Jackie Ivie here, with an exclusive excerpt just for RomCon from my newest Scot historical novel! A Perfect Knight for Love is available from Kensington - Zebra Historical, September 4th!!
EXCERPT – A Perfect Knight for Love
“Life or death, lass! Doona’ you ken anything?”
He hissed it in her ear, sending heat that created shivers. And threat of more. The clamp of his fingers indicated how much more. As did how he’d shifted to an elbow, putting himself above her and in a position to make certain she understood. That was before she factored in where he’d put his leg, holding her in place with a limb so heavy the pulse thumping through her had moved to her upper thighs.
Amalie nodded quickly and viciously.
“I’m moving my hand. Nae sound. Agreed?” He whispered it, making it infinitely worse as more shiver accompanied his breath.
“I’m trusting you. God help me.”
He lifted his hand. Amalie watched his eyes.
She’d specifically noted their blue-green color since he was forever putting her into a close range when she felt the most awkward, but she hadn’t factored in how thickly lashed they were. Nor how well-formed. Capable of holding her gaze with a look that created a riot of more shivers that flew all over her, centering with horrid accuracy at each breast tip. Again. She watched him flick a gaze to her lips and then her bosom as if he knew! Exactly where and what!
Amalie had to look away. And quickly. She fixed her sight on the flap of stretched skin above them where the animal’s head had once been. She was still watching it when Thayne looked back at her face. She didn’t have to check. She knew. It was in the heightened rate of his heartbeat next to her arm, the stronger huffs of breath, and the stir of something at her hip where his groin pressed against her. All of which was more barbaric and crude than before. And then her entire frame made it worse as she spasmed oddly right up against him.
The immediate reaction was a responding lunge against her and then a huffed breath across the bridge of her nose. He lowered his head again to her ear. “You doona’ ken the least in orders, wife, but you’re fain bonny. And gifted. I’ll say that for you.” Amalie went stiff as what had to be his tongue finished the whispered words. She jerked away and then endured a chuckle that caused worse tremors atop the wetness he’d tongued into place. All of it because she had no choice. He was practically astride her as if it were normal and acceptable – and with an infant beside them!
Amalie felt the babe settle back into slumber as if that was also accepted and normal and comfortable, too.
Well…how was she to know? She hadn’t anyone to ask. She’d always shied away from imagining close physical contact with a man. She knew instinctively it wouldn’t have helped. She couldn’t have known what to imagine. Right here in this copse, in the open and surrounded by more men than she dared count, this Thayne fellow obliterated everything. Not only was he more male than any woman should have to deal with, but he knew it. He also knew how to use it. On unsuspecting females. And to a punishing level.
“I almost doona’ miss my freedom.”
Her intake of air didn’t have much impact although it moved the babe slightly. She felt Thayne’s lips moving along her cheek…toward her mouth. To kiss her again? Without one bit of asking? The most horrid quiver started as if in accompaniment, making everything spin and whirl.
“Leastways, to the degree I should.”
Lying in his arms wasn’t gaining Amalie a thing. And soon, it was going to reap worse. She could tell as fingers spread about what was left of her skirts, gathering petticoat-depleted cloth about one side and lifting her, matching her fully against his loins. Her eyes flew wide and her trembling worsened. That just made the limbs holding her harder and tighter as a tremor scored him. It was impossible not to see goose bumps as they lifted the opaque white fabric from his skin.
“St-stop! Please…stop!” The squeak was barely audible at first.
“Say something to match your frame.” His voice was accompanied by a slide of motion as he bowed above her and maneuvered further between the sensitive skin of her thighs.
“Nae,” he responded. “I’ll scream! I will!” The huffed words had fright and shock at their core. And somehow that stopped him.
“I swear…I will!” “You prefer death?” Thayne’s whisper was harsh as he lowered back onto his side on the blanket bed, somehow keeping their loins connected. Amalie’s eyes went so wide it pained. She didn’t dare blink as he looked down at her. There wasn’t a hue of any kind to be seen as he gazed at her for long moments while his heartbeat continued to pound against her belly. Swift. Strong. Relentless.
“You doona’ wish this?”
“N-no.” The whisper was hers but it was choked-sounding. It didn’t sound like a refusal at all. It sounded eager…and breathless. “Truly?” “Tru…ly.” “Why did you tell them we wed, then?” he asked.
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