Knight's Prize Read Online Free PDF Page A

speechless.
He'd never seen the maid before in his life. And she didn't have a face he'd
easily forget.
    "He
told me he'd come back for me," she continued, "and as you can see,
he has."
    A faint
breeze could have knocked him over at that mom ent and
perchance taken Helena as well. Helena st ood with her mouth
agape as the damsel looped an arm possessively through his and tugged him
away.
    "Shall we, Rand ?"
    If Rand ’s brains hadn't
been scrambled by that soul-sear ing kiss, he might have figured things
out before they were halfway across the
field. When the truth finally dawned on him,   he stopped so abruptly in his
tracks that the lass colli ded with him. "You."
    She glanced up at
him, her face deceptively sweet, her gaze deceptively wide.
    A glimmer of
recognition crept into his eyes. "You're the wicked
lass from the woods."
    She
raised innocent brows. "I don't know what you mean."
    Wicked and deceitful.
He chuckled, then bent low to whisper, "How else would you know my
name?"
    "Why,
sir," she murmured back, "I cared for you when you were injured at
the tournament. Do you not remember?"
    Her
expression was perfectly guileless, but of course, she was lying. He'd never
come to the tournament.
    He
fought back a grin. If she could bluff, so could he. "My brain was very
scrambled," he admitted.
    They
resumed walking toward the gate, and he smiled, wondering if the little imp
made a habit of spying from the trees. Perchance she singled out eligible
bachelors so she could pounce on them before any other damsel had an
opportunity.
    Not
that he minded. The lass was beautiful and charming, even if she was a
conniving sprite. Indeed, if the woman he'd come to court proved as hostile as
her sister Helena, Rand would gladly suffer
the attentions of this sprite instead for a few days. He might even take his
time hunting for the outlaw if it meant earning more of the damsel's unbridled
kisses.
    But
as they passed the small audience gathered at the fence, Rand began to feel uneasy. Their looks weren't just curious glances, but
gape-mouthed, wide-eyed, gasping stares of disbelief.
    And
suddenly a mortifying possibility wound its way into his thoughts.
    This
was no ordinary lass. Not by the way she'd stood up to the lady of the castle.
And not by the attention she was getting now.
    Almost
afraid to ask, he tentatively cleared his throat. "Forsooth, my lady, I
fear my fall in the melee left my wits quite addled. Will you remind me again
of your name?"
    Her
forgiving smile didn't quite mask the irritation in her eyes. "Of
course," she said sweetly. " 'Tis Mirabel."
    Rand grimaced. He'd walked
straight into the little vixen's trap. "Lady Miriel?" he ventured.
    "You do remember."
    He
sighed. " 'Tis coming back to me now."
    "Is
it? Well, I hope you won't forget it again if you're to court me."
    "By
my spurs, I will not," he vowed. Nor would he forget that earthshaking
kiss. And now, since she'd given him leave to woo her, he looked forward to
many more. Indeed, this mission might turn out far less unpleasant than he'd
expected.
    ************************************
    Miriel's
heart was pounding. Not from the heady thrill of standing up to Helena . Not because she'd
shocked the castle folk by walking past with a strange man upon her arm. Nay,
her blood pumped through her veins with alarming fervor from the stranger's
kiss.
    Lord,
what had she been thinking? She hadn't been thinking. Like
impulsive Helena ,
she'd acted with no regard for the consequences of her actions. If she'd known
how weak-kneed and flutter-hearted one kiss would leave her, she'd have never
done it.
    Of
course, she didn't intend to let him court her for long. Sir Rand was a
completely unsuitable suitor. The knave's proclamations of love were as suspect
as his account of the tournament. She would send him away.
    In a
day or two.
    After
she discovered what he'd been doing in the forest.
    By
then, mayhap she'd have tired of his kisses anyway.
    She
hoped so. Sweet Mary, even now