The Lion and the Crow Read Online Free PDF

softness. It had been sharply disappointing that William had turned out to be such a man. But it did have the advantage of keeping Christian from acting a fool.
    No longer. When William looked at him now there was warmth in his eyes; now he smiled, now he was generous, now he was kind. Now his eyes lingered instead of shying away. Those long looks, those lovely, aggravating, bewildering looks, made Christian hope and burn. And except when they passed through a village, he was alone with William day and night.
    If he’d thought Sir William was handsome before, it was nothing to how he felt now. It was like watching a distant rider grow more and more defined the closer he got— familiarity bred an acute awareness of every part of the man. William was solid as an oak and muscled from long days of training and battle. His sturdy waist and chest seemed to call Christian to wrap his arms around them. William’s eyes were like the sea after a storm, sucking Christian in. And his lips— whether they smiled and sang, or were pensive and sad— made Christian’s own mouth itch with a need to press against them.
    Now it was Christian who looked away, afraid his eyes would reflect the hard, bitter edge of his yearning.
    Looking away did not help. He was never less than half hard, and the woods along their route had seen enough of his covertly spilled seed to found a forest of Brandons, could babes grow as trees did. William must be beginning to wonder if Christian had a malfunction of the kidneys, he disappeared so often and so long.
    It went against Christian’s nature to be circumspect. You did not grow up the youngest of seven boys and not learn to take what you needed and what you wanted, roughly if necessary. You grabbed for the platter of meat as it hit the table or your belly went empty, and no one would feel sorry for you and rectify that. That lesson had been ingrained in him from his youth.
    That part of Christian wanted to act boldly. It was cruelly unfair. His brothers were never troubled by lust. If they wanted a maid, they pulled her into their lap and began pawing her. If she had serious objections, she’d knock them upside the head with a mug or a platter and they would find another. But Christian’s desires were another matter. They were like hidden daggers turned inward, and he knew if he pressed forward, he might just bleed to death.
    Especially with William. To make an advance on another knight could prove deadly. He might be rewarded with a broken arm or a formal challenge. If the man was slightly less offended, Christian might merely be sent home in shame. The worst part about that was he would have let William down. He wouldn’t be able to fulfill his pledge to help William rescue his sister. William would be forced to cast him off and carry on alone— alone and with even fewer chances than he already had.
    So Christian resigned himself to silence. He would say, do, nothing until the business with William’s sister was done. If they both survived, he would make it clear to William, perhaps by moving in slowly for a kiss— I want to lie with you . And then, should William not feel the same, he might at least be obliged enough to Christian to send him home rather than force them to single combat or expose him publically.
    The possibility of rejection was terrifying. Christian had never dared make his interest blatantly known to a man before. But then, he’d never desired anyone this much, nor been as wracked with speculation and second-guessing. He would gladly take a clear-cut rejection over wondering and wishing, over pondering the meaning of William’s every glance.
    It was a reasonable plan. But it was not perfect. One or both of them might not survive the confrontation with Somerfield. And even if they did, they would then be travelling with William’s sister. If there was even a small chance that the handsome knight returned his interest, this could be their only chance to indulge it.
    But