“She surveyed the contents of the basket at her side, trying to decide what else she would need for her salad. Celery herb, crowberry, parsley, sweet violet… stolen kisses. She mopped her forehead with the back of her palm and tried to think of anything else but the feel of Tristan’s arms around her, the salacious strokes of his tongue marauding her mouth, the rigid measure of his arousal against her… She coughed into her hand and looked around, mortified by her thoughts. Her eyes found him inst...antly. He stood beside Patrick, his blade outstretched before him while he gave her brothers their first lesson in sword fighting. How could she have let him kiss her so passionately yet again? Unable to look away, she let her gaze absorb the powerful play of muscle beneath his snug breeches as he lunged forward at an unseen opponent, the vigor of his thrust as he jabbed the air with his blade. She marveled at his speed and at his patience when John dropped his heavy sword twice. How easily he could turn his weapon on them all, cut them to bits because of the uncle they’d taken from him—the uncle who had taught him tales of another age when men of honor were not so rare.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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