Page 110 of Silver Angel

“Hello, yourself,” Reggie said impishly. “I was beginning to wonder when you would realize your mistake. You certainly took enough time about it.”

“I am just now wondering if I have in fact made a mistake at all. You don’t look like a mistake. You look very much like something I did right for a change.”

He quietly closed the door and leaned back against it, those beautiful amber eyes boldly moving over her from head to foot. It was not at all safe for a young lady to be alone with a man of his stamp, and Reggie recognized that. Yet for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she wasn’t afraid of this man. Scandalously, she wondered if it would be such a terrible thing to lose her virtue to him. Oh, it was a reckless mood she was suddenly in!

She eyed the closed door and his large frame blocking that only exit. “Fie on you, sir. I hope you don’t mean to compromise me more than you already have.”

“I will if you will let me. Will you? Think carefully before you answer,” he said with a devastating smile. “My heart is in jeopardy.”

She giggled, delighted. “Stuff! Rakes like you don’thavehearts. Everyone knows that.”

Nicholas was enchanted.

Hearts Aflame

Kristen Haardrad has been imprisoned by the Saxon warlord Royce when her shipmates dared to attack Royce’s lands. The Viking maiden has been searching for a man who could stir her senses and make her blood sing, and now she’s finally found him in Royce. So with the full force of her Viking determination she sets out to win the heart and love of her captor.

Kristen had been stretching when she heard the steps crossing the floor, coming from the entrance. She jumped up curiously, her heartbeat quickening when she saw Royce coming out of the shadows, his direction not the stairs, but toward her, straight to her.

She did not move, waiting for him to reach her. His expression was intense, harsh, and her heart beat even faster, not in fear but in expectation. When he stopped, she felt only a moment’s surprise when his hand went to the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her hair to yank her head back. She held her breath as his eyes moved angrily over her face.

“Why do you tempt me so?” He asked this not of her but to himself.

“Do I, milord?”

“You do it apurpose,” he hissed before his mouth slashed down over hers.

Kristen had waited for this, to know the feel of lips, to be able to touch him. She had wanted this to happen, but she had not guessed how devastating the actuality would be. Nothing could have prepared her for such a violent jolt of desire, when she had never felt desire before.

His mouth moved over hers brutally in his anger. He gripped her hair, holding her still for this ravishment, yet he did not touch her otherwise. Kristen was the one to lean into him, until she could feel the full length of his body and know the extent of his desire. This inflamed her more. She didn’t care that this was not what he wanted, that he was kissing her against his own will, and probably hating her more because of it, she wrapped her arms around his back, moving her hands up over the hard muscle there until she gripped his shoulders, holding him tight to her.

She heard him groan at her complete acceptance of him, and his other arm slipped about her waist, crushing her tighter to him. His tongue plunged into her mouth and she drew on it, capturing it like a prize, refusing to let go. God in heaven, this was wonderful, more thrilling than anything she had ever felt before. She would have let him take her there, in the hall, on the table, the floor—she didn’t care. She wanted to make love with him now, before he came to his senses and stopped.

He did stop, and Kristen sighed miserably when his lips left hers. He looked down at her, his eyes fierce, filled half with passion, half with fury. She met his look boldly, but this served only to anger him more.

With a snarl, he shoved her away from him. “My God, you have no shame, do you?”

“I feel no shame in wanting you,” she told him softly. She smiled then at his snort of disbelief. Deliberately, she added in a teasing tone, “You are my heartmate, Royce. Begin to accept it. You will eventually.”

“You will never count me as one of your lovers, wench,” he stated emphatically.

She shrugged, the sigh she gave louder than necessary. “Very well, milord, if that is your wish.”

“Not my wish, the truth,” he insisted. “And you will cease to use your tricks on me.”

Kristen could not help but laugh at this order. “What tricks are those, milord? I am only guilty of looking at you, mayhap more than I should, but I cannot seem to help myself. You are, after all, the most splendid man here.”

He drew in his breath sharply. “God’s mercy, are all Vikings as brazen as you?”

“What you call brazen, I call honesty. Would you rather I lie and say I hate you, that I despise the sight of you?”

“How can you not hate me? I have enslaved you. I keep you shackled and I know you hate the chain. I think you do hate me, that you tempt me apurpose, hoping to have revenge by bewitching me.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I am through telling you what I hope for, through speaking the truth to you when you will not believe it. Think whatever you like.”

She turned her back on him, but was tense, waiting for him to walk away. He did not do so immediately. She imagined he was fighting to control a new fury that she would dare dismiss him like that. She would have been much appeased if she had seen that his eyes had simply moved over her, revealing for one unguarded moment the yearning in his soul.

Once a Princess