Atlantis Redeemed by Alyssa Day

Author:Alyssa Day [Day, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2011-11-23T21:05:07+00:00

Chapter 19

Brennan awoke to the very rare and yet highly appreciated sensation of a warm armful of woman curled up against him. He waited awhile before opening his eyes, searching his memory to see if he could pinpoint just how and when the night before he’d broken his own rule about bringing women to his rooms in the palace.

He’d learned long, long ago the consequences of slipping from a very straight and narrow path, after all.

When nothing—nobody—came to mind, he mentally cursed the vast quantity of Atlantean ale he must have consumed and then gritted his teeth against the arduous task that faced him. He needed to get her out of his rooms with the minimum of post-coital drama. It was unfortunate Christophe was not nearby to offer advice; the man was a master at managing irate women.

The woman stirred against him and then her soft, unexpectedly musical voice confirmed that she was awake. “Brennan?”

She knew his name, then. Too bad he could not reciprocate that knowledge.

He’d postponed as long as he could; honor demanded courtesy, at the very least. He opened his eyes and found himself looking directly into the most vividly beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Not brown exactly but the darkest amber shade of ancient gems, with tiny flickers of honey-gold near the pupils.

“You fell asleep?” she asked, and there was something unexpected in her voice. Not curiosity or lazy satisfaction or even petulant demand.

No. It was anxiety—or even fear.

“Perhaps I was well sated, my lady,” he said, smiling in spite of himself at her beauty. He had chosen well, even in his obviously drunken state. And yet—

She bolted upright and he realized what had been niggling at him. She was fully dressed, in what looked like a set of his sparring clothes. He glanced down at himself and realized he, too, wore a pair of the soft trousers.

Her eyes widened until he could see white all the way around her irises. “Did you just say well sated? Wait—and call me your lady?”

He sat up as well, feeling at a distinct disadvantage, and examined her again, as if repeated viewing could bring her name or circumstances to mind. Her tousled dark hair shone in the morning light from the window, and her soft curves were very apparent, even under the loose fit of his sparring top.

“Brennan? Did you forget me? The curse—did you fall asleep and forget?” She grabbed his arm and the contact sizzled heat lightning through him like a summer storm at sea. His body arched backward from the jolt and his head slammed into the carved wooden headboard of the bed.

“Brennan!” She jumped back and away from him and scrambled off the bed. “It’s me. Tiernan. Please tell me you remember, and you’re not going to have another attack.”

“Attack? What attack? Did I hurt you?” A horrible . . . memory? premonition? was itching at the back of his brain. Had he hurt this woman?

The pain merely from the idea of it smashed into him with the force of a body blow.

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