< previous page page_247 next page >

Page 247
Helplessly, Joanna shook her head. What ailed Geoffrey to talk such nonsense? What was really troubling him? Moreover, it was usless to say what a woman thought of a man's duty and honor. Besides, she was a lady and did not use such languageat least, not often.
"Let me unarm you," she insisted, not knowing in what other way to help him.
She bent forward to grasp the hauberk so that Geoffrey need only lift himself a few inches for her to draw it over his hips. The scent of spice and roses was very strong on her night-warm body. Geoffrey's arms went around her and pulled her down onto his lap. He kissed her hungrily, her lips and throat.
"God knows when we can marry," he groaned. "Do you understand that this time the Welsh will not yield? They have had a taste of John and do not want another. They will empty their cities and let us burn them. The war may continue for years."
Pleasure rushed through Joanna. It was not politics but passion that was unsettling Geoffrey. She pulled her face away enough to take in Geoffrey's hungry eyes, his usually flexible, thin lips full and rigid now with desire. The thin silk night robe was little protection against the rings of steel that bruised her arms and back. She did not know what to say and her treacherous body was urging her to yield, desire already overriding discomfort, dulling the pain his fierce embrace gave her. Indeed, his grip was little less brutal than Braybrook's when he seized her in the boat, but Joanna did not shrivel with fear and revulsion.
"Geoffrey" she whispered, having not the faintest idea of what she would say next.
"Nothing I can do will content me," he muttered, pulling her close again to nuzzle under her hair and kiss her throat. "I want you, Joanna. The desire for you grows and grows. You hang before my eyes when I lie alone at night and evenoh, God"
Joanna neither laughed nor became angry, although she knew quite well what Geoffrey had almost confessed. Even

 
< previous page page_247 next page >