She had high hopes that their youngest child would also be blessed with the gifts of the Maje.
To Jarrett’s chagrin, his son also possessed the ability to read his mind. He was proud of his children’s gifts, happy, for Leyla’s sake, that the blood of the Maje ran strong in their veins, though there were times when he wasn’t sure it was such a blessing, having a son who knew what he was thinking. Slowly, though, Jarrett was learning how to shield his thoughts, how to erect mental barriers the boy couldn’t breach.
Now, watching as his family walked down the narrow, flower-lined path that led into the castle, Jarrett was filled with a deep and abiding sense of peace.
The horrors of the Pavilion had faded. The nightmares that had once haunted his dreams troubled him no more, kept at bay by the love of a silver-haired woman whose gentle hands and warm smile had the power to banish all his ghosts. All he had ever wanted, all he would ever want, lived here, within the high gray stone walls of Greyebridge Castle.
He heard the sound of his daughter’s voice in the hallway, begging Leyla to tell her the story of the goddess Judeau. He heard Leyla’s gentle reply as she told Dorrinda to go along with her grandmother, promising to tell the story another time, and then Leyla entered their bedroom.
She had grown more lovely with the passing of each year, Jarrett thought. The blue of her gown deepened the color of her eyes. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves of silver, shimmering like moonlight on a starlit sea.
“So, I have found thee at last,” she said, closing the door behind her. “What is thee doing in here, all alone?”
His heart quickened at the sound of her voice. “Alone no longer.” He glanced at the closed door, one black brow lifting in question.
“I was missing thee,” she explained, moving into his arms. “Thy mother and Tannya have taken the children to the nursery.” Her cheeks pinkened. “They promised to keep them entertained for an hour or two.”
“I see.” His palms slid down her arms, his thumbs lightly stroking the curve of her breasts before his hands settled around her waist. “Was there something you wanted?”
“Indeed.” She tilted her head back, the better to see his face. “Varrinia Sudaan is near three months old.”
Jarrett nodded. He was well aware of his daughter’s age. The birth had not been easy on Leyla. The long weeks of abstinence had been difficult for them both.
“I thought…” Her flush deepened, and Jarrett grinned. Her shyness charmed him, the eager light in her eyes sparked his desire.
“Thought what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
He was teasing her! With studied nonchalance, she moved toward the door. “Nothing. I’ve changed my mind.”
A low growl erupted in Jarrett’s throat. Heat flared in his eyes and his hands tightened on her waist as he drew her up against him, pressing her length to his so that she could feel the sudden pulsing need that pounded through him.
“It has been a long three months,” he declared, his voice husky with desire. “But I would wait another three months rather than hurt you. Are you sure it’s safe?”
She gazed deep into his eyes, her expression one of love and longing. “Quite sure, my Lord Jarrett.”
“Leyla.”
She felt her breath catch in her throat as he lowered his head, blocking everything from her sight, her mind, save the face of the man she loved above all else.
She kept her eyes open as he kissed her, wanting to see the fires of desire dance in his beautiful green eyes.
Without taking his lips from hers, Jarrett whispered her name, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue like molten flame as it found her own. Her legs seemed suddenly weak, and she clung to his broad shoulders as desire unfolded within her, layer upon layer, like the petals of a midnight flower opening to receive the kiss of the moon.
His hands were urgent as he undressed her, his eyes like burning emeralds as his gaze swept over her. She tugged at his clothing, hungry for the touch of his flesh against her own, and then he was carrying her to the huge canopied bed, pressing her down upon the soft feather mattress.
And all the while he murmured her name, telling her that he loved her more than his next breath, and she knew she would ask no more of life than to live and die in his arms. He was everything to her, fierce warrior, loving father to her children, loyal protector. Husband.
His hands and lips caressed her until her world was filled with his touch, his scent, his magic. Loved and beloved, for this moment in time there was nothing in the world but the two of them, linked heart to heart and soul to soul.
Later, as he kissed her cheek and held her close, Leyla realized how blessed she had been that day when two strangers kidnapped her and carried her beyond the Mountains of the Blue Mist into a filthy dungeon to heal a proud Gweneth warrior with hair as dark as liquid ebony and eyes the color of new grass.
“My Lord Pirate,” she murmured, a smile of utter contentment curving her lips. “My Lord Jarrett.*
Lying there, with Leyla cradled in his arms, Jarrett listened to the sounds of happy laughter echoing from the nursery. In time, his son would rule Greyebridge, and his son’s sons.
Bestowing a kiss on Leyla’s cheek, he prayed that their children would find the same happiness within the sheltering stone walls of Greyebridge Castle that he had found.
About Amanda Ashley
Amanda Ashley is one of those rare birds—a California native. She’s lived in Southern California her whole life and loves it. She married her high school sweetheart and they have three sons, all handsome enough to be cover models!
Amanda never intended to be a published author. It just happened. She has always loved to read, though. The Black Stallion books, Nancy Drew, Mary Stewart. And then she discovered romance novels. One night when her husband was at work, her kids were in bed and there was nothing on TV, she sat down and started writing a book of her own. And she’s been writing ever since.
Amanda and her alter ego, Madeline Baker, have written over seventy books, many of which have appeared on various bestseller lists, including the New York Times list, the Waldenbooks Bestseller list, and the USA Today list. Not bad for someone who started writing just for the fun of it.
Warrior’s Lady Copyright © 1993, 2012, 2016 Amanda Ashley
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