The Wedding Knight by Jenna Mcknight

Author:Jenna Mcknight [Jenna Mcknight]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459274617
Publisher: Harlequin

WILLIAM FELT OUT OF PLACE tending the hares as they roasted on a spit in the fireplace. He was unaccustomed to doing servant’s work, but there was no one about who indicated that this was inappropriate. ’Twas not that he couldn’t do it—in the past six years away from his home, the job had fallen to him as often as not out of necessity.

Without a servant now, though, the job should have fallen to Livvy, but she, standing with her back to him, had her hands under a seemingly endless stream of water.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Thinking of ways to trip you up.”

“M’lady, I am quite surefooted.”

Her shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “I’m cleaning potatoes so you can bake them in the coals.”

“What are potatoes?”

“Vegetables.”

“I don’t think I’ll like them.”

“Don’t start with me, William.”

The simplicity of the phrase gave him pause, as he would like nothing better than to start with her. He’d begin by pulling that horsetail arrangement out of her hair.

“Why do you bind your hair so?”

“To keep it out of my eyes. It’s always so breezy here.”

“Not in the castle.” He’d work his way down the back of her neck with light kisses, slip the wide scoop of her tunic off her shoulder and caress it tenderly…

“I’m outside a lot.”

“I see.” What he would like to see was her creamy bare skin, petal soft and flushed with his kisses.

“Besides…”

He couldn’t hear her over the roar in his head as he imagined his face pressed to her chest, the heat of her skin, the pounding of her heart picking up speed as he took her breast into his mouth.

“William.”

“Silence!” If she’d be quiet just a little longer…

“The potatoes are ready.”

He hung his head, only to find she’d left the running water and was standing in front of him, her legs bare beneath what Chelsie had informed him were shorts. So close, he could reach out and touch her skin—if he wanted a black eye.

He lifted his gaze. “Yes, m’lady?”

She handed him the first lump of shiny, crinkled silver. “These probably should have been started sooner, but we’ll have to make do. At least they’re small.”

He turned it over and over in his palm, examining it, discovering that the silver was actually a wrapping; the thinnest metal he’d ever touched. He glanced up at her, torn between which he wanted to study more—the woman, or what she’d handed him.

“It goes in the coals?”

She grinned, and he chose her.

“I thought you were a medieval man who knows these things.”

“M’lady teases me?” He took the rest of the potatoes from her and, still marveling over wrapping vegetables in metal instead of putting them into a stew pot, pushed them deep into the coals.

When he turned back, she was gone. He had no difficulty remembering her grin. In fact, if he were to be sucked into another time right then and there, he would take her memory with him forever.

She stayed away until hunger pains—or the savory aroma of two steaming hot hares—drew her back.

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