Capture Her Heart

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Capture Her Heart Copyright © 2008 by Cynthia Breeding ISBN: 1-59998-868-2 Edited by Laurie Rauch Edited by Anne Scott Cover by Christine Clavel All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2008 www.samhainpublishing.com

Capture Her Heart Cynthia Breeding

Dedication To Larry: I wish you were here to share this success. May you walk forever in the Light.

Capture Her Heart

Chapter One She shouldn’t—she should not—want to be kissed by the man who had abducted her at sword-point. No eighteenth-century lady should admit to wanting to be pressed up against a man’s body, especially one as rock hard as his. An image of his face, with its high cheekbones, straight nose and chiseled jaw, flitted through her traitorous mind. Sensual lips, far too full to be ignored; long, dark hair that curled against the collar of his white shirt; and mesmerizing eyes, golden with flecks of brown, all reminded her of the huge wolf that stalked her father’s forests, often bringing down a fleet-of-foot doe. Kaitlin tugged at the silken scarves that bound her wrists to the four-poster bed, holding her captive. Her ears strained for the sound of human movement, but all she could hear was the creaking of the wooden hull as the ship pitched in heavy seas and plunged into deep troughs. They must be in the treacherous waters of the Inner Hebrides, judging from the violent rolling of the frigate. Where was he taking her and why? Who was the handsome stranger anyway? She stopped struggling for a moment and closed her eyes. Her mother had been right. If she had not insisted on accompanying her father on his diplomatic mission to Alclud, she would be safe at home now in Gwynedd. But Kaitlin didn’t like playing things safe. Four rowdy, older brothers hardly left her a coddled female. Her soul was as wild as the rugged terrain of Wales. How many times had she been warned that ladies did not go riding astride and certainly not with only a minimal bodyguard. But had she listened? Still, her riding along the coast of the Highlands on a bright summer day didn’t account for the band of brigands who had appeared suddenly from behind boulders and subdued her guards. Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled off her horse by a tall, powerfully built warrior and tossed lightly on his horse as though she were a pile of feathers. When he vaulted up behind her and put his arms around her, pulling her body back against his, she realized this man was solid muscle all over. And hard. Something very, very solid pressed against her backside, invading the crack between her buttocks. In all her twenty years, she’d not known a man could feel like that. The horse’s www.samhainpublishing.com

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rocking canter did nothing to alleviate the pressure; it only made it worse—first breaking the contact and then having that slamming against her again. By the time they’d slipped and slid down the cliffs to where the frigate was moored, the area between her thighs was moist and tingling with an aching need. Just what that need was, she wasn’t sure. The door creaked and Kaitlin’s eyes flew open. His huge frame filled the doorway. Silently, she watched as he approached and sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough for her to inhale the scent of him. Sea salt mixed with a heady spice and leather. Mmmm. “Who are you?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t shake. “Adair MacDouglas,” he answered and curled a strand of her blonde hair around his finger. “Ye’re verra pretty.” Kaitlin inhaled sharply. The man’s deep Scottish burr sounded like the throaty rumbling growl of the legendary wolf. She’d heard it once, right after the wolf finished feasting on a small boar. She wondered briefly if she was to be this man’s prey. She was totally at his mercy with her hands tied. The thought of his sensual mouth pressed against hers, his strong hands and supple fingers stroking her, pressing her breasts against his chest made her tremble. I’m his captive, remember? Ah, yes, the naughty voice inside her head said. Look at his body. What could he do to you that would be bad? She looked up to find he was watching her with an amused look on his face. Damn. Oh, Lord. Mama told her not to swear. Too late. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? “Why have you abducted me? You don’t even know who I am!” He arched a dark brow. “Ye’re Lady Kaitlin Coltan, come with your father and brother to visit the laird of Alclud.” So he did know who she was. “If it’s ransom you’re wanting, why have we put out to sea?” she asked. “My father would be willing to pay you.” “Ah, lass, it’s not money that I’m wantin’.” “What then?”

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Capture Her Heart

For a moment he was silent, and then that beautiful burr purred again. “Two nights ago, my wee sister, barely come a woman, was raped and left for dead near the laird’s keep.” She frowned. “I’m sorry. What does that have to do with me?” He leveled those golden, predatory eyes on her. “’Twas your brother and his friends who did the foul deed.” Kaitlin gasped. Her brother, Broderick, had a wild streak in him, but surely he wasn’t capable of that. All her brothers were a bit untamed, but she’d never known any of them to deliberately harm a young girl. In fact, they kept her far too protected from any handsome swains who might pay court. “I’m so sorry for your sister. But Broderick wouldn’t… You must be mistaken.” Adair shook his head. “Greer hasna spoken a word since it happened, but she pointed him out to me and she doona lie.” That silken voice could make an angel weep. And this man was her captor? Somehow, she had yet to be frightened of him. “What happened to your sister is unforgivable, but why not bring it to my father’s attention and let the matter be settled in front of the lord?” “The damage has been done,” Adair said with a grim look. “And ’tis a mute lass’s finger against a laird’s son. I think my way is better.” “Your way?” “Aye. Your father and brother will find out how it feels to have their only daughter and sister dishonored.” Kaitlin stared at him. Did he mean to deflower her and take her maidenhead? Would it hurt or would he be gentle? If he wanted revenge, he’d probably not be gentle. But she’d caught one of her brothers taking a serving wench’s breast in his mouth, and the maid’s reaction had been to squeal in pleasure. The thought of Adair’s sensual lips covering one of her nipples and suckling it made her tingle in both fear and anticipation. “Are you planning to rape me then?”

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He moved closer until she could feel his body heat. He gently stroked the side of her cheek with his finger. She sighed instinctively and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile, making him even more appealing. “I don’t rape women, lass.” He bent his head and brushed his lips lightly against hers. “Although I think ye may be wantin’ a good bedding. Tell me, are ye a virgin still?” How dare he think she was not? Landed gentry did not just allow their daughters to get tumbled in haystacks. And this is different? Her inner voice sounded amused. Yes! I’m tied and quite helpless… A strange pulsation began between her thighs. Her lips pursed in a pout. “Of course I am.” “Ah, good.” He straightened and brushed a silken strand of hair from her face. “Ye’ll bring a good price then.” She stared at him as he walked to the door. “Price? What do you mean?” Adair turned and for a moment she thought she saw pity in his glance, but it was quickly replaced with a determined look. “Aye, lass. My ship trades your Welsh wool for eastern spices and silks. There is an elderly sultan—Ali Stafa in Constantinople—who has been asking for a blonde woman to add to his harem for years. I doona believe in human trafficking, so I’ve declined. Until now. I intend to use the gold I’m paid for ye to pay for my sister’s dowry. Since she’s been ruined, the price will be high for a man to accept her. Mayhap when yer father realizes what ye’ve been forced to become, justice will be served.” With that, he turned and walked out. Kaitlin heard the key turn in the lock. Sexual slavery? To an old, decrepit man? She would not lose her virginity that way. How could Adair MacDouglas be so cruel? It wasn’t her fault his sister was raped! She tugged desperately at the silk scarves, but they held fast. How could such flimsy material be so strong? Frustrated, she sank back on the bed. Somehow, she would escape this ship. She eyed the porthole. She could probably slip through if she could wrest the heavy bronze latch open. Then another thought came to her, and she allowed herself a small smile. A virgin, he’d asked. A higher price.

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Mayhap, if she lost her virginity, the sultan would not want her. Somewhere, in her boring history lessons from the private tutor her father had hired, she’d read that eastern culture held an even higher regard for virgins than the western world. She just might interfere with the handsome Highlander’s plans. She shivered briefly, thinking about his big naked body sprawled over her own equally nude one. Somehow, she’d have to convince him to loosen her bonds, and once she had her hands free, she’d let him know exactly what she wanted. Except, do you really know? The small voice inside her head niggled, leaving her with a question she couldn’t answer. She wished she hadn’t spent so much time daydreaming when her mother had tried to explain what happens between men and women. Go away, she mumbled. Her only reward was faint laughter as the unrepentant siren in her mind drifted away.

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Chapter Two Adair leaned against the starboard rail, contemplating the woman he’d just left in his stateroom. A halyard slapped against the mizzenmast, and he listened to one of his sailors curse as he pulled in the sheet to lift the sail. He should be at the helm. The three-masted frigate was a fast ship, but if the blonde lassie’s father decided to pursue, they would have to hold fast to a tight course and not let any of the sails luff if they were to stay ahead. Once he’d turned her over to the sultan, there wasn’t much the Englishman could do about saving his daughter. Adair pushed aside any fleeting thoughts of guilt he might have. His sister deserved to be avenged. She was barely thirteen and had been violated. What should be pleasure for a woman came to her in a cruel, painful way. Rumors he’d heard of Ali Stafa swept through his mind—that the concubines who did not please him were publicly scourged and basely defiled with brute force by his guards. The image of the lovely blonde lass submitting to the aging, callous sultan was not a pleasant one. Mayhap she deserved better, but so did his sister. Justice would be done. He pictured Kaitlin on his own bed, her arms spread slightly—he’d left enough slack in the scarves so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable—and totally helpless. By God, he wanted her. Had wanted her ever since that sweet, rounded ass kept hitting his cock on the slide down the cliff to his ship. He’d been tempted to slip his arm up from her narrow waist to cup a breast on the ride. Indeed, when he’d thrown her over his shoulder to stride up the gangplank, her breasts had bounced against his shoulders and he’d allowed himself to stroke her glorious rump. And it was only natural that he held her body in place with his on the bed while he fettered her. Her struggle to slip out from under him had only enhanced every one of her treasures. He could still feel her breasts crushed against his chest, her hips wiggling 10

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Capture Her Heart

against his groin, making an already hard erection turn to pure stone. And she’d felt it. He knew she had by the way her huge green eyes had widened when he’d thrust against her belly. It had been a manly effort to push himself off her. Had he been wearing his kilt, he had no idea what he would have done. How he longed to undo her shirt, one button at a time, allowing himself to savor slow glances of her. As fair as her complexion was, her nipples were bound to be a delicate pink. Ah, to bend his head and tease one of them with his tongue, circling it lightly, then flicking it from side to side and finally, ever so slowly, to cover the hardened bud with his mouth, kissing and nipping gently until she begged for him to suckle her hard. And he would. Long and hard and deep. Just like he would take possession of her mouth, his tongue exploring and thrusting, his lips slanting against hers, light and teasing, then harsh and demanding. Alternating between licking her lips and sucking them. And then he’d move to the delicate juices between her legs… “Captain!” the boatswain, perched high up the main mast in the crow’s nest basket, called. He had his telescope trained on their stern. “Three sails on the horizon.” Adair swore under his breath. So soon. He hadn’t expected the guards to be found or able to walk home until he was well underway. The laird, Kelvin O’Donnell, owned brigantines, which were slower and heavier than his frigate, although armed equally as well. If the prevailing wind held, his crew should be able to outdistance them in twentyfour hours. What he was worried about was the light schooners the laird also owned. Those could make headway quickly. He strode aft toward the wheel and checked the compass in the binnacle. “Two degrees into the wind,” he told the helmsman and then gave the order to harden the sails. The ship heeled gracefully as her sails filled a fraction more and she gathered speed. Satisfied, he went below deck to gather some food for his beautiful captive. She was just as he left her, propped up against the headboard, her beautiful cat’s eyes watching him as he came to sit down beside her, balancing the bowl of stew on the tray. She didn’t seem to be scared of him, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He wouldn’t have minded holding her close against him and stroking her back to calm

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her down. Fool. Don’t fall for a hostage. That’s all she is. You’re avenging your sister, remember? “I’ve brought ye something to eat,” he said and dipped the spoon and held it to her mouth. She turned away. “I can eat by myself. Untie me, please.” “Och, no, lass. I canna.” He touched the rim of the spoon to her mouth. “Open.” “No.” Stubborn lass. He always had liked strong-willed women. Adair pushed the spoon between her lips, forcing her to swallow or choke. Some of the juice dribbled down her chin. He picked up the napkin and slowly, sensuously, wiped it away, admiring the curve of her cheek and her wide, full mouth. Lips just needing to be kissed. He forced himself to concentrate on the food. She clamped her mouth closed and again he wiped the juice from her chin. “Doona fight me. I can force ye to eat,” he said and demonstrated by placing a thumb on one side of her jaw and his middle finger on the other. With gentle pressure, he pried her mouth open. “Ye see? Now swallow like a good lass, or I’ll be licking the remains off your face myself.” “You wouldn’t dare!” He grinned, set the bowl down, and cradled her head in his hands, keeping her still. With the lightest of touches, like a butterfly lighting on a leaf, he ran his tongue over her lips. She pushed her head back against his hands to no avail. “That tickles.” “Does it now?” He brushed her lips again and then slid his mouth lower, his lips cupping her chin, sucking on it gently until he heard her moan. Ah. If he could get that reaction out of something so simple, what would she be like in bed, lying under him naked? He felt himself grow hard at the thought of her bare skin against his, his hands kneading her soft, full breasts while he thrust himself to the hilt into her hot, wet sheath. It would be so tight and what pleasure he could give her, slowly withdrawing to tease her and then filling her completely. He’d keep it simple and easy until she got used to him,

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until she writhed and bucked and begged, and only then would he plunge deep and hard and bring her to that peak where the world would shatter. Ah. He wanted that. And couldn’t have it. The sultan would pay much gold for such a beautiful virgin. And as much as he wanted her, he longed to lay a fortune of gold at his sister’s feet. Greer deserved that much. Reluctantly, he released her and stood. Better to put some distance between them. “I’ll be back with some soap and hot water so ye can tend to your needs.” Never in all the days since he’d bedded his first girl at three-and-ten had his knees felt weak when he left a room. But they did now. What in blazes was wrong with him?

Kaitlin searched the room frantically, opening drawers as softly as she could, looking for a weapon before he came back. Hot water had been brought for her to wash with and a chamber pot now stood behind a dressing screen. Adair had finally untied her, with the admonishment that he would be close by. She had no intention of being handed over to an old man she didn’t know, and she certainly was not going to become part of some harem, to be at some monster’s beck and call. If she could just find something—a dirk would be good—she could hide it and cut her bonds that night and slip out. If she couldn’t lower a lifeboat, she could swim. Kaitlin was sure they hadn’t rounded Cornwall yet, and the waters would be warm near Penzance, since it was midsummer. She struggled with the clasp of an old sea trunk. Adair would be back any moment; she was running out of time. With a raspy noise, the clasp gave way. Kaitlin held her breath, but there was only silence outside the cabin. She lifted the lid. Brightly woven tartan in blue and red and green met her eye—kilt, sash, Glengarry, white linen ruffled shirt. Carefully she slid her hand beneath an argyle jacket and hose, then a leather sporran and silver belt buckle. She was nearly to the bottom before her fingers encountered a slim object of wood and steel. She pulled it out slowly and gasped. A Sgian Dubh, the concealed knife Highlanders carried. Its handle was made of black bog oak, and the steel

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of the blade had been forged and honed to a sharpness that could cut on either side as well as the tip. Quickly, she closed the trunk and slipped the knife under her pillow. She straightened just as Adair opened the door. For a moment, his large, muscular frame was silhouetted in the bright sunlight behind him. He seemed to be inspecting the cabin, even though he did not move. Did he suspect what she’d done? Kaitlin moved toward him, away from the bed. Mayhap she could talk him into not tying her again. “I need some exercise.” This close to him, the man was intoxicating. Well over two hundred pounds of solid muscle, his body barred the door. And his scent. Unique. Her senses heightened around him. He shook his head. “I canna be responsible for the sailors if ye be walking around on the deck, lass, and ye need to be a maiden still when I give ye over to Ali Stafa.” Infuriated, she glared at him. Her first plan was to escape and swim to shore while they were still skirting the English coast. The second plan was to lose her virginity before they got anywhere near Constantinople. Mayhap then Adair would drop her off at some other port. The problem was Kaitlin had no idea of how to go about seducing a man. She forced herself to smile. “Mayhap you could walk with me tonight, when all’s quiet?” He looked surprised then as wary as the wolf he resembled. “I doona—” She threw caution to the winds and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her fingers in his long, dark hair, pressing her lips against his in what she hoped was a passionate kiss. For a moment, he stood frozen and then his arms came around her, crushing her to his chest as his mouth claimed hers, his lips hard and demanding as his tongue sought entrance. Kaitlin parted her lips breathlessly as heat seared through her body like a fiery sword, slashing her veins into gushing rivers of molten lava. She felt his thing hard against her belly as his thighs pressed to hers, and he walked her backwards toward the bed and lay her down.

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The weight of his body on hers lit another primal urge. Kaitlin’s hips undulated of their own accord, and Adair groaned, his tongue deep inside her mouth. Deftly, his hand unbuttoned her shirt and he moved down, licking circles around one breast, his fingers firmly kneading the other. He nipped lightly at the hardened bud and Kaitlin gasped. Never, in all her wildest fantasies, had she thought anything could feel so good. Her breasts felt full and heavy and the tips ached with need. Adair began to suckle, gently at first, and then with increasing urgency, tantalizing first one breast and then the other. The flames that had swept Kaitlin’s body returned like a raging inferno. He pushed a well-muscled thigh between her legs and pressed against her mound. Kaitlin felt a throbbing pulsation center itself at the contact, and instinctively, she wrapped her thighs around his waist. His hands slid behind her back and he cupped her buttocks and lifted her to meet his demand. Her whole body began to tremble as he rocked with her and then suddenly, he was still. Kaitlin opened her eyes to find him watching her, his weight now supported on his elbows. “What are ye trying to do to me, lass?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. He sat up abruptly and shoved her away. Kaitlin clutched her shirt, angry and hurt. She’d offered him her body and he didn’t want it! How could she have been so stupid? Or maybe she was just clumsy and didn’t know what to do. But he felt so good. Why did he stop? Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes as she unsuccessfully tried to stifle a sob. Adair had moved to the door, but he turned now. “Why are ye crying? I dinna do anything to claim ye. Your virtue is intact.” Kaitlin sobbed louder. Damn her virtue. She wanted him and he didn’t want her. He wouldn’t have stopped if he did. “You don’t care about my virtue. You’re planning to sell me to a barbarian. An old one.” Oh, God. If Adair won’t take me and he won’t let me anywhere near the sailors, I might very well end up in the harem. A virgin. She sat up suddenly, her green eyes blazing. “You’re a bastard. You’ve abducted me, you plan to sell me into slavery for something I didn’t do and now…now…my last few days of

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freedom…you won’t even let me get some fresh air! Here.” She thrust her wrists toward him, unaware that the shirt had fallen open, partially exposing the orbs of her breasts. “Tie me again. I don’t care anymore.” Adair inhaled sharply. “All right, lass. Ye’ll get your fresh air. It’s the least I can do. Tonight.” He spun and went out the door. Kaitlin heard the key in the lock and then his footsteps on the wooden deck.

By the saint Brighid! He’d almost done it. Taken Kaitlin’s virginity. Adair scowled at his foolishness as he stomped aft to speak to the helmsman. Better keep his mind focused on sailing through St. George’s channel without being attacked by Irish pirates. If only his brain could convince his cock about that. He had a permanently hard bulge in his trews since he’d brought the lass on board, and the pain in his groin wasn’t making his disposition any better. He swore again as he almost tripped over an uncoiled line lying on the deck. By God, he’d find that sailor and flog him. There could be no mistakes at sea. And he’d almost made a big mistake. She had tasted so good. First, her sweet mouth, those soft lips pliant and eager under his, her tongue hesitant at first and then meeting his. The smooth silkiness of her throat and neck as he trailed kisses toward her breasts, lush and dulcet, begging a man to suck on them. He could imagine her woman’s juice, true nectar from the gods of auld. How he longed to dip his tongue in that fount, and then lick his way slowly up her folds, nibbling on her nub until he sent her into mind-shattering ecstasy. How he wanted to feast at that table. And he must not. Once there, he would not stop himself and she must remain virginal. He’d sworn an oath and he owed his sister. Better to get this done. He looked up at the boatswain, high in the basket. “What news?” “They’re still trailing us, Captain. No closer, but no farther away either.” Adair considered. By nightfall, they would be rounding the peninsula, if the wind held. They were on a close haul, running toward the Mediterranean Sea. Once they made the turn, the frigate would literally fly in front of the wind.

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All he wanted to do was get to Constantinople before the lass got to him.

Kaitlin slipped the Sgian Dubh into the top of her boot. Thankfully, there had been no women’s clothes aboard for her to be forced into—the hated corset and billows of petticoats. Easier to remove boots and pants while treading water, too. She hoped to be able to slip away from the Highlander during their walk. Mayhap sprain an ankle so he would go for the medic. Still, if he wouldn’t leave her side, she was prepared to wound him. Now that she knew her virginity would stay intact, the only thing she could do was jump ship. She would rather drown than be part of a harem. Her dinner had been brought and she ate heartily, knowing she had an exhausting swim ahead of her that night. The moon was well up when he finally came for her. Kaitlin inhaled the salty night air. Already she could feel the warm breeze from the Gulf Stream that mixed with the cooler regional air. The timing was good; the water wouldn’t be frigid here. “Best hold on to my arm, lass,” Adair said. “The deck is a bit slippery.” Kaitlin did as she was told, liking the feel of the hard, well-muscled bicep. Too bad her second plan wouldn’t work. She wondered if he was hard everywhere. She sighed. It really was beautiful out here, with the moon washing over the waves, illuminating the white crests, the only sound the lapping of the water as the ship lifted and plunged deep into swells. “You don’t keep much of a night crew?” she asked. “Just the helmsman and navigator for now. In another hour, we’ll need to tack and the deck will be full of sailors. ’Tis why I brought ye out now.” An hour. That was all she had. They continued to walk when suddenly Kaitlin turned her ankle. “Ow,” she moaned and started to slide to the floor. Adair eased her down. “Ye’re hurt, lass? Let’s have a look.” Before she could stop him, he tugged gently and slipped off her boot. The knife clattered to the deck. Silently, Kaitlin cursed. As nervous as she was, she actually slipped and, unfortunately, turned the wrong ankle.

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The Highlander’s eyes widened as he picked up the weapon. His eyebrow arched. “What were ye planning to do with this?” His penetrating golden eyes narrowed. “Were ye thinking to kill me?” His voice was deceptively soft and Kaitlin felt the danger beneath his words. He was angry and it was barely controlled. She shook her head. “No. I…I just thought to defend myself here on the ship and once we get to Constantinople.” His expression changed to incredulity. “Ye thought to hold off the sultan with this? Ah, lass, ye would be stoned to death for certain.” She stood up and lifted her chin defiantly. “I will not be a part of a harem!” “Ye will. I’ve no choice in the matter. I vowed to avenge Greer.” Adair rose and looked at her speculatively. “There’s no need for ye to be hurt by the man though. Mayhap I need to teach ye what is expected of a good concubine.” Did that mean he’d take her virginity? Her alternate plan might work after all, but better not to let him know what she was thinking. “I’ll not let you bed me.” For a moment, amusement flickered in his wolf eyes and then disappeared when he spoke. “I meant the telling of it, not the doing.” Damn him. Kaitlin glared at him. The man was infuriating, standing there with a lopsided grin on his face. Well, she’d show him. She took a deep breath and suddenly darted around him toward the rail. It was now or never. In the split second it took him to realize what she’d done, Kaitlin had one leg over the rail. An iron arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her back on deck. Adair spun her around and backed her against the cabin wall, pressing his body against hers. “What the hell were ye doing?” She didn’t want to admit—not even think—about how good he felt. “What did it look like? I told you I’d be no man’s concubine, and you can’t make me into one.” A preternatural glow made his eyes pure gold. “I think I can, lass.” He laced his fingers with hers and brought her arms over her head, pinning them to the wood. With one deft motion, his boots spread her legs just enough that she had no traction to kick him, and then he lowered his mouth to hers.

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His tongue exploring her mouth sent ripples of warmth coursing through her veins. The crush of her breasts on his muscled chest made her nipples ache and she sought the friction of brushing against him. His instant reaction was to grind against her hips, causing his granite-like thing to house itself between her thighs. Ahhh! Kaitlin felt a throbbing sensation begin to pulsate through her belly. She had not known she had such a sensitive spot down there, but he obviously did, for he was teasing it now, bucking against her. Her body tingled, tiny pricks of flame igniting her skin everywhere. The area between her legs blazed with desire and need. Her thoughts centered only on the wonderful sensation of his jutting thing banging at her, begging to be released from the confines of his clothing. And then the contraction came, one great convulsive spasm that caused her to shudder uncontrollably. She gasped for air. When her mind could function again, she slowly opened her eyes to find Adair watching her, an inscrutable look on his face. He still had her hands imprisoned. Embarrassed, she looked down. “I didn’t know I could feel…” Adair shifted her wrists to one of his hands and tilted her chin up with a finger. “Ah, lass. That was only the first lesson.” He stepped back, but did not release his hold on her. “It’s obvious I can’t let ye roam the deck unless ye’re tied to me, so I’ll have to keep ye confined to the cabin.” Kaitlin stared at him. “You can’t keep me caged like an animal.” “For certes I can. It’s my ship.” I’ll never have a chance to escape! “I’ll go stark raving mad!” He leaned closer. “Ye’ll have your lessons to look forward to. Every night. By the time Ali Stafa sees ye, ye’ll be a most compliant concubine.” She had no intention of being compliant at anything, but she shivered in anticipation of what Adair might do. Having seen a stallion mount a mare once before her brothers had pulled her away, she knew where that hard thing should go. She wondered what it would feel like actually inside her and was surprised when a heated rush filled her again and started her nub pulsing. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what her traitorous body was doing. “What if I refuse?”

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For a moment he looked surprised and then he grinned. “Then the next lesson will be teaching ye to obey me.” “Obey you?” Kaitlin sputtered angrily. Even her father treaded lightly when ordering her around, and her brothers gave her a wide berth if her temper was up. “Never.” “We’ll see,” he said.

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Chapter Three Adair took a deep breath before he opened the door to the cabin the next evening. He had left Kaitlin alone the entire day, even instructing the cook not to speak to her when he brought her food, to give her time to think about obedience. He hoped she was ready for his lesson. She lay curled on the bed, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them. “Good evening,” Adair said as he stepped inside and slid the bolt to the cabin door. “Are ye ready for your lesson?” She gave him a dagger-edged look. He forced himself not to wince. “You left me alone all day.” “Aye. I said I would give ye time to think about the wisdom of accepting my teaching.” “Bloody arrogant bastard.” Adair blinked. Having four brothers had certainly enriched her vocabulary. “’Tis not a good choice of words, lass.” “Oh? I have more. In fact, I spent the whole bloody, damn day thinking of ways to describe you.” “I don’t care to hear them.” “Really?” She sat up furiously. “Too bad. You’re a—” Adair was at her side in three strides and clamped a hand over her mouth. “I said I dinna wish to hear your description of me. Maybe another time.” He released his hand. “—swine. An absolute—” He clamped his hand over her mouth again and leaned close. “If ye doona stop calling me names, I’ll be forced to tie ye again and put a gag in your mouth. Doona make me do that, lass.” She glared at him. “Do ye promise to behave?”

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He could see that she was warring with herself, and it was all he could do not to replace his hand with his mouth and cover her insults with deep hot kisses until all that anger turned to passion. Finally she nodded, although by the set of her rigid shoulders he knew she hadn’t fully acquiesced. Warily, he removed his hand, but she remained silent. “’Tis a good start, lass. The sultan prefers his harem to be docile.” From the glower she gave him, he knew she was anything but docile. “’Twill go more easily for ye, lass, if ye doona fight me…him, I mean.” She lifted her chin. Adair tilted his head, considering her silent defiance. “Perhaps I will postpone tonight’s lesson and try something else instead. I think we need to work on ye being properly respectful to a man.” Kaitlin said nothing. “We will begin with simple conversation then.” Adair went on as though she weren’t sullenly staring into space. “Proper conversation, none of the sailors’ words ye just used. I’ll begin. Ye are looking lovely.” She looked away. “The response should be, ‘Thank ye, my lord.’ Say it.” She remained silent. Adair sighed. “Lass. The sultan will not put up with such stubbornness. If ye refuse to talk, he may well take your tongue from your head.” She gave him a swift sideways glance, and he saw a moment of panic in her eyes before she turned away. He hated to scare her, but in reality, that could happen. “Let’s begin again. Ye are looking lovely.” She looked at him, sparks shooting from her eyes. “Thank ye, my lord swine.” “I said not to use those words.” “You said not to talk like a sailor. I didn’t call you bloody, did I?” He decided to try another tactic. “’Tis a lovely, warm day outside.” Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “It’s nighttime and cool.” “Nae. If I say it’s daytime, it is daytime.” She scowled. “Have you lost your wits?”

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“My wits are quite fine.” The scowl deepened. “Any fool can see what time of day it is.” “Mayhap. But if the sultan wishes to think it day, it is best that ye agree with him.” “Is the man deranged as well as decrepit?” “Nae, lass. ’Tis just better for ye if ye doona disagree with him. The more ye compliment him, the better ye’ll fare.” “If by that you mean the more often he’ll want me in his company, I think I’ll learn some more sailors’ words.” Her lips pursed in an inviting pout, and Adair was sure she didn’t know what kind of alluring effect her stubborn, spirited defiance was having on him. He felt his mouth twitching. He almost hoped she’d mutter some epithet because, by God, he would kiss her senseless until her vocabulary improved. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore his enlarging cock. “Better to pay the man a compliment. Try it on me.” She stared at him. “You want me to pay you a compliment?” “Aye.” “I won’t. You’ve already shown me what an arrogant ass—” He closed the space between them and pulled her up into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers, hot and demanding. His tongue thrust inside, deepening the kiss, even as he pressed her body the full length of his. For a moment, he was afraid she’d try to push him away, but then her body relaxed and melded into his. Slowly, her hands crept up around his neck, and her fingers intertwined in his hair as she began to return his kisses with a fever of her own. She tasted sweet, like mead, and was having about the same stupefying effect on his senses. With a supreme effort, he broke off the kiss and stepped back. “I think that’s enough of a lesson for tonight, lass,” he said and hoped his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. His groin throbbed in pain, needing release. If he didn’t leave now, Kaitlin would not remain a virgin. He forced himself to move to the door. “Doona call me a swine or an ass again, lass.”

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Her eyes glittered and the smile she gave him was smug. He walked away, feeling like maybe he had lost that battle.

Kaitlin was left alone the next day as well. The cook brought her food to her silently and this time, she didn’t even try to converse with him. Adair MacDouglas was a mystery to her. He hadn’t wanted her when she’d thrown herself at him, but last night had been different. She sensed the moment his kisses had changed from demanding dominance to something more needful when she started kissing him back. The realization made her heady with power. What would happen tonight? Would she be able to seduce him and lose her virginity? He might think he was giving her lessons in obedience, but she just might have a surprise for him. She was propped up against the headboard, pretending to read a book, when he entered the cabin later that evening. “Are ye ready for your second lesson, lass?” he asked as he set a small bowl down on the chest of drawers near the door. “That depends on what it is,” she answered. He smiled and opened a drawer and rummaged around, finally pulling out a flask. He brought it with him as he sat down on the bed next to her. “All good concubines know how to pleasure their master.” She raised an eyebrow. “Master? I don’t think I like the sound of that.” “It doona matter. ’Tis what he calls himself.” He looked at her warily. “Ye aren’t going to use foul words again, are ye?” “Do you want me to?” she asked and almost smiled at the hint of lust in his eyes before his face became impassive. It was certainly something to remember to get him to kiss her again. Just the thought of his mouth devouring hers made her body start to tingle. She glanced down to avoid letting those emotions show. “What is it you wish me to do?” He looked at her suspiciously. “Ye are being docile tonight, lass.” Kaitlin widened her eyes. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”

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He studied her a moment longer and then set the bottle on the table. “Aye. Ye may remove my shirt.” She hesitated just long enough for him to think she didn’t want to. Then she slowly reached up to undo the lacings. She felt him inhale sharply as her fingers grazed the warm skin of his chest and the power that she had felt last night surged through her. Seduction wasn’t so hard, after all. Then she gasped as he pulled the shirt over his head and bared himself to her. Her brothers had been shirtless around her, but she’d never seen such a sculpted body. Defined shoulder muscles slid into solid, well-developed arms. A light dusting of black hair covered his chest, spiraling downward in a slim line along his ridged stomach to disappear into his trews. He was bronzed all over and the predatory look in his golden eyes reminded her again of a wolf. Her resolve began to weaken. What was she getting herself into? He took her hand, turned the palm upward and then poured some sort of fragrant oil into her hand. “This was meant for Greer,” he said in a low rumble that sounded wolfish too. “But I’ll get her more. For tonight, I wish ye to rub my body with it.” She swallowed hard. She was pretty sure if she were going to lose her virginity, she’d have to touch Adair. And she wanted to. So why was she feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter? “I willna bite ye, lass,” Adair said softly. “’Tis a massage I’m asking for. The sultan will demand ye know how to please him.” The damn—sorry, Mama—sultan again. Kaitlin shuddered. The idea of touching the old man’s withered, loose skin nearly made her ill. One more reason she had to succeed at seducing Adair. “How do you want me to begin?” she asked. His eyes glowed with a strange light. “Begin with my shoulders. Work down my arms to my hands and fingers.” She did as he asked, reveling in the hard feel of him. His fingertips bore calluses that bespoke of his handling of ships’ lines and swords. He sat quite still, watching her as

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intently as a wolf might its prey. Only when she swirled a bit of oil into the palms of his hands did his gaze flicker and his eyes darken. “Is that all, my lord?” she asked. “Do my chest.” His voice was low-pitched and somewhat breathy. She glanced down demurely so he wouldn’t see the victory in her eyes. He was reacting to her. She was doing something right. It was heady stuff, having this womanly power. Dare she touch those flat, brown nipples of his? What would his reaction be? Tentatively, she feathered her fingers across them and was rewarded with a convulsive twitch of his body before he grabbed both her hands. “What are ye doing, lass?” “Being obedient. You told me to rub your chest.” He muttered something in Gaelic that sounded a lot like a curse. “I think ye’ve learned this lesson well enough.” Abruptly he stood and went to retrieve the bowl he had brought in earlier. He brought it to the bed and handed it to her. “Ye may feed me the grapes. One at a time.” Kaitlin stared at him, not believing that he had turned her down once again. Humiliation replaced the sense of power she’d thought she had. He was probably laughing inside at how easily she had obeyed him tonight. Well, that was over. She tossed her head. “No.” He frowned. “What did ye say?” “You heard me. I said ‘no’. I’m not feeding you. You’re a grown man. You can surely manage to eat a bowl of grapes by yourself.” “But I doona wish to,” he said smoothly. “I wish to have ye feed me.” Kaitlin took the bowl of grapes and threw them across the room. Then she folded her arms across her chest. “No.” His mouth hardened into a thin line and he stood. “I have tried to be gentle with ye, lass. Ye leave me no choice.” He grabbed his shirt and headed for the door, turning

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around just as he opened it. “Ye’ll have naught to eat until ye agree to feed me the way I ask.” With that, he stepped out onto the deck, slamming the door behind him. Kaitlin stared at the closed door for a moment before her temper took over. She grasped the small brass water pitcher by the bed and hurled it at the door where it made a satisfying smack. “Take that, my lord swine,” she said.

*

The ships were gaining on them. The wind nearly died as they entered the English Channel a day later, and by the time they reached Gibraltar, the three ships could easily be seen without the use of the telescope. Schooners, Adair thought as he relieved the helmsmen. At least they wouldn’t be heavily armed if it came to a battle at sea. Still, he’d rather get this sordid mess over without shots being fired. The navigator squinted as a he took a sun sight with the sextant and then looked at the cloudbank on the horizon. “On course, Captain, but the glass in the barometer be falling. These summer storms come up fast.” He looked behind him. “Too bad my mother-in-law isn’t on this trip.” Adair looked at him, puzzled. “Yer mother-in-law?” “Aye,” the seaman grinned. “She could nag some wind into our sails.” Adair laughed. “Mayhap I should bring Kaitlin on deck. For certes, she has no end of foul words to use on me.” Adair looked up at the sky. The breeze was freshening, clocking around, the clouds building with the change of direction and becoming darker. A storm brewed both on the water and in his mind. The idea of handing Kaitlin over to the sultan was not setting well with him. Still, he had sworn an oath and his sister needed that gold as a dowry if she were ever to get a decent husband now that her virginity had been taken.

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Yet he didn’t want Kaitlin hurt. As much as he admired women who thought independently, the aging sultan would not take well to her strong will, nor, for certes, her temper. The infidel would break her spirit, if not her body. Adair winced, thinking of her lovely smooth back covered in bloody welts. He must teach her how to obey a man even though he had a suspicion that he was doomed to failure, since his traitorous body went into full arousal at the mere sight of her. He would make another effort, one he really didn’t want to make.

Kaitlin fumed as she stomped back and forth in the small cabin. No one had brought her food or drink for two days and the chamber pot reeked. She felt filthy, not having been able to cleanse herself in that time. She sank down weakly on the bed. Did he mean to starve her? How attractive would she be emaciated? She stifled a hysterical giggle. No man, not even a shriveled-up old one, would want a haggard woman who smelled badly and had matted hair like a rat’s nest. Would he? The giggle ended on a sob. She was just a commodity. They were probably less than a day from Constantinople. She would have to do something soon. She turned at the sound of the door being unlocked and nearly fainted as the aroma of still-warm bread drifted toward her. And succulent fish as well. Her stomach growled its agony. Adair set the tray down on the dresser. As she brushed past him toward the food, he wrinkled his nose slightly, but Kaitlin was too hungry to care if she stank. It was his fault anyway. “Just a moment, lass.” His hand on her arm stayed her from reaching the bread. “A concubine never eats before the sultan has had his fill.” She stared at him. So it was back to that. She tossed her head. “First you starve me and now you’re going to torture me by withholding that delectable-smelling food?” “Ach, lass,” he said gently. “Doona fight me. Feed me a wee bite as I asked ye before and the rest is yours.”

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She could have sworn there was pity in his eyes, but his expression remained neutral. She warred with herself, not wanting to give in. Her stomach growled again menacingly. What does it matter if I feed him? It doesn’t mean I’ll feed the sultan. I’m not even going to meet the sultan. “All right,” she groused and tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to him. “There. You’re fed.” He shook his head. “A small piece, please.” Kaitlin took a deep breath and held her temper. She’d let him have a piece of her mind…right after she’d eaten. Elaborately, she pulled a bit of bread off the end. “Dip it in the honey,” he said. She gritted her teeth. He was pushing her limits. She resisted the urge to throw the pot of honey at him and lifted the lid off the crock. She dipped the bread, then lifted it up for him to take. “Feed it to me.” Enough was enough. Kaitlin jammed the piece into his mouth, wishing she could shove it down his throat. He spit it out. “Not like that, lass. Like a lover might. Do it again.” She could have wept in frustration. The fish was getting cold while he was playing this asinine game. As if she would ever be tamed to do a sultan’s bidding. She narrowed her eyes and gave him the look that would have stopped any of her boisterous brothers in their tracks. He just smiled. “I’m waiting.” Damn the man. Sorry, Mama. Kaitlin sighed and wished mightily she had a dirk. Reluctantly, she broke off another piece of bread and lathered it in honey. For a moment, she considered popping it into her own mouth out of defiance, but good judgment prevailed. He’d probably take the food away, and her mouth was watering so much, she was practically drooling. She forced herself to smile sweetly as she raised the bread to his lips. “For you. Lover.”

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Adair accepted the bread, his golden eyes burning into hers as he sucked her fingers into his mouth. The hot, wet feel of his tongue licking her fingers nearly overcame her. How could one man exude so much sensuality? She felt her arm begin to shake, a tremor that quickly pulsed down to her groin. She moaned slightly. He reached for the wooden knife and fork and sliced a piece of fish from the platter. “My turn,” he said as he lifted the fork to her mouth. She reached to take it from him, but he shook his head. “I’m going to show ye what the sultan would expect. ’Twill be wise of ye to learn, lass. Come, sit.” He led her to the table and proceeded to feed her, one bite at a time, lightly wiping crumbs from her lips, encouraging her to lick the honey from his fingers as he fed her bread. The sensation of his fingers in her mouth, teasing her, nearly made her forgive him. Almost. A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. Adair opened it and nodded to the yeomen who carried steaming buckets of water. Soon, the wooden tub in the corner of the room was filled. A bath. Heavenly. She was sated with food and soon she would be clean. Adair locked the door after the men left and began unbuttoning his shirt. “What do you think you’re doing?” Kaitlin asked. “Getting undressed,” he answered affably. “Ye’re going to give me a bath. It is something all concubines are skilled at.” The arrogance of the man! She was not a concubine. She wasn’t about to bathe anyone. She was the one in need of a bath. Are you sure you don’t want to see him naked? She tried to ignore the siren in her head, but it was persistent. Remember your alternate plan? ,It might still work. His muscles rippled as he removed his shirt, exposing a hard chest dusted lightly with curls of dark hair that descended past the twin ropes of muscle across his stomach and disappeared into his trews. He removed his boots and socks and came to stand before her, reaching for her hand and placing it on his belt buckle, his wolf-like gaze holding hers.

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She trembled. This close, the scent of him was intoxicating. Spicy, soap and leather. Wait, soap? She sniffed. He was clean. He didn’t need a bath. She felt his hand over hers, gently helping her undo the laces to his trews. And then, as he slipped them lower, she felt it. Dear God. It felt as hard and thick and long as a cudgel! Dare she sneak a peek? She did. And then quickly averted her eyes, her face flaming. Adair laughed. “Ach, lass. ’Tis okay to look. Even better to feel.” Slowly, he moved her hand along the granite shaft. Kaitlin gasped. His skin was soft, like velvet over steel. She knew enough about animal husbandry to know where that was supposed to go. It will never fit. The muse inside her head laughed at her. Well, it won’t. Was her second plan really a good idea? She withdrew her hand shakily. “If it’s a bath you want, you best get in the tub.” For an answer, he began to undo the buttons of her shirt. “Ye will be joining me.” “I will not.” She clutched at her shirt. He tugged her hands away. “Ye will. ’Tis my wish.” “Well, ’tis my wish that ye leave and let me have my bath in peace.” Her voice mocked his burr. Yes. Leave. No. Stay. I want…no, I do not…she couldn’t think straight with his hands sliding seductively along her shoulders, edging her shirt off. He stopped in mid-motion and arched an eyebrow. “Lassie, I am teaching you the ways of a concubine for your own safety. Ye must obey Ali Stafa or things will not go well for ye inside the harem.” He really did think she was going to agree to be a concubine. Her kindling passion blazed into full flaming anger. She forgot all about alternate plans. If he thought she would actually touch a withered old man, she’d have to set the record straight. She’d show him what she would do to that old man. Kaitlin swung at Adair. He caught her arm and she found herself tossed on the bed, arms over her head, wrists clasped in one of his hands while he slid her trews down with the other. Exposed, she struggled to turn from him, but he pressed his body firmly on top of her, pinning her to the bed.

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She felt his thing jutting against her belly and then his mouth was on hers, hard and demanding, his tongue seeking entrance. Her deceitful lips parted of their own accord, and her tongue met his in a clashing of wills. And then he moved down to her breast, his lips suddenly gentle as he suckled. Kaitlin felt her anger melting like butter in a hot skillet. A different fire coursed through her veins, racking her body with torrid fervor. The whole world lurched wildly as she writhed beneath him. And lurched again. Dinner dishes went flying off the dresser as the frigate heeled sharply to starboard, righted herself and then tilted again. Water splashed over the tub and spread over the hard-planked floor. “Damn!” Adair flung himself off the bed, reaching for his trews, even as they heard the boatswain’s whistle for the crew to man their stations. “That storm’s hit harder and faster than I thought.” He pulled on his boots and grabbed his shirt. He opened the door and the wind and rain gushed in. “Ye stay put. Hang on the bedpost. A frigate’s never rolled, but we may breach if we can’t get some of those sails down fast.” With that, he was gone. He forgot to lock the door. Kaitlin dressed quickly and staggered to the door. She opened it cautiously, only to have the gale-force wind rip it from her hands. Her hair whipped loose around her head, stinging her cheeks even as the slashing, side-driven rain nearly blinded her. She inched her way along the deck, holding onto the wall, well away from the rail. Sailors were shouting and cursing as they struggled with the huge square-rigged sails. One, standing on a yardarm, lost his balance and fell. Kaitlin’s hand flew up to her mouth, and then she breathed a sigh of relief as he dangled from a safety rope. The man swung himself toward the mast and wrapped arms and legs around it, much like a bear climbing a tree. She watched incredulously as he maneuvered his way back to a standing position and yanked the sail down. The ship still heeled, but not nearly so much with half the canvas down. They were in a quartering sea and, as Kaitlin looked to the stern, she saw the white foam blowing off crests of waves that threatened to swamp the poop deck.

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She was tempted to curse out loud. She had finally escaped the confines of the cabin, but the sea was too rough to even try getting a lifeboat down, and there was no way she could swim. In the inky darkness of night, she had no idea of how far they were from land. Her only hope lay in finding a place to hide until dawn broke and the seas calmed. Then she could get her bearings. The one thing she was certain of was that she would not be on this ship when it docked in Constantinople. She looked about for a place to hide. Unfortunately, Adair kept a tidy ship. There were no loose boxes or barrels anywhere on deck and she couldn’t very well go to the crew’s quarters. She tried the door that led down to the cargo hold and found it locked. There was no place to hide beneath the benches below deck that the rowers used. The lifeboats? Emergency supplies stayed in them. Perhaps she could hide under one of the tarps. Worth a try and at least she’d be ready when the sea lay down. Carefully, she made her way across the sloping deck to the rail from which a lifeboat hung, protected by huge fenders. It would be a drop of about four feet, but the ship had steadied herself and Kaitlin cautiously lifted one leg over, hands clenching the rail as she straddled it. The ship lurched and she nearly lost her grip, the rain making the oiled teak slick. She felt her heart pound and waited until she could breathe normally again. Slowly, she brought her other leg over until she was sitting on top of the rail. Now all she had to do was give herself a little push… “Kaitlin! No!” Adair rounded a corner and rushed toward her just as the frigate caught a huge swell, lifting her bow high and then falling into the trough. With a scream, Kaitlin pitched headlong into the churning sea.

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Chapter Four “Man overboard!” Adair yelled into the howling wind, but had no idea if anyone would hear him. Frantically, he hoisted himself into the lifeboat and began throwing anything that would float overboard. He strained to make out a form in the swirling water or to hear a cry for help, but the wind deafened any other sound. He turned his attention to releasing the pulleys that would lower the boat into the angry sea. He had no idea if Kaitlin could swim. In these conditions, he’d have a hard time staying afloat himself. The rain still fell in needle-sharp sheets and they were at least a mile from shore. Staying well off shore was a precaution he always took, especially at night. And he had no way of knowing how far off course they’d been blown by the squalls. He gave a shrill blast on his captain’s whistle and was relieved when the boatswain’s head appeared over the rail looking down. “Reef down and come about,” Adair called as the lifeboat splashed down. “Keep circling until I return.” “Aye, Captain,” the man answered and Adair could hear him shouting orders to the helmsman and to the other sailors to get more lifeboats launched. “Ah, Kaitlin, how could ye be so foolish?” Adair bit back the words. It was his fault she was in peril. Had he not been so set on avenging his sister’s rape, he would never have considered selling any woman into sexual slavery, let alone Kaitlin. He should have known he’d never be able to do it. Even depriving her of food for two days had wrenched his gut, and he hadn’t eaten anything himself the second day. Those lessons had never been for the sultan, they’d been for him. How he’d enjoyed feeding her slowly, watching her lips take the food, sucking on her fingers afterward. And he’d had strategies planned for a long, slow, sensual bath tonight. But when she tried to slap him, he’d lost control and given in to his impulses. And she had reacted like he hoped she would. All feminine. All woman. She had wanted him. He felt it. If that damn storm hadn’t hit, they’d be safe and warm in his bed, his cock buried deep inside her, 34

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taking her to the limit, giving her pleasure, causing that beautiful body to shudder in delightful explosions all night long. Sweet Kaitlin. Stubborn, hot-tempered, independent Kaitlin. I love her. A pity I didn’t realize it until now, when it may be too late. He strained to hear above the still-shrieking wind. All he could hear was the howling in the loose rigging as the frigate lumbered through the confused waves. He made out more lifeboats now, but no sign of a swimming form. “Brighid,” he prayed. “Doona let me lose her. She doona deserve to die.” The wind stilled suddenly, as if the saint had indeed answered him. And then he heard it. A distant cry for help, somewhere astern of him. He dipped the oar deeply into the water, spinning the small boat around, and stroked furiously to where Kaitlin clung precariously to life.

“Help!” Kaitlin cried out, her throat burning and hoarse from the seawater she had swallowed. She knew she should conserve her energy, but logic was not winning over her fear. She had managed to catch a small wooden cover from a crate that Adair had thrown overboard. She made little headway because of the bulkiness of it, but it kept her afloat and she didn’t dare let go. The swells were still too strong to attempt swimming. Dimly, she made out the shadow-shape of the big frigate as it turned slowly. Did that meant they knew she was overboard? She thought she heard Adair calling to her, but the way the boat creaked and groaned against the force of the waves, she wasn’t sure. If she could just hang on. Her arms were tired and she tried to pull more of her body over the wood, but she was getting weak. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a little while… From far away, she heard her name being called, but she was comfortable now, the subsiding swells lulling her as her crate cover rose and fell in the warm Mediterranean waters. Just a little sleep was all she needed. “Kaitlin!” the voice roared at her and she heard the splash of oars. Then strong hands were around her waist, pulling her up. She struggled to open her eyes. Adair. She was safe. It was over. Gratefully, she slumped against his chest, dimly aware that he was

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muttering something that sounded like an apology and “I love ye,” but that didn’t make sense. She had nearly died; she was just imagining what she wanted to hear. As the lifeboat approached the frigate, Adair tossed the painter line up, securing them, and a rope ladder was let down. Kaitlin wondered how she’d have the strength to climb when Adair put her arms around his neck, cupped her buttocks and lifted her. “Wrap your legs around my waist, lass, and hold tight.” Half-drowned as she was, having the most sensitive part of her pressing against him still felt good. Kaitlin hugged herself closer and felt Adair pause and take a sharp breath before he resumed climbing. Once on deck, Adair shouted orders for hot water and towels and carried her to their cabin. He wrapped her in a warm blanket while they waited for the tub to be filled and, once that was done, he bolted the door. She was too tired to protest when he removed the blanket and unbuttoned her soaking shirt and slipped it off. He stared hungrily at her breasts and reached to caress one, but then dropped his hand. Instead, he helped her out of the wet boots and pants and carried her to the tub. Hmmm. Being held naked in his strong arms wasn’t a bad thing. If she weren’t so weak, she’d do something about that. Seducing him was the only option left. Trying to escape had nearly killed her. He set her down in the steamy water and then stripped to join her. That beautiful, hard body, with its wide shoulders, perfectly sculpted chest, flat stomach and…and a perfectly huge thing…lowered behind her, splashing water out. She felt his glorious manhood press between her buttocks. Maybe she wasn’t so tired after all. “Your hair, first,” he whispered as he lathered the shampoo. His strong fingers gently massaging her scalp was heavenly. It was enough to put a woman to sleep if she weren’t all too aware of how male he was. He dipped her and cradled her head while he rinsed the suds out, then he soaped a cloth and began bathing her with slow, sensual strokes over her shoulders and back. Adair wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned against him as he squeezed soapy water over her breasts. Her nipples budded immediately and Kaitlin felt an aching need for them to be touched, but

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he moved on, slipping the cloth over her belly and then softly between her legs, sliding it back and forth lightly until the throbbing that began at her very center spread like liquid fire through her veins. She was fairly sure that her skin was sizzling in the tepid water. And then he kissed the nape of her neck. One of her most vulnerable spots. Her body shuddered. God, she’d follow this man anywhere. Adair laughed softly and nudged her to stand. He lifted her out of the tub and encased her in a big, thirsty towel, pulling its ends toward him, forcing her slick body against his. He nuzzled her throat. “Did ye like your bath, lass?” The most she could emit was a weak squeak, but he didn’t wait for a reply. He nibbled her ear and rained butterfly kisses on her forehead, down her cheeks, and across her chin while his hands roamed her back and cupped her buttocks, pressing her even more closely to him. The towel dropped to the bearskin rug unnoticed as he gave her a necklace of soft, sucking kisses that were sure to leave a reminder of his passion. Kaitlin groaned in pleasure and, for one moment, those gleaming golden eyes bore into hers and then he kissed her. Perhaps kiss was an understatement. The man was making love to her mouth. He brushed her lips with his, so lightly it was almost a tickle. Then came slow, soft, gentle kisses as if he were asking to know her. Lots of them, as though he had nothing better to do for days on end. Dear Lord, that was a thought. Enough of them to make her want more, harder and pressing. He teased her with his tongue, licking her lips sensuously, tugging her lower lip between his, sucking it. Kaitlin moaned low in her throat, her body at fever pitch, every nerve-ending tingling in anticipation. She wanted more. Much more. She wanted him to plunder her mouth, plunder her body. Oh, yes. Please. Adair crushed her to him, his swollen shaft jutting hard against her stomach as he obliged, deepening the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside, exploring her mouth. His lips were demanding and he slanted them on hers, first this way and then that, until Kaitlin’s mouth was hot and puffy. He grasped her head in his hands, gently forcing her jaws open for an even deeper, all-encompassing kiss and then he leaned back, watching her.

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Kaitlin panted, her eyes glazed, her mind half-numb. She didn’t have much experience with kissing—her brothers wouldn’t let her alone with any man—but she was pretty sure that all men didn’t kiss like Adair did. Her body had never felt so inflamed. She stretched on tiptoe to give Adair another kiss. A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I take it ye don’t mind my kissin’.” She stared at him. Mind? He was making fun of her. Her face flamed. He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. His golden eyes gleamed in the low lamp light. “There’s much more I want to do with ye, lass, but I’ll give ye this chance to say no. If ye say naught, I won’t stop until I’m done.” More? Oh, yes. The idea of escaping flew out the porthole. She wanted this man. In every carnal way she could imagine. This is a lesson truly worth learning. Adair put his arms around her waist and drew her down on the bearskin rug with him. “Turn over, lass.” Kaitlin gave him a wide-eyed look before complying. What could he possibly want with her backside? She was about to find out. He caressed her back with long, smooth strokes of his hand, kneading her buttocks, sliding his finger into the folds of flesh between them. Kaitlin quivered beneath his touch. How could such a strong hand be so gentle? She gasped as he began a slow trail of kisses down her spine, his tongue circling lazily in the indention where the curve of her back met her buttocks. Adair nipped her buttocks, lightly at first and then more sharply, filling her with new and strange scintillation. He moved languidly down her thighs, laved the skin with his tongue, and kissed the backs of her knees. Kaitlin began to shudder helplessly. What else was he capable of? He kissed his way back up her spine and rolled her over, covering her mouth with his own, claiming her as a hand cupped a breast, the thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple gently between them. Kaitlin whimpered. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen, and Adair was bedeviling them, flicking a nipple back and forth with one finger, then lightly pinching the other. He dipped his head and began to suckle. Kaitlin ran her fingers

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Capture Her Heart

through his silky hair and pressed his head to her, causing him to suck harder and longer, the sensation driving deep and straight through her belly to the very core of her center. Adair moved downward, placing light kisses across her stomach until he reached her wet, glistening mound. “Spread your legs for me, lass.” Kaitlin gulped and closed her eyes. So this was it. As much as she wanted him, she was suddenly scared. Hadn’t her mother said there would be pain? Glancing down at his manhood, she shifted uneasily. Would he even fit? His thing was huge and was growing even more, turning darker as it became infused with blood. She felt his hands prying her knees apart and then his fingers lightly traced a path along the inside of her thighs. It felt good. Really good, in fact. Kaitlin felt him shift his body weight over her, his thighs splaying her legs wide. She held her breath and…Lord Almighty. What was he doing there? He buried his tongue to lap at her juice. Then he began to lick her in long, flat, smooth strokes, causing a continuous throb to vibrate through her. His tongue circled that little sensitive spot, slowly causing Kaitlin to moan in earnest at this latest sensual assault. His lips gave deep lush kisses and she made a helpless, mewling noise. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t feel her arms or legs or anything except that exquisite torture that was taking place between her legs. Adair reached up to squeeze her nipples as he took her pulsating nub into his mouth and sucked hard. Kaitlin’s contractions ebbed and flowed, building in intensity until her world shattered like a crashing wave smashing over rocks. She lay panting, adrift in the aftermath, scarcely aware that Adair had slid his body upward and over hers. He nudged his shaft into the entrance of her womanhood and entered slowly until he met the barrier of her virginity. “I doona want to hurt ye.” He pushed a little harder and Kaitlin gasped. “Try to relax. ’Twill be easier for ye.” “I’m trying.” After he’d caused her body to shatter like that, she knew he would be gentle…but he was so big. Already, she felt stretched.

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He claimed her mouth with his own, his tongue probing deeply, demanding her attention. His lips lavished hers until she was lost again in heady sensations. He withdrew his tongue, and then dipped into her mouth again. With one powerful thrust, he plunged inside her. The pain was sharp and searing. Kaitlin stiffened and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Adair held himself quite still, not moving inside her. “The worst is over now. Let me know when the hurting stops.” She took a ragged breath. The pain was receding. She was beginning to feel him. He filled her. Completely. Nerve endings she didn’t know she had came into play. An urge to feel him move inside her was overwhelming. She wiggled her hips. Adair grinned. “Aye, lass, I think ye’ll be a quick learner.” He began to withdraw and then penetrated her again. She gasped, this time in pleasure. He kept the strokes long and slow until she gyrated against him, a silent plea that told him she was ready for more. Then he lost himself in her, plunging deeply, ramming his cock hard. Kaitlin arched up to meet him, wanting to take all of him with every thrust. Feeling him touch her inner wall set waves rippling through her groin, washing over her, but doing nothing to cool the heat undulating from every pore. She writhed under him, legs wrapped around his, as he ground his hips against hers. The burning in her blood had long blazed into an inferno. Kaitlin began to tremble with volcanic force, the tremor starting slowly, building, convulsing, claiming her entire body in one long ultra-spasm. Adair growled low in his throat as their glistening, sweat-coated bodies strained toward fulfillment. Kaitlin was like a wild mare, bucking beneath him. Everything he had hoped she would be and more. The muscles in his neck and shoulders corded as he impaled her to his hilt one final time, feeling her contraction grab and hold him. They lay gasping, his shaft still inside her, hearts still racing. Eventually, their breathing slowed and Adair slowly withdrew to turn on his side facing her, a hand lightly lifting her hair from her damp forehead.

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In the midst of her happiness, Kaitlin felt a pang of melancholy. She had accomplished her plan, her virginity was gone. Would Adair still sell her to the sultan? If he did, she’d still have to escape. “When will we arrive in Constantinople?” she asked. “Not any time soon.” Adair nuzzled her neck. “Anyway, I plan to keep ye in bed with me for the whole week before we make port.” “A week? We were only two days out of Constantinople when the storm broke. Surely we couldn’t have drifted that far off course?” “Nay, lass. We’re on course.” Kaitlin was confused and getting more distracted by the fact that she could feel him hardening again and nudging firmly against her leg. His nibbling on her neck wasn’t helping matters either. “Adair. You’re not making sense. Why will be out to sea for a week?” He cupped a breast, teasing the nipple before he answered. “Because that’s as long as it will take to reach Alclud.” Kaitlin grabbed his hand. “Stop. Alclud? We’re going back?” Adair grinned at her. “Not only are we going back, I’m going to ask your father permission to pay ye court.” He hesitated. “That is, if ye’ll be willing to have me.” She stared at him for a long minute and then smiled slowly and wrapped one leg around his buttocks. “Why don’t you try to persuade me that I do?” “Ah, lassie,” he said as he rocked against her hips, the tip of him finding her entrance. “Will ye be making me work this hard for everything?” “You can count on it,” Kaitlin answered as she flexed her back and took him inside. “But right now, I think it’s time for another lesson.”

A rapid knock on the door the next morning broke off their lovemaking. With a muttered curse, Adair went to the door. “This had better be good,” he said to the first mate.

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The man nodded. “We’re under attack. You’d best come on deck.” O’Donnell’s schooners. They hadn’t been that far behind and now that Adair had turned back, they’d be meeting them straight on. And they didn’t know that Kaitlin was still on board. He reached the deck, half-dressed. The flagship was directly in front of him, the other two flanking him on either side. If he couldn’t talk his way out of this, both his ship and crew would be lost. “Has the flagman signaled yet?” “Affirmative,” the First Mate said. “’Tis Lord Coltan who wishes to speak to you first before they begin firing.” Adair breathed a sigh of relief. Once he realized Kaitlin was unharmed…he stopped. Unharmed, maybe, but not unviolated. Her father wouldn’t easily forgive him for taking her chastity. His flagman signaled them to approach and a lifeboat was lowered, two oarsmen manning it as it approached. Both of them were fully armed. But that wasn’t what Adair was looking at. Coltan and his son were both in the boat, but so was his sister, Greer. Was she a hostage? Stupid of them for not leaving her on the flagship then. He’d make sure she didn’t return with them, no matter what the cost. He’d already lost a chance for her dowry, he would not allow her to be held hostage for his own mistakes. As soon as Greer came on board, he swept her up in a brotherly hug and then put her behind him. He waited for the men. “You have my daughter?” Coltan didn’t mince words. Before Adair could answer, Kaitlin approached. “I’m all right, Father. Mr. MacDouglas changed his mind and was returning me to you. No harm’s been done.” Her father gathered her into his arms. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll see you safely home then.”

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For certes, he would. What had Adair been thinking? That he could abduct a pretty young woman, change his mind, and then expect her father—a lord, no less—to allow him to court her? He must have been thinking with his small head. Profound desolation flooded him. He would probably never see Kaitlin again. Kaitlin gave him a strange look and then she turned on her brother. “Broderick. You are the one responsible for all of this. I think you have some explaining to do. How could you disgrace yourself and dishonor a young girl like this?” “He didn’t rape me. His friends tried to.” Greer stepped out from behind her brother’s back. “Broderick saved me.” Adair’s mouth fell open and he closed it with a snap. Greer had been beaten, bruised and there had been blood trickling on her thigh. He’d assumed it was from a rape. She’d been in such shock, she’d turned mute. “But ye pointed him out to me,” he said. “Nay, brother,” she answered. “I tried to speak but I couldna. I put up a good fight like ye taught me. But there were two of them. If Broderick hadna stepped in, I would have lost my virtue.” She looked up at him with soulful eyes. “We want to post Banns, Adair. Mama and Da are dead. It’s ye who will have to give permission.” “Ye want to marry the lad?” “Aye. More than anything.” He stared at his baby sister. Not only had there not been a rape, she wanted to marry the brother of the woman he loved. A strapping, good-looking lad who had saved his sister’s life. He couldn’t have asked for anything better, Brighid be praised. Perhaps this would ease the way for him. He looked at Kaitlin’s father. “This is right by ye?” Lord Coltan frowned. “My son loves Greer. I have no problem with that. I don’t much like the idea of having you in the family though. What are you anyway? A pirate?” Adair drew himself up to his full six-feet-four-inches. “Nae. Never. My ancestors have been seagoing merchants for centuries. My land abuts O’Donnell’s and is about the same size.” Kaitlin stared at him. “You’re a laird?”

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“Aye, lass.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” He shrugged. “Dinna seem important.” She gave an exasperated sigh. He realized he’d probably have more explaining to do when she found out about the rest of what he owned. If he had the chance to tell her. Adair turned back to her father. “I’ll give my consent to the Banns for Greer if ye’ll give consent to post them for your daughter and I.” Her father frowned. “You abducted my daughter. Now you want to marry her?” “I do.” “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Broderick asked. “Kaitlin may have been too scared to unleash her temper on you, but—” “I’ve had a taste of her temper,” Adair replied with a slight smile. Kaitlin glared at her brother. “And you’ll be getting another taste of it, too, if you don’t be quiet.” He rolled his eyes. “You see what I mean? She’ll stand up to you.” Adair’s grin widened. “I’m planning on it.” Colton cleared his throat and turned to Kaitlin. “What have you to say, daughter? He was your captor. You love this man?” She smiled happily. “Yes, Father, I do.” She stepped away from him and into Adair’s embrace. “If you say no, I shall never marry.” Adair stifled a laugh at her father’s defeated expression. His Kaitlin, it seemed, was willing to take on anyone. He could foresee many a hardheaded clash ahead, for he was fully as stubborn as she. But he knew, too, that there would be only one way to make up for those arguments. In bed. He thought about all the delicious ways they would do just that.

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About the Author To learn more about Cynthia Breeding, please visit www.cynthiabreeding.com.

An ancient prophecy. A sheikh's passion. One woman will ignite the flame that fulfills them both.

Mirage © 2007 Monica Burns A man without a country…

Half Bedouin, half English, the Viscount Blakeney has always been Sheikh Altair Mazir in his heart. A victim of prejudice from both cultures, he’s learned to trust no one. But a feisty American archeologist and the heat she ignites in him is about to change all that. And more.

An independent woman hunting for a Pharaoh’s treasure…

Alexandra Talbot is used to men questioning her intelligence simply because of her sex. But the mysterious Viscount isn’t like other men. He never questions her ability to find the lost city of Ramesses II, only her resistance to the sinful pleasure of his touch.

An ancient prophecy…

Bound by a Pharaoh’s prophecy, desire flares between them beneath the desert stars. But murder and betrayal turn their quest into a deadly game, pushing their fragile trust to the breaking point.

Their survival hinges on rebuilding that trust.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Mirage: His tall figure filled the doorway as she flung the door open. She fought to keep breathing. There was only one word to describe him. Magnificent. Unable to take her

eyes off him, she struggled to calm her erratic heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, curiosity made her question why he was dressed like one of the natives. The thought was a fleeting one as she fought to keep her senses from responding to his commanding presence. Dressed in the dark blue, flowing garment of the Mazir, he looked as if he had been born to wear the desert clothing. No longer the English lord, he was as lean and predatory as a leopard. A utility belt filled with rifle cartridges crossed his chest, while a pistol was tucked into a belt around his waist. His entire appearance emanated a sense of danger and excitement. Beneath his eyes, Mazir tribal symbols stained his brown cheeks. His wavy brown hair, no longer restrained by a ribbon, tumbled down over his shoulders. The image of spiking her fingers through the dark, glossy curls sent a stream of liquid fire through her. Good lord, she barely knew the man, and yet here she was ready to offer herself to him. She drew in a sharp breath, as she looked up into the warmth of his brown eyes. “Good morning,” he murmured. Alarm bells went off in her head at the sound of his husky greeting. If she were to open her mouth, she was certain more than a dozen butterflies would flee their captivity in her stomach. “Good…morning.” The breathless quality of her voice dismayed her. Oh God, she sounded as flustered as she felt. The sudden glint of satisfaction in his eyes made the fluttering wings in her stomach stir restlessly. Her voice had revealed far too much about the effect he had on her. Desperate to regain control of her senses, she swallowed the sensual urges threatening to take control. “I…you…you look so different. Not like yourself at all.” “And how do you think I should look, Alex?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her intently. The dark, disturbing expression in his gaze sent her heart slamming into her chest. Tiny frissons caressed her skin as his gaze slid over her. Aroused by the mysteriously hungry look in his eyes, she shook her head as if doing so would help clear her thoughts as well as the desire curling inside her. “It’s just that you surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to see you dressed like a Mazir.”

“I find the gambaz cooler and more comfortable than my English clothes.” She nodded at his explanation. Oddly enough, he did look comfortable. Far more so than when he was wearing the starched shirt and tie he usually wore. The gambaz enhanced the dangerous edge of his darkly handsome features. Did the man have any idea how devastating he was dressed like a Bedouin? There was a wicked savagery about him that tantalized her senses and made her breath hitch. Trying to suppress the urge to reach out and touch him, she inhaled a deep breath. “Is something wrong, Alex?” The gleam in his eye made the palms of her hands damp. “No, not at all.” She forced the words past her lips, alarmed by the need building inside her. A brown finger traced the outline of her lips as he leaned toward her. Cedarwood and sweet fennel tempted her senses. “Liar,” he whispered, as a smile of satisfaction curved his mouth. “Your heart is beating as if you were a jerboa caught in the claws of a leopard.” His analogy was ironic given she’d likened him to a leopard earlier. Especially when she really did feel just like a mouse trapped beneath his masterful gaze. The dark brown eyes holding her gaze hostage glittered with a dangerous light. Drinking in the masculine scent of him, her lungs tugged in a sharp breath of need. She wanted him to kiss her. Appalled, she tried to find a footing on the slippery path she was treading. Diversion. That’s what was called for—a diversion. “I…I…why do you wear the Mazir marks on your cheeks?” She almost blew out a whoosh of air as she asked the question with great relief. That would help lessen this tension between them. “They reflect the sunlight and protect my eyes. But they’re also a sign of my respect for the Mazir.” He arched an eyebrow at her as his finger trailed along the edge of her jaw in a slow, seductive stroke. The touch singed every nerve in his path. “But that’s not what you really wanted to ask me, is it?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took a quick step back from him.

“Ah, so you didn’t want to ask when we were to visit the Pyramids. As you wish.” As he turned away from her, she sprang forward. The man was tormenting her by making her think he wouldn’t take her to the Pyramids. Determined to halt his departure, she clutched at his arm. How soft the material of his robe was beneath her fingers. “Don’t you dare tease me like that!” A quick flame came to life in his dark eyes as he turned and looked down into her face. The slight smile curving his lips made her heart race. The man was far too attractive for his own good. “How would you like me tease you, Alex?” She took a quick step backward at the surprising question. With an abrupt shake of her head, she pressed her hand against his chest as he followed her. “I don’t…I meant…I want to visit the Pyramids.” “I see. So you weren’t hoping I’d find some other way to tease you?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spluttered. His dark hand reached out to caress her cheek. No. If he kissed her again, she wouldn’t be able to control the desire shooting through every part of her body. She took another step back. Once again, he followed her. Now the space between them was almost nonexistent. He lowered his head. Dear Lord, he smelled wonderful. He had an earthy male scent that tormented her senses. A shiver pulsed through her as the warmth of his breath stirred the wisps of hair at her ear. “Don’t you? That’s disappointing because I’m finding it increasingly difficult to get the image of your luscious body out of my head.” She gasped at the seductive heat of his words. He nipped at her ear lobe and reason slipped out of her head. “Do you know what I dreamed about last night, Alex? I dreamed I was sucking on those beautiful, dusky nipples of yours.” “Oh, God,” she whispered, unable to say anything else. “Can you imagine what else I dreamed about? Shall I tell you?” Don’t moan, Alex. Whatever you do, don’t moan. She swayed into him, her fingers splayed across the upper part of his chest.

No. No. This wasn’t good at all.

An erotica writer pens a tale of medieval lust and suspense to catch the interest of the man of her dreams.

Unholy Vows © 2007 Ciar Cullen With her New Age shop Raven’s Cave making money, Jennifer knows that she will be able to keep her beach home where she had lived with her ex-husband. But the victory feels hollow, the house no longer a home as a new divorcee. She secretly desires her ex’s younger foster brother, Shawn. With Shawn’s annual visit imminent, Jennifer doesn’t want to let her attraction to him become obvious. Shawn has concealed his own deep feelings for her, as he thinks he is just a dull scientist and not worthy of her affection. But when he reads an erotic romance written by Jennifer, Shawn wonders if she has experienced or just fantasized about any of the sexual situations. When Shawn finishes reading Jennifer’s story, he wonders if the character of Simon could possibly be based on him. He feels certain Jennifer doesn’t perceive him this way, but it would be his dream-come-true if she did care for him like Gwyneth cares for Simon. Will Shawn find the perfect words to express his true feelings for Jennifer when the opportunity arises?

Enjoy the following excerpt for Unholy Vows

Simon watched her from beneath his dark hood, knowing the grey wall and bleak night hid him from human vision. There was no doubt she intended to repeat the rituals he’d witnessed on the night of the full moon, three months in a row. The tall, buxom beauty intoned strange words, as if speaking to the trees and herbs and the moon itself. She would lean to the ground to pull plants, roots and all, and place them in a rough basket. At one point, she spun in a circle, arms flying and dress swinging, as she laughed and sang in an odd tongue. And then the inevitable sight—the one he waited breathlessly

for. She pulled off her cloak, unbuttoned her simple dress, and stepped into the stream, naked except for a medallion hanging between her full breasts. The sight of her beauty shattered him each time. For years, this perfect woman had taunted him with her appearance, her intelligence, her kindness, her humor. And yet, she knew nothing of her effect on him. The nest of black curls between her creamy thighs, her dark nipples puckered in the cold night air, her long, black hair brushing perfect buttocks—all pulled at his soul. Each time he spied on her, Simon ran his hand down his hard shaft, pretending it was her hand, her hot mouth taking him in. Her hand caressing the crease beneath, her tongue licking and teasing all of him. He would bite his lip raw to stop from crying out as he spilled hot liquid. Then he would wander the seven miles back to the monastery, straining to remember every detail of her, burning the vision of her into his brain so he could repeat his release again and again before morning. By nightfall the next day, he would confess and be forgiven. Simon wondered if Brother Adrian laughed at him, ridiculed him for his obsession with the Raven, as he nicknamed her. If only Adrian knew she was a witch, how the laughter would cease. Simon wondered how much longer his confessor would be willing to keep the secret of the master of Castle Carnoor. Did the holy man know the Raven’s true identity?

Gwyneth smiled as she crossed the tiny footbridge and took the twisting, stony path up the hill towards her cottage. Perhaps the next time she would make the pathetic monk cry out for her. She would caress herself in plain view, show him her wet folds, pinch her hard nipples, and rub herself to ecstasy. It had been too long since she’d felt a man’s hardness fill her, pound into her, give her the release she missed. The release she couldn’t match by her own hand. One of the brothers would be safe enough. No chance of marriage. The Grey Cloak would care not that she could not bear him a child. Gwyneth sighed. If only her brother-in-law Simon did not need an heir. And did not hate her, she mused sadly. She would pursue him wantonly, be his whore willingly. The familiar shiver of dread and excitement filled her at the thought of her dark, brooding

brother-in-law. His eyes were the color of green leaves in the fall when the sun begins to infuse them with gold. A thin, pale scar cut across the edge of his chin, the result of a wound Gwyneth had inflicted herself years before in youthful play. Simon’s black hair was full, falling in waves to well beneath his collar, his body was hard and lean. Six years younger than his brother, four years younger than her. How many times had she watched him in swordplay, half-dressed, sweat glistening on his bronze skin, and muscles bulging? How many times had she shut her eyes against the sight of her husband, Lester, pretending that Simon hovered over her instead? How long had she craved the touch of the wrong man? She counted off the years—since Simon was but sixteen. And how many times in the last year had she pleaded with Simon to believe in her innocence? “I did not kill your brother, Simon. But I know who did,” she muttered to the night air, whispering a quick prayer for the soul of her lost husband. He had been a brutal master, and he needed all the prayers living souls could offer. No doubt the prayers were wasted, and Lester rotted in Hell with his kind. But she would keep the secret, go to her grave letting Simon believe she was guilty, lest more pain come to the murderer. No, Simon Malstron Carnoor would never be hers, and that fact would plague her heart and soul for all eternity. Gwyneth sighed again in resignation. Of course, it didn’t mean she couldn’t bed the foolish monk who hid behind the ancient wall. He would appear again in a month, would he not?

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