Stolen (Royally Hot 1)

I rolled over in his arms to face him. His hair was messy from sleep, his eyes bedroomy and irresistible. Against my thigh, his cock was hard and ready. He pulled me to him for a kiss and I felt the wet rush warm my inner thighs yet again. My muscles sore and spent but my body was still ready for more.

“We could run away,” I suggested as he released me from the kiss. “Take me away from this place. A priest who doesn’t know my family would marry us.”

He smiled but in his eyes there was darkness. “No. Your father may not approve, but he isn’t the law. If I want to marry you, I’ll marry you, I do not need his approval.”

“Do not kill anyone, Bors. They will take you from me…”

I hesitated, seeing the look on his face, the tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You already know what you will do, don’t you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes, and he nodded, the grin spreading. “So tell me…please.”

“We will hold our ground. We will stay here. We will make a life here. I will make you my bride here and take pleasure in watching your father’s helpless anger, but you will be mine. Here, in this village, for everyone to know. We will not run, we will not cower.”

I laughed, shaking my head, sure he knew something I didn’t but still unable to see past the huge obstacle that was my father. “But how? I told you, the priest will never marry us. Not without his agreement, not while he lives to stand in our way. It’s a fool’s hope.”

Bors came up on one elbow and I sank down into the pillows, gazing up at him.

“Your father might object, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve traveled far and wide, Sara. I’m owed a favor or two by those I’ve helped, and priests aren’t above getting themselves into difficulties that can’t be solved by prayer alone. A day’s ride will bring me to Gowerton, just over the border into Johnston land. There’s a priest there who owes me his life, and he isn’t beholden to Clan Mackay if anyone should go making a fuss. Once he marries us, there’s nothing anyone, including your father, can do about it. God’s law trumps man’s law.”

“Then let’s go. We will go together and marry there,” I declared, but he shook his head.

“There’s tension on the border. You were caught in the middle of some of it just yesterday. The clans are making like friends, but they’re ready for war, and our enemies would like nothing more than to get their hands on one of our pretty young maids. Riding alone, I can cover the distance quickly and avoid any Clan Johnston patrols.”

“No, I don’t want you to go without me.”

He pulled me closer and held me tight. “It’s two days’ sacrifice, three at the most, for a lifetime’s happiness,” he said. “Angelica will keep you safe while I’m gone.”

Even one day away from him seemed unbearable. I placed my palm to his chest and gazed up at him, admiring the strong angle of his jaw. Tears pricked at my lower lids.

“Do not cry, my sweet Sara. I cannot risk your safety ever. I’ll be back before you know it, and when I come we’ll be married that day.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Wait for me here. With God as witness, I will return for you.”

With a heart clutched with worry and dread, I spent that morning helping him pack his things and saddle his horse, and as he kissed me goodbye on the front porch of the little cottage, he slipped his hunting knife into my hand.

“Keep this close.”

I nodded. “Come back to me.”.

“You’re my home,” he said, gazing down, making me woozy with the flickering lust in his dark eyes. “You are where I belong.”

After one more lingering kiss, he mounted his chestnut stallion, and I watched him ride down the King’s Highway, tears spilling onto my cheeks in hot rivers, terrified that I had found someone so magical, so perfect, and that I very well may never see him again.

Sara

I waited at Angelica’s for Bors to return, as promised. The moments passed slowly, and I went to the window over and over, watching for him, knowing that it was too soon yet for his arrival.

“I promise you, he’s riding hell-for-leather to get back to you,” Angelica said, looking me up and down with an expression halfway between amusement and adoration.

She sat at the big pine table in the center of the kitchen, bundles of dried herbs and plants around her ready to be made into poultices and other medicinal potions and salves. On the hob above the fire simmered something in an iron pot, bubbling up with steam, making the room smell of lavender and sage.