Men Under the Mistletoe by Ava March Harper Fox Josh Lanyon & K.A. Mitchell

Author:Ava March, Harper Fox, Josh Lanyon & K.A. Mitchell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2011-09-07T04:00:00+00:00

I did. I slept for hours, and when I woke in the twilit room I was warm as toast, my arm still clamped tight round his waist. He was looking down on me in amusement. “Hello, Rip van Lowden.”

I grunted. My neck was stiff. I hadn’t moved a muscle, and apparently neither had he, except at some point to produce from somewhere a small brown paper bag, which he was waving gently in front of my eyes. “Hi,” I muttered. “I must have been crushing you. What’s that?”

“My ploy to distract you the second you woke up.”

I did my best to let it work. If I didn’t, I would have to start thinking, with God knew what results this time. I took the package from him cautiously. “Is it a book?”

“What else is there ever any point in getting you? It’s not a Christmas present as such. I bought it months ago, then I wasn’t sure about giving it to you. I know how you feel about medieval fol-de-rol.”

“Why now?”

“I’ve been carrying it round in my pocket. And now just feels like a good time.”

The book was exquisite. I sat up a little, leaning against Piers, holding it reverently. It was a beautiful fit to my hands. Gilded leather, worn to silky delicacy with age. The cover plate was a wafer-thin piece of enamel work. Its background was a starry midnight sky, and in the foreground two horsemen rode their chargers at full pelt through glimmering snow. Tales from the Quests, the volume was called, by an author I’d never encountered. I had thought I knew them all, wearily, inside out and backwards. “My God. Where did you get this?”

“Close to home, weirdly enough. The second-hand dealer’s round the corner from your flat.”

“What—Bill’s Books?” I couldn’t believe it. “Bill’s idea of literary gold is a first-edition Harold Robbins.”

“I know. But one day there it was, spoiling the line of his Jeffrey Archers. I almost didn’t get it. I was afraid it was a kid’s book or something.”

Only if the kid concerned was a Persian prince. My fingers felt sticky and unworthy, so I laid the book down on my lover’s beautiful breast and eased it open. There were thirteen chapters in it, each one an untold story of the Round Table knights. They seemed to want to show themselves to me, pages parting at my touch to illustrations as dynamic and unique as the cover. There they all were—Gawaine and his brothers; Parsifal, Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere. Their dress was medieval but the author had taken his tales out of Camelot and placed them in the wildwood, on beaches, lonely clifftops, circles of stone. I leaned across Piers’ body and kissed the rib that shielded his heart. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t have to say anything, love.”

“I’m sorry I was ever such a hardarse that I made you think I wouldn’t want this.”

“I’m glad you do.”

“Piers, before I left—just before I left his house on Christmas morning, he called me Gawaine.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.