His deep voice echoed in the stillness of the great hall. He held out his hands, waiting.
She looked at the man standing before her, a warrior tall and powerfully fashioned. The firelight from the huge hearth played over the rugged features of his face, glinted off his long, dark hair, turned his eyes to a deep, fiery green. His gaze locked with hers, warming her, imprisoning her.
She walked to him, slowly. She reached out and put her hands in his. There were calluses on his skin, hard places where the sword had left its imprint. He ran his thumbs over her palms, caressing her hands before he took them and slipped them up around his neck. She caught her breath as his arms came around her and pulled her hard against him.
“Och, but you’re a bonny thing, my Elizabeth ,” he said, in a husky voice.
He lowered his head and covered her lips with his own. He plundered her mouth, ravaging it with kisses that made her knees buckle. She clung to him as waves of desire crashed over her, leaving her weak.
A ringing began, intruding on the sounds of wood crackling in the hearth and the harsh rasp of the man’s breathing. She ignored thebell-likenoise,butit continued,persistent.
She turned to see what it was, then felt herself falling. She looked back at the man in disbelief.
