Free Rogue Knight (Medieval Warriors Book 2) by Regan Walker

was staring at, a man he
heartily disliked, a braggart whose mouth was never silent. Sir Eude de
Fourneaux.
    It took him but a moment to realize her intent.
    Striding toward her, Geoff grabbed her arm beneath her
cloak. Their eyes met and at once he discerned her intent. “Do not, lady. Else
he would see you dead.”
    “I did not come for him, though I would kill him if I could.
I came to seek your help if your offer is still good.”
    Before he could assure her it was, the man whom she had
stalked focused his attention on them.
    “What vision is this, Sir Geoffroi? We could happily use
another wench this night. One to sheathe my most worthy sword.” Eude’s words
were slurred with the drink he had consumed, but his meaning was clear enough.
    Eude’s friends laughed and shouted for Geoff to remove
Emma’s cloak. “Let us see the prize you have there!”
    Without taking his eyes from Emma, Geoff said, “I saw her
first, Eude.”
    “You could share,” came the lazy retort.
    In her eyes, Geoff saw both fear and determination. She
would not shy from murder, but with the knights’ attention drawn to her, she
knew she was in grievous danger. Conversations broke off as men at the tables
paused to observe the confrontation.
    Into the silence, he said in a commanding voice, “I never
share.”
    The mercenary rose, a few of his companions with him. Geoff
reached for Emma, pulling her against his chest. She was slender and her
resistance fleeting against his knight’s strength. “If you would be spared
their lust, do not fight me,” he whispered.
    He claimed her mouth as an act of possession, a
demonstration to the assembled knights that she was his. But when their lips
touched, it was he who was claimed. Her mouth was soft and inviting, the taste
of her as sweet as summer wine. The attraction he had felt for her before now
surged in his veins. Urging her lips open, his tongue found the warmth within.
She responded. In the honey of her kiss, his rising passion was echoed in his
loins. Alone in their own world, the kiss continued.
    Hearing the jeers behind him, he broke the embrace, though
it cost him to do so. Breathing heavily, he stared into her beautiful
blue-green eyes.
    She shifted her passion-filled gaze to the floor.
    Turning to the knights, who had slowed their approach, he
announced, “As you see, the lady is mine, I have claimed her.”
    “Leave off, Eude,” urged one of the man’s friends. “’Tis Sir
Geoffroi you challenge, a favorite of the king. He is the right arm of the Red
Wolf and his sword is just as deadly.”
    At his words, Eude and his companions lost interest in their
mission and returned to their table.
    “There are plenty of wenches in the city,” Eude blustered.
    At Geoff’s side, Emma stiffened.
    He waited until he was certain the other knights would not
pursue them, then escorted her to his chamber, his arm tight around her
shoulder.
    Once inside his chamber, he dropped his arm, walked to the
table near the brazier and poured her a goblet of wine. “Here,” he said,
handing it to her.
    With unsteady hands, she took it and drank, her chest rising
and falling with apparent emotion. She had been more nervous than he had
initially thought. Mayhap more afraid. Or was she also moved by the kiss they
had shared?
    No matter the cause, her presence worried him. Such a
beautiful woman should not be out alone, much less in a castle full of men with
too few whores to share. He took in her clothing, that of a servant and ill
fitting. “What could you have been thinking to come to the castle? And how did
you gain admittance?”
    Holding the goblet between her hands, she stepped to the
brazier as if seeking its heat. “I came as a servant. The guards gave me a bit
of trouble but apparently the need for serving wenches is great. I answered
their questions and they admitted me.”
    His brows drew together at the ridiculous notion. “No one
would see you as a servant, even in those