She was an angel. Nay, he corrected as he continued to stare at the eyes that were too fierce, the jaw too square, the hair too dark. Not an angel. Something more fey—a sprite. Accustomed to the fleshy, languorous women at court, he found this lass’s exotic looks as refreshing as a dip in a cool loch.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She looked the way he’d made women look many a time in his bed—hair spilled carelessly, lips a-quiver, cheeks flushed—and he longed to caress that fine-boned cheek, run his fingers through those too dark, tangled tresses, kiss that spot on her neck where her pulse visibly raced.
The wench was glaring at him with those cut-crystal eyes, and he was amazed to see her defiance falter only infinitesimally beneath his regard, a thorough scrutiny that usually made his foes tremble.
She reminded him of a wildcat he’d seen once on his travels through the moors, one caught in an abandoned snare. Before he’d cut the animal free, it had looked at him just this way—frightened, hateful, suspicious. He suddenly had an absurd longing to remove the pain from the liquid pools of her eyes as he’d done for the wildcat.
Ariel nickered softly beneath him and stamped an impatient hoof, jarring him back to reality. Damn, he thought, shaking off his insipid dreaming with a toss of his head. This new life of lordly leisure was making him soft.
He frowned into the girl’s face. Then his gaze dropped lower. Her body strained against the thin linen of her gown, and he could clearly see a perverse crimson streak across her fair breast.
Desire fled, replaced by outrage. He snarled at Roger, “Have you taken to attacking innocents?”
Roger answered belligerently. “It’s not her blood, my lord. It’s that of her traitor father, Laird Angus. But this ‘innocent’ wounded two of my men!”
Holden snorted in disbelief. A wee Border lass was hardly capable of intimidating the formidable de Ware knights. He looked dubiously down at her again to see if he’d overlooked something. He was sorry it was the sprite’s father who had died, but if the laird was a traitor, it would only have been a matter of time before he was executed for his treachery. Perhaps it was better he’d died nobly, with a sword in his hand.
“Who is your father’s successor, lass?” he asked her quietly.
The girl lifted her chin bravely and replied, “I am.”
He should have guessed. “And your husband?”
“I have no husband.”
“Your betrothed?”
“I have no betrothed. I am…the Gavin.” Her voice broke as she said it. He could see she was fighting back tears.
Several of his men smirked at the notion of a young woman claiming a castle. But he knew there was nothing odd about that for the Scots. He stared at the girl with a mixture of pity and disgust at the laird’s foolishness in leaving his daughter unmarried and, therefore, unprotected. He swore he’d never understand the Scots’ ways.
“I’ll spare your life,” he told her, “if you swear fealty to me.”
To his amazement, the girl fixed him with a jewel-hard stare and shook her head firmly once. “Even now the castle is being surrounded by the king’s army,” she proclaimed. “You won’t escape alive.”
“Lass,” a burly old Gavin man called from the corner, but his captor jerked his chain, ordering him to silence.
He scowled down at the girl and held up a hand to quiet his men’s snickering. “The king…Edward’s army?”
“Aye!” she hissed, her eyes sparking like sapphires. “Lord Holden de Ware will slay you for the murder you’ve committed! He is a powerful warrior, known to all as the Wolf for his savagery, and he has sworn to protect this keep!”
He stared at her, stunned. Her eyes gleamed with victory, and the thrust of her chin was confident and proud. He almost hated to dash her hopes.
But he had to.
He held her gaze with his own and explained softly, “I am the Wolf. I am Lord Holden de Ware.”
About The Author
Born in Paradise, California, Glynnis Campbell has embraced her inner Gemini by leading an eclectic life. As a teen, she danced with the Sacramento Ballet, worked in her father’s graphic arts studio, and composed music for award-winning science films. She sang arias in college, graduating with a degree in Music, then toured with The Pinups, an all-girl rock band on CBS Records. She once played drums for a Tom Jones video and is currently a voice-over actress with credits including “Star Wars” audio adventures, JumpStart educational CDs, Diablo and Starcraft video games, and the MTV animated series, “The Maxx.” She now indulges her lifelong love of towering castles, trusty swords, and knights (and damsels) in shining armor by writing historical romances featuring kick-arse heroines. She is married to a rock star, is the proud mom of two grown-up nerds, and lives in a part of L.A. where nobody thinks she’s weird.
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My Warrior
(Knights of de Ware, Book 2)
My Hero
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Lady Danger
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Captive Heart
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Knight’s Prize
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Danger’s Kiss
Passion’s Exile
The Shipwreck
Native Gold
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