Immortal Protector by Claire Ashgrove

Author:Claire Ashgrove
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance, Love Story
ISBN: 9781466840775
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2013-03-11T14:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Iain brushed a damp lock of Catherine’s hair away from the side of her face. Stretched out on his side, holding his head in one hand, he basked in the afterglow of satisfaction. She lay on her back, her warm satiny skin pressing alongside his body from her shoulder to her ankles. His free hand massaged her breast beneath a tangle of covers. If they were not both utterly exhausted from their thorough lovemaking, the tightening of her nipple would have demanded the attention of his mouth. But her eyelids drooped, and his own limbs were heavy with the need for sleep.

She smiled softly, her blue eyes latching onto his before her prolonged blink broke the intimate connection. “I am never going to wake up in a few hours.”

He bent and dusted a light kiss across her forehead. “Will I see you later this eve?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured.

The motion of his hand brought the side of his palm in contact with the medallion around her neck. He lifted it from her breastbone and held it between thumb and forefinger. In the turn of circumstance, he had quite forgotten about the necklace. Now, ’twas a reminder of the danger that lingered near the abbey.

“Who is Armand, Catherine?” he asked quietly.

Her brow furrowed, though she did not open her eyes. “If he was Templar and you are too, why are you asking me?”

“Nay.” Releasing the medallion, he rolled onto his back and braced his hands behind his head. “I do not mean the man. I mean why you avoid discussing him. I know what he is to my Order—what is he to you?”

When she remained silent, he turned his head to discern whether she slept. Her resistance to conversation showed in the pursing of her lips and the deepening of her frown.

“Very well,” he said staring at the tall ceiling once again. “I shall tell you who he is to me. He is a most eccentric man, mayhap even a bit dim-witted. He slept with a whore, who convinced him she bore his child. When our…commander…insisted the child be cared for by another, Armand defied everything and everyone to keep the boy close. Armand Dupris died shortly after he secured the boy in a home where he could watch over him.” He slanted his gaze to her, gauging her reaction. “He is a bit similar to you when it comes to children in need.”

Catherine blew out a hard breath that stirred the tendrils of hair still clinging to her temple. “Fine. I don’t know anything about Armand Dupris. But one of my sperm donor’s grand-something-or-others was a Templar knight. The prioress knows this. I’m convinced she gave it to me out of some preconceived notion I have a sentimental connection with that man.”

“’Twas not so difficult to share, aye?” Though he took care to keep his voice light and teasing, behind the veneer, shock ricocheted through him. His mind raced in rapid circles. The curse he and his fellow brethren bore forbade them to sire children.

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