A Promise Kept by Mallery Malone

Author:Mallery Malone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Serendipity Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

ERIKA BROKE THROUGH the stand of trees circling the pond, pausing to catch her breath. The crisp night air sobered her enough to make her question her sanity, but not enough to return to the dun and seek Conor out. Besides, she was enjoying herself.

Nervous energy skittered along her veins as she found the supplies Múireann had prepared earlier in the day and set them out. More than once in the course of the day she had overheard speculation concerning the virgin sacrifice to the Devil of Dunlough. She knew now, for instance, that no woman had been in his bed since Aislingh’s death more than a year ago. Many of the dun’s women had wondered if that would serve to make a normally painful event even more unbearable.

A mixture of emotions clogged Erika’s being. She wanted Conor’s touch, craved it with everything within her. At the same time she feared the warnings of women more knowledgeable than she. Would Conor hurt her?

Branches snapped as her new husband burst through the trees, outraged and triumphant together. He certainly looked as if he meant to do her harm, if his expression was any indication.

“So, my Angel—you wish to dance?” His voice hummed with want. “Then dance we shall.”

Before she could react he swooped down on her, clasping his hands about her waist. Lifting her, he spun about in a maddening circle until laughter escaped her and they were both dizzy. Yet he planted his feet firmly, and it was a measure of his strength that he was able to set her down slowly, imprinting the front of her body with his own and leaving her unequivocally aware of his aroused state.

“If you wanted to lead me on a chase, my lady, you should have picked another destination,” he chided her softly. “This is the first place I thought you would go.”

“That was my hope,” she admitted as his gaze took in the cushioned pallet, jug of wine, and candle and tinder. “There was magic here, the night you brought me.”

Her eyes lowered as she confessed, “I thought if we returned, I might feel it again.”

Sword-roughened hands slid up her arms to cup her cheeks. “Beltaine is a night of magic. Perhaps enough remains for us.”

The touch of his lips forced her eyes shut against the flare of passion that swept through her. His kiss was a slow melding of mouths that left her breathless. She pressed against him, reveling in the feel of his masculinity, aching for something she could not name.

She barely noted her silver belt falling to the ground, followed by her over-tunic and gown sliding down her arms. It wasn’t until she stretched out on the cushioned pallet that she realized the moment was at hand. Involuntarily she stiffened, then forced herself to relax and hoped he would not notice.

Conor did indeed notice. “Erika.”

Loath to interject reason at such an unreasonable time, he knew if he didn’t make the effort now, he would not be able to later. Besides, his honor demanded nothing less.

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