The Rogues of Ravensmuir Boxed Set by Deborah Cooke & Claire Delacroix

Author:Deborah Cooke & Claire Delacroix [Cooke, Deborah & Delacroix, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: medieval romance, scotland, New York Times Bestselling Author
Amazon: B007FKH1HI
Publisher: Deborah A. Cooke
Published: 2012-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“But that is not fair!” I cried, knowing how little that mattered but vexed all the same.

“Perhaps you now understand why I have little interest in what is right and legal—it is seldom fair.”

I clenched my fists in outrage, not liking my powerlessness a whit. “If only we could escape! Then justice could be served. I could send word to the king. I could muster troops. I could...” I scrabbled ineffectively at the rock face, but it was impossible to catch a grip, precisely as my forebear had planned.

I spun upon Gawain in annoyance. “What pathetic manner of thief are you that you cannot steal us away from this place?”

Again I heard the smile in his voice. “It is not a question of whether I can pick that excuse for a lock, my Evangeline, it is a question of when it would be best to do so. Captors, in my experience, like to gloat.”

He could pick the lock.

I stared in Gawain’s direction, aghast, even as the lock was turned and the door high above flung open. The finger of light that fell into the Hole gave me a glimpse of Gawain’s confident smile—and no doubt he had an eyeful of my gaping astonishment—before Fiona shouted with glee.

“I have a gift for you, my fine lady,” she sneered, then hurled the contents of a bucket into the dungeon.

Gawain moved like lightning. He seized my wrist and pulled me out of the way, when I might have stood there like a startled hare. He folded me against his heat and backed me into the wall beneath the door.

The slops splashed noisily against the far wall, the smell enough to curdle milk. I buried my nose in Gawain’s shoulder and inhaled hungrily of his scent instead.

I forgot completely about the slops.

Fiona laughed and locked the door with gusto. She whistled merrily as she left us trapped, no doubt swinging her bucket as she trudged back to the hall.

I did not push Gawain away. The tickle in my belly that had awakened with first sight of him grew to a roar. I could feel the muscles of his back beneath my hands, feel the strength of his thighs against mine. My battle against temptation was well and truly lost.

“Evangeline,” Gawain whispered, a throaty purr that melted the last of my resistance. There was desire in his whisper and in his chausses. Perhaps he found his desire for me as unexpected and fathomless as I found mine for him.

I felt gloriously, vibrantly alive, as I had when we met afore. I turned my face slightly and let my lips graze Gawain’s neck, boldly touched my lips to his mouth. He shivered and I could not have cared less about Fiona.

“It never serves one to be absent when the captor comes to check on their prey,” Gawain murmured into my hair. His breath made my flesh tingle and the heat that only he could kindle spread through me. “Escaping too soon can oft lead to unfortunate results.

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