Colette Gale - Bound by Honor

A rope ladder dropped down and he clambered up quickly. Someone was nearly always left on guard in the tree house, but in the event that everyone had been called away, the rope ladder was left up inside the hideaway and the first arrival climbed up using the less direct route of branch to branch, tree to tree.

“What ho,” Robin said as his head rose above the floor of the building. “Any news?” He glanced briefly around and saw that three of his men sat or crouched about the room. . and then he saw her.

“Aye, now.” Robin smiled and climbed the rest of the way into the room, pulling up the ladder automatically behind him. “And who might this be?”

At first he didn’t recognize her, for she’d been sitting in the shadows. . but at his greeting, she stood and moved into the dappled light that filtered through the leafy trees above and around them. “Release me at once,” she demanded.

It was the woman he’d noticed last eve, in the great hall. The girlish one with the pretty heart-shaped face whose name he didn’t know. She was also the one who’d been riding alongside Marian and Joanna today during the hunt. He’d heard just that part of their conversation as he watched their approach from high in the trees, hoping to catch Marian alone.

As he recalled, this woman had called him foolish, with great disdain dripping from her voice. She’d been jealous, for she was the only one of the ladies who hadn’t had the pleasure of a visit from the outlaw.

Robin could easily rectify that.

“My lady,” he said with a flourishing bow. “You are welcome to our little hideaway in the trees. May I introduce myself?”

“I am well aware of your identity,” the woman replied. She was standing straight and as tall as her petite figure would allow-which was not so very tall at all. Mayhap she would reach to his shoulder. If she stood on her toes.

“Then you must have the advantage of me,” Robin said, still smiling.

He glanced at his boon companion John Little, who for all his great size and burliness appeared to be more than a bit cowed by this slip of femininity. Despite her diminutive figure, she was most definitely a woman. A woman with breasts the size of the very large oranges Robin had eaten in Greece, a tiny begirdled waist, and rounded hips. And lush pink lips that, if they deigned to pout, would look like crinkled velvet petals. . but at this moment were flattened into a line oozing with disgust.

“I demand that you release me, Robin Hood,” she said. “Your men had no right to bring me here.” She crossed her arms under those lovely breasts and, for a moment, Robin found himself distracted as they lifted, adjusted, and jiggled gently.

Then he realized that silence had fallen and all were waiting for him to respond. “But how did you come to be here?” he asked, allowing a sympathetic sparkle to come into his eyes.

“My horse threw a shoe,” she said. Of necessity, her mouth relaxed a bit. Her upper lip was more full and luscious than her lower lip, and right then, Robin knew where he wanted that lovely mouth to be. His cock, which had been raging since he left Marian tied to the tree, lifted yet again, boldly reminding him that it had been much too long since it had been somewhere dark and moist and tight.

Mayhap she would be friendlier if they were alone.

Robin looked at the three men who’d edged away from the woman as soon as their leader arrived: John Little, Allan-a-Dale, and a most uncomfortable-looking Friar Tuck, dressed in his robes. “Is there aught you can attend to below while my lady and I converse?”

They didn’t need to be asked twice, for John leapt out of his seat as quickly as his bulk allowed and tossed the rope ladder down without hesitation. “Aye,” he said, giving no excuse as he disappeared down the ladder, the ropes straining and creaking against the wooden floor.

“A brace of hares would make a nice stew this night,” Allan said, moving just as eagerly toward the opening. “Tuck, would you like to come along with me and carry my extra arrows?”

Moments later, Robin and the blond woman were left alone. She’d done nothing but stand there, arms crossed under her breasts, foot tapping on the floor beneath the overlong hem of her riding gown.

“I do hope you don’t intend to rape me now,” she said. Annoyance-not fear or even apprehension-blazed through every pore of her fine body.

Robin blinked and closed his mouth. Then opened it. “My lady, I should never resort to such an assault.” He smiled comfortingly at her.

“Clearly ’tis because you believe you would never have to. I vow, the size of your head is like to burst the walls of this house.”

He watched her, unable to take his eyes away from her rich honey-colored hair, and the lift of her dainty chin. Let alone able to formulate a response to such a statement. No wonder John Little and the others had fled. He wondered how long they’d been cooped up in here with her.

She turned away and paced across the room, the only sound that of her fine wool bliaud catching on the rough floor and a faint whistle through the trees. He watched the smooth curve of her bottom as it swayed enticingly with each step. Robin felt the urge to clear his throat, for it had suddenly become very dry.

“If you believe that I am one of those foolish ladies who cannot resist the lure of an outlaw, you are dangerously mistaken. I will not be swooning at the prospect of your kisses. I demand to be returned to Ludlow immediately.”

“I will return you, my lady. I vow it. But, if you please, will you not give me your name?”

“Lady Alys of Wentworth,” she said with a great sigh. “Now that your curiosity is assuaged, shall we go?”

“Alys,” he said, savoring the taste of it on his tongue. “A lovely name.”

The fascinating woman he itched to touch, to see if she was as soft and smelled as good as he suspected, gave an indelicate snort. “And the next I know, like every other man, you’ll be waxing rhapsodic over my sea blue eyes, and the velvet of my crushed-petal lips, and my long flowing tresses of golden hair.”

Robin closed his mouth again. Damn.

She made a sharp gesture of dismissal at him. “Do you think I have not heard it all before, O Robin Hood? Do you think I do not know how tongue-tied and cow-eyed men turn when they are near me? ’Tis a curse,” she said, pacing the room in earnest now. “ ’ Tisn’t enough that I must deal with the frog-eyed barons or high-reaching knights greedy not only for my lands but for my person-but now I must be whisked away to a treetop hideaway and suffer the courtship of an outlaw.”

“I do not court you,” Robin burst out in disdain.

“Indeed?” She stopped and turned to look at him. “You do not court me. You do not intend to rape me. . Why, then, Robin Hood, are we still here? Ah. It must be that you intend to hold me for ransom. It certainly cannot be that you’ve been giving me mooning dog eyes and preening about like a cock so that I will kiss you.”

“So that is what you want,” Robin said, his eyes narrowing in delight. A smile tickled his mouth. He was in front of her in a moment, his hands closing around her upper arms, his feet planted on the hem of her gown. “A kiss. Why did you not say so, Lady Alys?”

Her blue eyes flashed sparks and her luscious mouth opened, but Robin found a most efficient way to close it. And to block out the pretend outrage in her eyes.

He dragged her up against him, his mouth on hers, at last touching those lush, top-heavy lips. She stiffened against him, pushing. He was gentle. . but firm. Alys tasted as sweet as he’d expected, her tongue small and slick and naive, tangling with his stronger one.

He closed his mouth over that full top lip that so enticed him, gently sucking and licking it, unable to get enough of the taste, of the softness. Her breasts crushed into his chest, and the thick locks of her hair tangled in his fingers as he smoothed his hands up her slender back, pulling her close. . melding her against him.