Medieval 02 - Forbidden

sun that doesn’t know summer has fled. Is that such a harsh fate?”
    “Only if Erik discovers it.”
    “If the squire is half as clever as he is lazy, he won’t tell Erik that he fell asleep.”
    “If Egbert were that clever, he wouldn’t be that lazy.”
    Duncan gave a crack of laughter and tightened his right arm around Amber’s supple waist. His left arm held the reins. Amber’s hands rested on his arms as though she enjoyed the simple warmth of his body.
    “In any case, we left your mount with him,” Amber said. “And instructions to wait for us.”
    “Are you certain the lad can read?”
    “Better than he can write, according to Cassandra.”
    “Does he write?” Duncan asked, surprised.
    “Badly. Erik despairs of ever making him skilled enough to tally a keep’s crops, animals, and taxes.”
    “Then why doesn’t he send the boy back to his father?”
    “Egbert has none,” Amber said. “Erik found him by a cart road. His father had been killed by a falling tree.”
    “Does Erik make it a habit to pick up and care for stray people?”
    “If they can’t care for themselves, someone must.”
    “Is that why you cared for me?” Duncan asked. “Duty and compassion?”
    “Nay.”
    Amber remembered what it had felt like when she first touched Duncan, a pleasure so great it shocked her into snatching her hand back. Then she had touched him again.
    And lost her heart.
    “It was different with you,” Amber said in a low voice. “Touching you pleased me.”
    “Does it please you still?”
    A telltale wash of color across her cheeks silently answered Duncan’s question.
    “I’m glad,” he said. “Very, very glad.”
    With subtle pressures of his arms, Duncan gathered Amber even closer to his body. The hunger for her that was never far beneath his thoughts flooded his body with anticipation, even as his conscience railed him.
    He shouldn’t seduce her until he had more answers to the dark questions from his past.
    Unknown vows haunted him.
    And yet…and yet.
    It was surpassingly sweet to ride through an autumn land with slanting yellow sunlight warming his face and an amber fairy relaxed within the circle of his arms.
    “The sun,” Amber murmured. “What an unexpected glory.”
    She lifted her arms and pushed the wool cowl from her head. The indigo cloth fell in folds over her nape and shoulders, allowing the gentle golden warmth of the sun to bathe her.
    “Aye,” Duncan said. “It is indeed glorious.”
    But it was Amber rather than the sunlight that Duncan praised.
    “Your hair,” he murmured. “’Tis a thousand shades of golden light. I’ve seen nothing more beautiful.”
    Amber’s breath caught as a fine shiver went over her body. The hunger in Duncan summoned her. She wanted nothing more than to pull his strength around her like a living mantle, shutting out the world, giving herself to him in a secret silence that no other person could violate.
    Yet she must not give herself to him.
    Heart and body and soul .
    “Amber,” Duncan whispered.
    “Yes?” she said, stilling a shiver of response.
    “Nothing. I simply like whispering your name against your bright hair.”
    Pleasure expanded through Amber. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to touch Duncan’s cheek. The faintly rough texture of his skin where beard lay just beneath the surface pleased her. The strength of his arm around her waist pleased her. The heat and resilience of his chest pleased her.
    Duncan pleased her to the center of her soul.
    “There is no man like you.”
    Amber didn’t know she had spoken the thought aloud until she felt a tremor ripple through Duncan’s strength.
    “Nor is there a woman to equal you,” he whispered as he kissed the palm of her hand.
    When Duncan bent to put his cheek against Amber’s hair, the delicate scent of sunlight and evergreens swept through him. She smelled of summer and warmth, of Scots pine and a clean wind.
    The fragrance was uniquely Amber. He could not get enough of it.
    Amber heard the hesitation in Duncan’s breathing, sensed the piercing pleasure that he took from her simple presence, and longed to be free of prophecy.
    But she was not.
    “A pity the warmth won’t last,” Amber said raggedly.
    Duncan made a questioning sound as he nuzzled a wisp of hair that lay against her neck.
    “Erik was right,” she said, her voice quick, almost frightened. “A storm is coming. But it simply serves to make the sunlight more precious.”
    Reluctantly