Free A Knight's Temptation by Catherine Kean Page A

her, to murder her elsewhere?
    Whatever he intended, she’d not be a coward; she’d give him a fight he’d never forget. Through countless scuffles when they were children, Ward—peace upon his departed soul—had made certain she knew how to defend herself.
    Aldwin shifted her upon his shoulder and then his hold on her legs eased. Freeing her hands from his cloak, she curled them into fists, preparing to strike out at him. Faster than she believed possible, he bent, set her feet on the ground, and stepped back.
    Finally upright again, she fingered hair out of her eyes. The forest spun around her, and it took a moment before it settled into focus. Her numb legs wobbled.
    Before her legs folded beneath her, Aldwin caught her wrist, his hold firm but, at the same time, reassuring.
    She scowled and tried to pull away.
    “Can you stand?”
    “Aye.”
    “Your legs are no longer numb?”
    Not as much as before, but they still feel as if insects are crawling up them .
    She began to shake, struggling against the memories of bees on her skin. Why did he care about the condition of her legs? Lifting her chin, she glared at him.
    “Good.” He grinned as if she’d bestowed upon him her most affectionate smile.
    He didn’t let go of her arm.
    Before she could tell him to unhand her, he hauled her toward a tree. Stumbling and skidding across the moldering leaves, she was forced to follow. A saddled destrier stood tethered to the tree. The magnificent animal seemed to recognize Aldwin, for it shook its mane and then nuzzled his shoulder.
    “Hello, Romulus.” He patted the horse’s glossy neck and then reached for the leather bag tied to the saddle. Or was he reaching for the crossbow, slung beside the bag? Fired at this close range, she’d be dead before she could draw in a breath. A quick, efficient murder.
    “Nay!” she gasped and yanked back on her arm. His fingers tightened on her wrist until she gasped again. He flipped open the saddlebag, plunged his hand inside, and drew out a length of thin, leather rope. It uncoiled, whispering toward the ground like a snake.
    He meant to bind her before he shot her. Revulsion turned her mouth dry. As though she were a young girl again, she remembered being tied to the tree, unable to move, the ropes digging into her skin.
    Aldwin’s head tilted. Silvery moonlight touched the hard gleam of his eyes and uncompromising set of his mouth. “Give me your other wrist, Lady L.”
     

Chapter Five
     
     
    When Lady L’s face tautened with fear and rebellion, Aldwin bit back an oath. She seemed determined to battle him at every opportunity. When would she accept ’twould be far more pleasant for both of them if she did as he asked?
    He drew more of the rope between his fingers. She was no titled lady, worthy of delicate handling. Still, he’d rather not force her to his demands.
    But he would.
    Her men would soon be searching for her outside, and he intended to be gone from this forest by then.
    “Lady L.” He gestured to her free wrist, while keeping an iron grip on the other.
    Her gaze narrowed, and then she glanced at the trees behind him, no doubt searching for a way of escape. Uncertainty glimmered in her eyes, and a peculiar tension squeezed his innards. An inconvenient sense of chivalry.
    From his youngest days, he’d aspired to live by the knight’s code of honor, to respect those of noble birth, to fight for his king and lord, and to champion those less fortunate or in peril. Binding a woman’s hands and whisking her off into the night, against her will, seemed a contradiction of those morals.
    At least some of them. His duty to de Lanceau, however, took priority over her needs. If her testimony could save Moydenshire from the baron and Veronique’s evil, then he must take her to Branton Keep. As quickly as possible.
    “I will ask but one more time,” he said quietly.
    Lady L’s focus snapped back to him. Her eyes looked huge against her ashen skin, her face taut