The Butcher of St Peter's: (Knights Templar 19) Read Online Free PDF Page A

there, he told himself. Nothing to worry about.
    Her hand reached under his shirt and stroked his belly and thighs, and he lifted himself over her, but even as his weight
     was balanced on his forearms he had a sudden vision of a sword whirling, shearing through his neck. It made him start, and
     distracted him enough to make him begin to withdraw.
    She didn’t appear to notice. Her hand continued its ministrations while she whimpered softly, and he found himself forced
     to continue, as though halting at this moment must question hismanhood. Soon he was moving forward, ready to plant his falchion in her sheath.
    Falchion?
What a thought! Planting a blade in her was the last thing he would think of; he adored her! His manhood began to droop.
    He wanted to swear aloud at the way his mind was diverted, but that was the trouble: no matter what he did with her now, the
     thought of men attacking him here, in his own hall, was never far from him. The idea that someone could enter the place was
     alarming. Jordan le Bolle was a fearsome enemy, and he had the money and the power to murder Reg, even here in the middle
     of Exeter. Christ’s pains, it was mad to be in this place with this woman – especially when his only thoughts were of Jordan’s
     sword aiming at his heart or his head, or … no, it didn’t bear thinking of other places he might attack.
    Reg had some authority and money too, but his star was waning. He was sure of it. The urge for more power was fading. He didn’t
     like his life, his business; he had made his money from other men and women’s suffering. That was wrong.
    In the last few days he’d made enquiries of a man in the market, who was supposed to be good at seeing the future, and although
     he had said the right things – a parcel of money coming his way, the blessing of more sons, ever fruitful business and the
     rest – there had been a reticence about him that had convinced Reg that he saw something else too. When he paid and left,
     he was sure that there was a sort of hard look in the old man’s eyes. He knew, all right … he knew.
    She was at him again, and he realized that the mere thought of that shit of the devil, Jordan le Bolle, had shrivelled his
     tarse as effectively as a cold bath. He was flaccid … he must concentrate to satisfy her. Looking down at her, he studied
     her soft lips, the half-lidded blue eyes, now so wanton, and drankin the picture of her naked breasts and fine white flesh. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and she was
     all his. He settled down, kissing her face and forehead, cheeks, chin, eyelids and nose, while she returned to her skilled
     manipulation, and soon he was ready again.
    He refused to permit any interruptions this time. The bastard wasn’t going to take this away from him. Not again. Le Bolle
     could make a summer’s day feel cold. He had the ability to ruin any experience – even this. Reg carried on kissing, moving
     down her neck to her breasts, and she squirmed with pleasure, emitting small moans of delight as he suckled and licked.
    The furs gave off a warm odour of bodies and musk, and he drank it in as he—
    Shit, shit, shit!
There – there
was
something. His head snapped up and he glowered at the door.
    ‘What is it, lover?’ she asked, her voice low with lust.
    In the room there was a constant swishing and rattling from the heavy drapery that covered the walls. The windows were unglazed,
     and even with the shutters pulled over the spaces, the wind passed through. Now he could see the thick material of the tapestries
     rippling softly. One was hung in front of a beam with a projecting splinter which he had meant to remove ages ago when his
     wife first pointed it out to him, but it was high up and he hadn’t bothered. Now he wished he had. There was a ticking sound,
     then a harsh rasping, as the material moved over it. It was annoying.
    Christ’s pain, but this was ridiculous! There was nothing. Surely there was