Warrior's Dawn (Fire and Tears) (28 page)

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Darkness of Glengowyn:

Removing a final stray pin, she set it with the others, rubbed her fingers across her head, then reached for the strap of leather holding the end of her braid. She jumped when she felt Einar’s hands on her shoulders.

The sensation, both familiar and new after all this time, sent a tremor of heat through her belly. With only that brief contact, she could already feel the
Shaerta
rising. Her nerves danced. She drew in a deep breath, absorbing Einar’s scent, and the heat in her stomach spread through her abdomen to her core.

Turning to face him just then would destroy what little resistance she had, so she kept her body motionless, her gaze on the street.

He skimmed his hands down the length of her arms, leaving a hot chill along her skin and forcing her hands down to her sides. Then he leaned in and said against her ear, “Allow me.”

She wanted to melt into him but couldn’t manage any movement, closer or away. He released her wrists and shifted to her braid, untying the leather strap, then slowly separating the strands.

Heart pounding, Nuala closed her eyes, the wash of sensation from having his hands on her overwhelming and perfect. She concentrated on the play of his fingers up her braid, the gentle run of his palms over and through the strands, the heavy fall of weight when her hair was fully freed of its confines, and the merciless thrill of him brushing her hair, his fingers threading over her scalp, pulling the thick locks away from her face. She tilted her head back at his urging, giving him access to better massage her temples. Without realizing she would, she groaned.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice low and deep. “The feel of your hair, your skin.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she admitted, despite her best intentions. “I’ve felt…half of myself for a long time now.”

His grip tightened at her admission. Then he released her, and Nuala wanted to cry, knowing he would continue to resist where she could not.

An instant later, she was facing him, his hands tight on her shoulders. His dark eyes sparked in the early morning light, his expression more animated, more desperate than anything she’d ever seen him reveal. Before she could absorb the full impact, his mouth was on hers, firm, strong and so heartbreakingly gentle her entire body relaxed into him.

Einar. After all this time. To taste him again was beyond exquisite, beyond joy. She had no way to put into words the sensation that enveloped her except that it felt like her world finally settled into place and became real.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, holding her near as his kiss deepened. Still controlled, still luxurious, as if they had all the time in the world for just this kiss. Gripping his waist, she followed him into that place, her tongue brushing and swirling around his, a delicate duel no one would suspect the Darkness capable of. Most thought him hard, emotionless, cold.

She knew better. He was all heat and warmth and emotion. With her, he was passion. And she was free.

Their kiss heated slowly, perfectly. Destroying her and renewing her with each play of lips against lips. He slipped his hands from her face to her waist, snugging her tightly to his body. The press of her breasts against the thick expanse of muscles along his chest weakened her knees. The feel of his cock already hard against her abdomen thrilled her on a deep level. Suddenly all she wanted was the heat of his skin, naked against hers, so she could explore this body she’d been denied for too long.

The
Shaerta
raged through her, heightening her every sense. That underlying musky scent that was Einar filled her head. The touch of his hands, strong on her waist, branded her. The heat of his cock warmed her through her clothes as if there was no barrier between them. And still his kiss was deliberately languorous, deliciously tempting.

Tension flexed his muscles, a tightness echoing her building passion, yet she couldn’t rush this reunion any more than he could.

So long, so much time wasted. The reason for their separation no longer seemed to make sense. Not when they had this. Not when she loved him so very much.

Without allowing any space between them, Einar edged her back toward the bed. She followed his lead, step by step, floating over the dust-covered wood in moments and hours. Her legs touched the mattress and she dropped back, dragging him with her. The drop made them bounce, and despite everything, Nuala giggled.

Einar lifted enough to look down at her, his expression beautifully open. A small smile tugged at his lips, the stone mask he normally wore gone to reveal a tenderness only she was allowed to see.

Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, too touched for words, too happy for regrets.

They would deal with the aftermath of this day soon enough. Now, having him inside her was as vital to her as water and air. More powerful than magic.

With the
Shaerta
riding her, she embraced the consequences, tugging his mouth back to hers.

Within a body strong as stone beats a heart ready for love.

Born of Stone

© 2014 Missy Jane

Gargoyle Masters, Book 1

For seventy years, Orestes and his twelve gargoyle brothers have done their duty to protect King Kadmos’s realm. There’s only one annoyance in his life—humans.

He’s content to leave them to their idol worship. Until he notices a small, frail woman serving at his table, doing her best to remain invisible. Something about her calls to him like no human before.

Astrid is terrified. Not only of the powerful magical creature with inhuman strength, but of the staff overseer’s lash for calling attention to herself. Instead she is whisked away to paradise, bathed, fed, and made love to by Orestes as if she is his reason to live. But she isn’t naïve enough to believe she is anything more than a temporary diversion.

When Orestes is called away to search for a missing brother, Astrid is kidnapped by a traitor intent on using her to bend Orestes to his will. Little do the lovers know that the connection between them is no weakness, but a strength their enemies would be fools to underestimate…

Warning: This book contains paranormal fighting, steamy sex scenes, strong-willed females, and men made of stone who prove to be soft as butter in the right woman’s hands.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Born of Stone:

Astrid had never been anywhere in the castle but the kitchen and dining room. As Orestes climbed the massive staircase, she couldn’t help but look around in awe. Large, beautifully woven tapestries lined the walls, depicting knights in battle with all manner of vile creatures.

“Do you like them?”

His deep voice didn’t startle her this time and she thought it would be rude not to answer. She had to clear her throat twice.

“They’re beautiful.”

He raised his head and looked around as if noticing the tapestries for the first time. They had bypassed the second landing and made it to the third before he moved away from the stairs to walk down a long hallway. Wooden doors lined both sides of the hall, each intricately carved in various designs. Astrid barely had the chance to look around before Orestes pushed open a door and strode inside. The room was pitch black, but he seemed to have no trouble navigating his way through as he walked deeper inside. Astrid gasped and clung to his shirt when he leaned down and gently placed her on a soft surface.

“If you don’t let go, I can’t light the fire.”

Amusement was unmistakable in his voice and Astrid released his shirt in annoyance. She sat up on what she assumed was his bed while his shadowed form moved away from her and back toward the door.

“Is this your room?” she asked.

He closed the door and she tried to ignore her spark of fear at hearing the lock turn. She would never have expected to find herself lying in one of the Master’s beds, locked in his room for some unknown purpose. Whether he truly meant to tend to her wounds she didn’t know, but running seemed impossible now.

He moved silently around the room and she couldn’t see even a hint of him. Then a hiss sounded a few feet away and she had to close her eyes against the abrupt glow of flame. He stood, a dark silhouette against the bright flames in his large stone fireplace.

“Yes, this is my room. Do you like it?”

His voice seemed deeper, more intimate, as he slowly made his way back to her. She swallowed and looked up, but the light behind him left his face in shadows and hid his expression.

“Um, yes. Yes it’s, uh…very nice.”

He chuckled and turned away from her, removing the long, dark leather coat he seemed to prefer. She realized why when he slipped it off his broad shoulders, revealing multiple weapons. Astrid was about to pull her legs into a more comfortable position when she noticed the dirt caked on them. Shame burned through her, heating her cheeks as she quickly moved to the side of the bed and slipped off.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Orestes was suddenly at her side. For such a large man, he moved quickly and almost silently. Astrid gasped and took a step back from him.

“My feet. They’re too dirty for your nice bed.”

Annoyance flashed across his expression but at least it wasn’t anger. Astrid realized she was growing comfortable in his presence—a dangerous habit to be sure. Still, when he ran a hand down his face and wariness filled his gaze, she couldn’t help but feel better.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said, before stalking out of the room.

She looked at the closed door in indecision. He obviously expected her to stay put and hadn’t threatened her in any way thus far. Should she await his return? Doubts filled her and she shivered as cold from the stone floor raced up her legs. The warm glow of the fire called to her and Astrid went willingly. As she crossed the vast space from his bed to fireplace, she noticed Orestes’s room was much larger than she had realized. Additional large tapestries lined the walls and various furs covered most of the floor.

His massive bed could easily sleep six people, even with the large man in the middle. That image sent a surge of jealousy racing through her and she shook her head at her ridiculousness. The Masters belonged to no women, especially human women. It was said they left the realm to bed the race of warrior women in Keva when the mood took them. The journey to the neighboring realm went from a ten-day journey to a matter of hours once the gargoyles spread their wings. Astrid shuddered at the thought. She’d only seen a gargoyle in flight once and it had been an awesome sight. It still amazed her how their wings disappeared when they took human form.

Aside from his bed, the only other furniture in the room was a wardrobe and desk. There was also a large chest at the foot of his bed, big enough for a human to fit inside. Astrid frowned and looked away from it. Her eyes landed on a desk piled high with books. She’d heard a servant mention a library somewhere in the castle. Astrid had taught herself to read simple words over the years and longed to own just one book. She’d secretly hoped she would be assigned to dust the library so she could at least look at them. Faced with the bounty on Orestes’s desk, she couldn’t help but wander over and stare in fascination at the stack. It reached her chin and hid, a closer inspection revealed, a similar stack behind it. She reached a shaky hand to touch the top book when Orestes’s voice sounded in her ear.

“You know how to read?”

She screamed and leapt away, hitting her hip against the desk hard enough to send both stacks of books tumbling down.

“Oh no.”

Astrid was nearly in tears over the mess she’d made and threw herself on the floor, grabbing books and stacking them as quickly as she could in an effort to clean the mess. She felt more than heard Orestes bend down beside her, but rather than help, he gently grabbed her wrists.

“Stop, lady. Don’t fret over this.”

Her head snapped up and she tried to pull from his grasp. He released her and she moved back, falling on her bottom in her effort to get out of his reach.

“I’m sorry, my lord. I’m so sorry.”

“Please, just stop.” He released a breath and swiped the books out of his way, crawling toward her while she continued to slide back. She reached the wall and shut her eyes, throwing her arms over her head.

“No. Don’t do that again. How can I convince you that I mean you no harm?”

The exasperation in his voice finally penetrated her fear and Astrid lowered her arms slowly. He was sitting back on his legs, a whisper away, staring down at her with concern. When he realized she was watching, he reached out and gently moved her arms down.

“What is your name?”

She swallowed her fear and answered in a whisper, “Astrid.”

His eyebrows shot up and a sudden grin made him even more handsome. “Astrid? How about that? Tell me, my little star, how did you come to be in my home?”

She opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. What should she tell him about the hardships of her life? Would he really care? He frowned at her hesitation before sighing and leaning back. She closed her still-gaping mouth while he stood and reached for her.

“Come. I’ve arranged a bath for you.”