Bodyguards Boxed Set by Julianne MacLean & Shelly Thacker & Kathryn Shay & Patricia Ryan & Julie Kenner & J. Kenner

Author:Julianne MacLean & Shelly Thacker & Kathryn Shay & Patricia Ryan & Julie Kenner & J. Kenner
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

DARKNESS HAD CLAIMED the room, but for a few banked coals still glowing on the hearth. As Royce opened his eyes, he wondered drowsily how much was left of the night, whether morning was an hour away or two. The kitchen’s stone floor still held the heat, warming the soft cloth piled beneath him. His wounded right arm felt stiff and painful.

But he did not move for fear of waking Ciara.

His fingers gently curling into the silky strands of her hair, he gazed down at the lady nestled in his arms on the makeshift pallet, her breathing soft and even against his bare chest. The two of them lay entwined together, sharing a bed for the first and last time.

He had selfishly wanted a night with her. One night to hold her, to memorize the softness and scent and feel of her in his arms.

One night to remember during all the rest of the nights he would be spending alone.

She sighed in her sleep, as if she were enjoying a sweet dream, and snuggled closer. The small movement made him agonizingly aware of how his body had responded to having her beside him. But he would endure the discomfort willingly, would endure any pain if it meant keeping her near for even a short time longer.

She settled back into blissful slumber but a moment later made another soft sound, this one a whisper of his name. Her lashes lifted. She gazed up at him sleepily, blinking, as if unsure whether her dream had ended.

They both remained still for a moment, enveloped in the quiet, peaceful darkness, warmed by the glow from the hearth. Then her soft gasp told him she had just become aware of his arousal pressed against her hip.

She did not move away, did not say a word.

Instead she startled him for the second time this day, nestling closer and brushing a kiss over his cheek.

Then his jaw.

“Ciara...”

“I love you, Royce,” she said in a scant whisper, her voice husky and sweet. “Let me love you. Let me please you—”

“Nay, sweet angel, we cannot—”

She pressed a fingertip against his mouth. “Not in that way,” she murmured, tracing the outline of his lips before she nuzzled her cheek against his, whispering in his ear, “but can I not please you as you pleased me... with a special kiss?”

He felt as if he had been speared by a hot lance. Felt every drop of blood in his body suddenly set ablaze, sizzling straight to that hard part of him that so ached for her attentions. He struggled to answer her, could not find words. She sounded so innocently curious about whether it was possible, so passionately ready to give him pleasure, to ease his torment.

And the thought of what she wanted to do, what she was eager to do... the thought of that exquisite, ravishing mouth of hers...

“Ciara,” he whispered roughly, unable to catch his breath, “there are... certain things a man does not ask of a lady—”

“You are not asking.

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