Free Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry by A Knight's Victory Page A

come back from.
    So much emotion flowed from them both as they nibbled, sucked and stroked at each other’s mouths.
    Sinful it was, how her body reacted to him. She was a wanton. An adulteress. Or was she? She’d pledged herself to Michael and he alone. Her marriage to Kent was a farce in her eyes.
    Her nipples hardened, pressing painfully against her tight stays. Between her thighs was warm, wet, flooded. Was something wrong? How could she feel so delicious, so beautiful, sensual ? This couldn’t be right.
    But it felt right and good. Every part of her sang for something more, but what? How much better could it get?
    Lord how she wished she could declare her love for Michael and have him sweep her away. She’d give anything—even her soul, however blasphemous it was—to spend her life with him.
    Even if it cost her an eternity in purgatory.
     

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    “I have to get you back to your tent, my love.” Michael settled her back on the ground, his jaw muscles clenching fiercely. Returning her to Kent was the last thing he wanted to do.
    In the shadows he saw her head bow as she nodded. “ Aye , I have tarried too long already . B ut you mustn’t come with me. I must return on my own.”
    “If ’ tis all the same to you, Elena, I would see you safely returned.” He let his determination shine through his voice.
    She laughed , the sound enchanting . “You are still the same. A true gentleman. I would be pleased for you to accompany me, but you must at least put on a cloak.”
    She pulled her hood over her head, and was once again concealed from his vision. Michael grabbed his tunic and threw it on over his head before pulling a cloak around his shoulders, and a hood over his head , pulled low over his brow, to hide his identity. They left just as quietly as she’d arrived. He followed her quick steps through the spaces made between tents, amongst the shadows, behind tents, through puddles of God only knew what… He preferred to think it was simply water, even though it hadn’t rained in a week—and the stench was a clear indicator.
    Suddenly, a boisterous trio stumbled into their path.
    “Ye want to wager? The bear’s in a fighting mood. Dogs will never win,” one shouted.
    “No , thank you,” Michael replied.
    “ Whatsa matter? Ye look like ye’ve got the coin. Pay up!”
    Michael grasped Elena’s wrist and yanked her between two tents. He covered her from head to foot with his cape, tucking her against him.
    He kept the trio at bay with a few choice words —not wanting to bring too much attention to them. The drunken group grumbled, but then muddled along.
    Once Michael was sure they were alone, he nodded to Elena. They continued their trek through the tents, until she stopped before one set slightly aside from the others, larger, but other than that, held no discriminating features like the flags set on posts near Kent’s.
    “This is yours?” he whispered.
    She nodded and answered in hushed tones, “I do not like to be noticed.”
    He would always notice her, not matter what. He reached out, stroked his fingers down her cheek and smiled. He glanced around. Not a soul in sight .
    “One last kiss?”
    Elena leaned up to give Michael a swift kiss, fighting against her desire to linger. His lips were so soft and warm. His taste intoxicating. In the shadow of the night, only the moon and stars lit their surroundings. A soft breeze blew chilly summer air, carrying with it the scents of the tournament. Some sweet, some foul.
    She pulled back suddenly from his kiss—she’d allowed herself to become carried away once more. His dazed eyes met hers. She took the opportunity in his befuddlement to shove him away—lest she lose her nerve and cling to him all night. He barely wave red. She needed to move fast before he could stop her.
    “Elena?”
    She ignored his question, whirled around, lifted the tent’s side and ducked underneath.
    “Wait,” he hissed, but she was already inside