Kenna dreads her husband's homecoming like the plague. The man she married is vile and cruel. She has prayed every day of his absence he would be killed in the fighting, freeing her from a life of brutal torment and a loveless marriage. But the man on her doorstep has changed. This man is kind, gentle and sparks a fire in her she never felt in the early days of her marriage.
Ty is returning home after years fighting in France. He yearns for the arms of his beautiful wife and to finally meet the daughter he has never known. But can Kenna forgive the man she married and love the man he has become?
Kenna curled her lip as she drew closer. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that he was someone else. Anyone else. Old Angus the pig farmer would have been better. Ty’s warm breath made her want to retch, not that it was unpleasant. The scent of cinnamon wafted up to her as his lips touched hers.
She expected the sudden urge to heave, not the fiery jolt that shocked her right down to her toes. Her body tingled all over, but her mouth…
Her lips parted seemingly of their own free will. The instant they did, Ty plunged his tongue inside. The courtyard disappeared, leaving them alone even though the bailey still teemed with people. Kenna kept her fists clenched at her sides. Ty’s grip on her upper arms was firm, but not painful. He pulled her closer still until her breasts pressed against his chest. A groan rumbled from deep inside him, vibrating against her own pounding heart.
Kenna let her eyes slide open to be sure it was him, stunned at the emotions roiling within her. His lips were soft, his tongue like velvet gliding across hers. Her breath caught in her throat as excitement threatened to overwhelm her. She was a young girl again, experiencing her first kiss.
But this man was not Gavin. She was not lying amongst the heather in a field overlooking her father’s lands. She was at Castle Vass, a veritable prisoner in her enemy’s lair. The last time Ty Vass had touched her, there had been no hint of tenderness, only pain and humiliation. He had left her scarred, both inside and out, with a longing to end her life. She might have done just that if not for the baby.
The thought of Isla jolted her back to her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull back from him. To her utter surprise, he let her, keeping a tight hold on her until she remained steady on her feet. She stared at him, unable to read his thoughts but startled by the raw passion in his expression.
That was a look she knew well. The look of her husband overcome with lust and eager to take what he wanted, by force if at all possible. It had haunted her dreams and led her to the parapets more than once. How many times had she stared at the ground from the top of the castle’s tallest tower and wondered how much it would hurt when she hit the ground?
Hoping to distract him before he kissed her again, she asked, “How did you lose your eye?” Her voice shook with trepidation.
Ty shrugged and reached up to touch the black patch that covered his injury. “Battle scars, a ghrá.” He lifted his hand to her face.
She instinctively drew away, regretting it almost immediately. He had trained her well not to pull away from him, but to suffer his abuse unless she wanted it intensified.
He smiled sadly and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “Ye need not fear me, Kenna.”
We are a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.
Copyright 2012 Bourdeilles Books. All rights reserved.