Free Joust of Hearts by Genella deGrey Page A

his tunic as he peeled her robe from her shoulders. He was sucking and licking her neck and lifting her skirts at the same time. She needed this—needed him—and would do anything to feel him inside her. She stopped fussing with his belt and hefted her skirts, exposing her bare thighs.
    Of a sudden, there were footfalls approaching from one of the paths.
    “Melisande. Are you up here?”
    It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over their heads. They stood up and Devin quickly tugged Melisande’s robe back over her shoulders.
    “Is that you, Helena?” Melisande answered shakily, making certain that her hem fell to where it ought to have been.
    “Aye. Where are you?”
    Melisande started to walk forward and Devin grabbed her gently by the waist and pulled her back to his front. “Stand here, love,” he said next to her ear.
    Melisande nodded in response to Devin’s plea and spoke to Helena again. “In the tower.”
    “Oh, there you—” Helena paused, and for the briefest of moments, gaped at them, then recovered. “I am sorry. I have done it again, have I not?”
    “You have done naught, Helena,” she said, trying to comfort her hostess.
    Melisande glanced up at Devin. He simply smiled at Helena, but said nothing.
    Helena dropped her head and spoke to the ground. “I only wanted to inform you that supper was being served in the main hall, but really, there is no need to rush.”
    “I for one am starving. And yourself, Devin?”
    “Aye… Starving .”
    “Devin!” Melisande said softly, with a hint of a giggle in her voice. She brought her arm back and abruptly elbowed Devin in the ribs. She sobered and continued, “We shall join you straightaway, Helena.”
    Melisande started forward, but could yet feel Devin’s warmth as he tarried close behind.

Chapter Eight
     
     
     
    As the trio passed the staircase in the main hall, Melisande excused herself to change her robe, which had gotten soiled somehow.
    Devin spoke to Helena in a low voice. “At this time, I would be once again in your debt if you would refrain from informing Melisande about my knighthood.”
    “What? I do not think I understand—” Helena said, her brows pinched together in puzzlement.
    “I fear I have not fully won the lady’s heart as of yet, you see, and, well… It is difficult to explain.”
    Helena smiled. “Do not concern yourself, young man. I shall keep your secret for now,” she murmured as they approached the dais.
    Melisande joined them at the table moments later. Her new robe was of a deeper green than her gown and was lined with white fur. Devin considered that he was dreaming as he looked upon her, so lovely was she.
    Supper’s attendance consisted of the Bergavnys, Melisande and Devin, an intimate, cozy gathering. Not unlike a real family , he mused, more at ease than he’d been in some time. In contrast to his contentment, Melisande ate and drank as if she was about to be executed and this was her last meal. Devin observed her ravenous appetite as if to ascertain the reasoning. It was unthinkable to him that their meeting in the tower would have upset her overmuch. After all, nothing happened, he thought with a twinge of discontent. If he could have, he would have taken her that instant from the room to his chamber and given her such physical pleasure she’d never have wanted to leave his bed.
    Several times Lord Bergavny tried to make conversation with Devin, but he kept getting cut off by Helena, thank the heavens. He would have given away Devin’s secret for certain. Melisande likely noticed nothing unusual about the behavior at the table, as she was on her third goblet of wine and second game hen.
     
    After supper had been cleared, conversations went on around Melisande as she listened half-heartedly to the murmurings of the people in the room. She’d folded her hands tightly in her lap while she wondered at her reckless behavior and hoped that the fires of hell did not yawn before her. Why