Knight of Desire Read Online Free PDF

began.
    So, her opening gambit was a blatant attempt to appease him.
    “You did not seem to think so upon first hearing it.” He meant to convey amusement, but a trace of anger showed in his voice.
    Ignoring his remark, she continued. “I understand the king gave you a choice.”
    Her slight emphasis on the word
you
was not lost on him.
    “In sooth, he did not,” he said with a shrug. “I could not have it on my conscience that a lady might be unjustly imprisoned
     when I could prevent it.”
    “Many men in your position would not make the same choice.”
    Only if they had not laid eyes upon her. Any man who looked upon that face would not find the choice a difficult one. Desire
     burned in him, hot and demanding, at the thought that he would have her in his bed this very night. The knowledge that she
     betrayed her first husband and loathed the idea of marrying him did not dampen his ardor at all.
    Desiring her was one thing. Trusting her, quite another.
    “Will you flatter me by saying you prefer marriage to me over imprisonment, or do you yet see the two as equal?” Again, he
     was unable to keep the edge from his tone.
    She had the grace to blush. “My objection was to another marriage and so soon,” she murmured, dropping her eyes. “Not marriage
     to you, in particular.”
    “Well, it is about me, is it not?” he snapped.
    His instinct for masking his feelings had been honed at an early age. Why did it fail him now? Exasperated with himself, he
     got up from the table and stood with his back to her, looking out the window. Hell, he would have married her, regardless
     of his own desires. But now he wanted her. Badly. Very badly. He hoped she had not seen it.
    Her next words brought him sharply back to the conversation.
    “I will agree to marry you on one condition.”
    He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “You believe you are in a position to bargain?”
    “I do.”
    The firmness in her tone told him she had seen the naked desire in his eyes and realized the power it gave her.
    “Your safety, your home, your position—these are not sufficient reasons for you?” he asked.
    “If you cannot also promise me this,” she said, unmoved, “I will choose exile or prison, rather than wed you.”
    He could not believe his ears. She
preferred
prison to marrying him. “What is it, then, that you must have from me?”
    She took a shaky breath, giving away how tense she was beneath her outward calm. Still, she looked directly into his eyes
     as she made her demand.
    “I must have assurances about my son. You must promise me that you will not harm him. More, that you will protect him and
     his interests.” She cleared her throat. “That is my price.”
    He told himself she did not know him, could not know how much her words affronted him. Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside
     her and placed his hand on top of hers on the table. She flinched but did not attempt to remove it.
    “I will do these things,” he said, holding her gaze, “and I would have done them without your asking.”
    She hesitated, then gave him a faint smile.
    At that moment, the subject of their discussion burst into the room. Lady Catherine did not chastise the child for interrupting.
     Instead, she enveloped the boy in her arms, kissing the top of his dark curls. The love between mother and son was so palpable
     that William felt warmed by his nearness to it. His throat felt tight, and he knew he wanted this also for his own children.
    The bishop entered the room at a slower pace.
    “I asked you to come, Your Grace,” Lady Catherine said, “because there are certain promises that must be included in the marriage
     contract.”
    So that was her purpose in calling for the bishop. His oral assurances made in private were not sufficient.
    William was not offended. On the contrary, he admired the lady’s determination—and her cleverness—in finding a means of binding
     him to his pledge. He hoped she would be as fierce in