she has. My father provided her a special service-do not ask, Robin, for I cannot and will not tell you, for ’twas a most private matter for the queen-and he obtained that permission from her. Why do you think I have not yet wed?”

“Why indeed?” he murmured. “The Lady of Clervillieres. And you are quite certain Eleanor will honor it?”

“Oh, she will honor it, for the money will go into the coffers for her son’s holy war.”

“But I am an outlaw. She will not-”

Alys was shaking her head, looking at him affectionately. “Who knows you are an outlaw? Nottingham and Marian of Morlaix . . . and your companions. None of them will carry tales, I trow.”

“John knows,” he reminded her.

“But Robin Hood was captured at the archery contest. He is in the dungeon. Who is to say you are Robin Hood when he is already found?” She shrugged, spreading her hands wide.

A light came into his eyes. “Could it be that simple?”

“Your men shall travel with us-we’ll leave England, and get far away from John and the others. I’ll send word to Eleanor after we wed, and she’ll impose the fine … but she will not complain. She’ll take the money and grouse about it, but she’ll say naught, for she is too busy trying to keep her two cubs from tearing each other’s throats out.”

“Or, at the least, one of them from tearing at the neck of the other,” Robin said grimly.

“Aye.”

He looked at her, his dimples showing fully for the first time that morning. “I do believe it might happen the way you claim, Alys. How could I be so fortunate as to find a woman who not only loves me but can free me?”

“You are very fortunate. Now you must make one more promise to me.”

“Anything, my love.”

“You must rid yourself of every green riband you have, for I’ll not suffer you spreading them around to the ladies anymore.”

He laughed, long and hard and with great delight. “Alys, my love, you are the only woman for whom I’ll give a green riband. In fact”-his eyes narrowed in wicked thought-“I should very much like to see you dressed only in my green ribands. From head to toe.”

“You have that many of them?” she asked in mock annoyance.

“Nay!” He laughed. “And that is precisely the point.”

CHAPTER 16

“Nay, Marian … do you not see the trap into which I’ve led you?” Will pointed to the bishop that, if she moved her rook, would be free to slide into checkmate.

She pulled her arm back, resting its wrist in her lap, and stared at the game. Her fire-bright hair had been amassed into a loose knot at the back of her neck, but informal, curling tendrils graced her hairline. The wisps fluttered every time she moved, or whenever the breeze touched them. Marian’s slender white wrist was covered by a tight-fitting sleeve of gold embroidered with red hearts and diamonds. He noticed the heavy scattering of golden freckles on the back of her hand, recalling that such coloring could be found elsewhere over her body.

On her breasts, chest, shoulders, arms, the peach-colored tones washed over her fair skin, making it appear warm and rich. His cock shifted, reminding him how lush she’d been, sprawled on a pile of dark furs next to him in John’s massive bed, her fiery hair spread all about her. And how sleek and sensual she’d been, arched over the barrel. Will tightened his lips and forced the thoughts onto the game.