Sandra Jones

She wanted to savor him slowly like a lemon cream pie on a lazy summer day. One bite at a time.

Her eyes narrowed with feigned disgust. "I cannot walk backwards anymore! I'm too afraid you'll run me into something." He released one of her hands and reached around her, to cup her firm behind. "Trust me. I'd never risk hurting your backside.

Mon dieu. I cannot leave without tasting your lips once more." She read the question in his hooded gaze. She would not let him leave, of course, but allowing him a kiss seemed a reasonable consolation after saving her life. Especially as she wanted it , too. Longed for it. She put her hand behind his neck, mimicking him, and threaded her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. "Take your kiss, my lord.

Warning: Contains a Norman warrior with a thirst for justice, a Welsh rebel princess with second sight and a steady bow hand, magical prophecies, and a plot of royal proportions.

He lifted his head, staring into her eyes as if searching for something. Voice ragged, he said, "I told you I'm a possessive man, Eleri. I want to keep you, mount you, fill you, but even as I hold you like this... I am still your captive. Have mercy and tell me you'll have me.

What have you to trade for my silence?" ... He opened his mouth to beckon the men, but Eleri moved like lightning. With her right arm restrained, she couldn't cut him. However, her weapon of choice caught him completely off-guard. Her lips sealed to his, cutting off his voice in a hard kiss... Bracing his back against the gnarled tree branches, he relaxed for more, but the kiss ended as briskly as it had begun.... Blood surging through his body, Warren grinned and lowered his face over hers. "Not the price I had in mind, but...um, shall we see what else you have to offer?

The only death I fear is the one I fell when we're apart.

Lulled into complacency, one of the brigands' hands loosened on his arm, and Warren had his chance. Breaking free, he grabbed a handful of Red's braids and tangled his fingers in the silky plaited coils. She cried out, flailing her arms, but he dragged her against him as he fell backward, pulling her down on top of him. The warriors' retaliation was prompt...

His gaze lowered to her breasts, scalding her with the intensity of his stare. "At this moment, I'm exceedingly glad I'm no longer a monk.

You've always done as you pleased, Princess. I can't change you, nor do I want to. You're strong, a fighter. And I've never wanted another woman as I want you.

I'll kiss your feet if you'd scratch my nose.

To secure his king's trust, his family's future, and perhaps even his own happiness, he needed to convince her he was more than a mercenary -- in fact, a man who would stand by her side.