On second thought, Cecily probably wouldn’t be wearing anything at all under her skirt. She was famous for her shock tactics around men; that’s why they all loved her so much. She would have called Cecily and asked her what to do, but she was at one of the Double Bs private auctions, dealing in vintage rock memorabilia and was probably being swarmed by hot musicians, having the time of her life.
Taking a bracing breath she gathered her courage, and checked her makeup once more. Her smoky charcoal shadow brushed lightly over her lids, making her blue eyes appear even bluer in the dim light.
Lifting up her Mac makeup brush she dusted her face with shimmering powder over her face to even out her skin tone and then swiped red lip lacquer over her lips. Crinkling her brow, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.
Something was off aside from her makeup her look was more bohemian than casual elegance. Reaching up she lifted her hair off her neck. That was it, her hair looked too “free love” down. She walked back to her beloved Louis Vuitton (one of the reasons she could not afford Spanxs), took a long silver clip out, and threw her hair up in a loose twist. She pulled some wispy pieces out to frame her face and undid another button on her blouse, exposing a hint of her lacy camisole. She smiled at herself in the mirror.
Now she looked… perfect.
Throwing caution to the wind
AGE OF CHIVALRY * THE GLEN
MARGUERITE pressed her hands over the front of her naked body as she sprinted from the water. She crouched down and quickly grabbed a clean chemise and gown from the folds of her cloak. She tugged the chemise over her head. The fabric clung to her damp skin. At least her gown was warm and clean. She stepped into it and tried to reach around to hook it completely. She looked like a dog chasing its tail for a few minutes until she finally got it hooked. Then she flipped her head over, wrung the water from the ends, and then began working out the tangles with her fingers. Crickets were chirping loudly and an easy breeze blew through the area, bending the grass on its side while shaking leaves on low overhanging branches above her head. Fireflies dotted the darkening sky with bright flecks of yellow and green. It felt magical.
And that is when she felt it… the air changed just a hint and she knew she was being watched. Call it intuition. Slowly she turned towards the knight, looking for any signs that he may have moved. But as long as she stared, he did nothing. He was exactly the same as she left him… or was he. His eyes were shut still, and his breathing looked even, from this distance. Squinting, she stared at his chest. There didn’t seem to be any change. And yet she couldn’t stop a mortified laugh from escaping her lips. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. There was no way he was watching her while she bathed…
***
Ah yes, Darias was awake and had been for some time. He was pleased to see the girl not only turned out to be quite toothsome, but also was a young ripe woman in every regard. Her skin was flawless, no scars marring its perfection. Her long dark hair hung loosely down her back, tapering off just above the sweet curve of her buttocks. The color was reminiscent of raven’s feathers and he wondered if it would be just as silky to touch. His fingers itched to do just that, but he refrained. He did not want to spoil the moment; it was absolutely perfect.
All Marguerite wanted, was a hearty meal to savor and a good night’s sleep for once. She walked over and turned the spit so the rabbit would be evenly cooked. Apparently, the knight was busy while she was passed out, thank goodness. The rabbit would be finished cooking soon. She hoped he woke up so she would not have to eat his food without his permission. But if it came down to it, she would, of course. A girl has to do what girl has to do. Once she finished, she straightened and smoothed her hands over her skirt, walking back to his side. Looking down, she admired his fine form. He was dressed in a long-sleeved under-tunic that reached just past his knees. A sleeveless tunic was worn on top of that one; it had slits on the sides and was belted across his taut waist. A long cloak was fastened to his broad shoulders and he wore a pair of pants tucked into leather boots. He had a massive broadsword sheathed at his side and a dagger poking out of the top of his left boot. His hair had fallen away from his handsome face and was spread upon the mossy ground. There was a small scar at the corner of one of his eyes, and a jagged purple line went from his ear across the front of his neck. She leaned down and ran her finger over it, sucking in her breath, imagining how terrible that must have been. She had to wonder how she missed that before, it was a pretty substantial scar. It was probably due to the fact she was too busy gawking at his handsome face. Kneeling down beside him, she lifted her now clean hand, ran her fingers across his brow, and then down to his lips. Sighing she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to his…she couldn’t help it. They were as soft as she remembered, perhaps even softer. She sat back and simply stared at him, another dreamy sigh slipping past her lips. Chewing on her lip, she contemplated whether she should try that again.
Darias tried his best to school his features. The little vixen had just kissed him. His body was interested, his mind curious. He normally would have pulled her down and given her what she so obviously wanted, but his mind had other ideas. He was intrigued… so instead he waited to see what she would do next.
Patience was not one of Marguerites virtues. Still she chewed on her lip a moment more and then threw caution to the wind. Impulsively she reached out and placed her hand on his muscled chest. The slight contact made her fingers instantly warm and tingly but that didn’t stop her from lowering her hand further. Inch by inch, she moved her fingers down over his chest to his taut stomach muscles, trying to envision what he would look like if he were awake and not passed out. Would he smile? Or would his black eyes be serious and filled with desire like they once were? She was boldly going where she would have never gone before—and why not? It was not as if he would know, or even remember. She moved her hand lower, holding it over his most private area, the one she could not see in the water earlier. What would it feel like? You will never know unless you try, her mind chided. Accepting her own shortcomings she gave into temptation. Obviously she had no willpower. The tips of her fingers skimmed further down, past his narrow waist and then brushed them lightly on top of his …
Suddenly her hand was caught. Another, larger hand held hers in a vise-like grip. Trying to hide her face she turned her head away. She would have run, but he held her hand too tightly. Bloody hell!
Darias held fast to her hand, staring at the back of her head. He had a feeling if he didn’t keep hold of her, she would run. He wasn’t sure what he thought of that yet. “Wouldn’t you like to tell me your name before you have your way with my person?” he asked softly.
Oh good Lord! Mortified to her core, she tugged on her fingers. Of course he only tightened his hold, the warmth of his fingers, wrapping around hers. What was she thinking? Well, obviously she had not been thinking at all…at least not of the repercussions of such an act.
He chuckled lightly. The sound sent shivers all over her body. It sounded deep and strong, just as she always envisioned a knight should sound. Seeing no other alternative she turned her head slightly, glancing at him from under her lowered lashes.
Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the familiar black depths of his eyes. He smiled then. She gave him a winning smile in return filled with all the emotion she was feeling.
Darias’s laughter evaporated. He felt an all too familiar pull towards the girl. Flashes of her in another time crept out from the farthest corners of his mind as he looked into her striking violet eyes. They were tilted up just a hint at the corners. Her dark, curling lashes stood out in vivid contrast to her light complexion. A soft pinkish glow flamed her cheeks as she looked at him in wide-eyed wonderment. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and kiss that sweet innocent expression from her face. Lifting his hand he touched her face with the back of his fingers, feeling the warmth of her smooth soft skin. Slowly, he slid his hand around her neck, pu
lling her face towards his and then his mouth seized hers. His kisses were not what he would have given an inexperienced maiden, but those of a man fully aroused. The kiss was full of heat and promises of what was to come…
Marguerite couldn’t breathe. His kiss stole her very breath, the scruff of his unshaven face scraped roughly against her own as he thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth. She tried to follow his lead, opening her mouth more, but there was no gentleness in his kiss. Still, she went willingly when he pulled her even closer to his body, his mouth devouring hers. This was not what she remembered, not one bit. Other parts of his body were hardening, the part she tried to touch earlier. What was she supposed to do with that? Her mind reeled. Would he want to lie with her now? What was she going to do? She could not say nay to him now, could she? Reality came crashing around her. It did not matter that he was the man of her dreams, or that he was so handsome it made her ache. He was being rough. This was not turning out to be the way she envisioned. Too freely his hands roamed over her body, kneading her hip, the side of her breast. Then his hand slipped over her breast and he squeezed the tender flesh, pinching the top with his fingers. His kisses were not as nice as she remembered, though she could tolerate them, but this squeezing, pinching bit was getting ridiculous. Pulling back, she tried to close her lips, so his tongue would not delve so deeply. Once she was able to close her lips she gave him a chaste peck. He made a growling noise and moved down to her neck, sucking the delicate skin there as well.
Marguerite wondered why he did not tell her how much he missed her. Where were his declarations of love? Something was terribly wrong. Pressing her hands to his chest she pushed away and searched his black, almond-shaped eyes for some sign of remembrance. Where was the window to his soul she saw before? What happened to the tender sweet kisses he gave her the last time he saw her…the ones that made her knees weak …her heart pound?
Confusion creased her brow. She saw nothing but his desire to stick his thing into her body. Her chest tightened as her heart deflated. It was obvious the moment that meant so much to her was now gone. Was she so easily forgotten then? Was it all her imagination? Hot angry tears filled her eyes; she couldn’t stand looking at him any longer. He was a complete stranger to her now.
Darias felt her stiffen against him. Her kisses were no longer soft and welcoming, but tight and unyielding. He felt like someone snatched his willing wench away and replaced her with a simpering miss, so he released her. He may have been aroused, but he was not a man to take his own pleasure when it was obvious the girl was not interested in the same. He was dumbfounded though. She seemed only too willing to accommodate him just moments before… now she was looking at him like he was a wastrel. He smiled to relax her a bit. Sometimes a girl needed a bit of coaxing. They liked a man to work for their favors; maybe she did not want to seem too eager. He would never understand the opposite sex. It would be much more enjoyable if she would stop pretending to be a shy simpering miss. She should act more like Morrigan, his regular bedmate.
On second thought, maybe not… Morrigan liked it rough. She was a scratcher and a biter, throwing in a growl or two for good measure. It was a bit grating, if not unsettling at times. Morrigan was not only his bedmate from time to time, but she was also his resident healer. She had flaming red hair with amber eyes. She conjured spells and fixed ailments. Darias oftentimes felt as though he was mating with an animal and not a wench at all, but at least she was always ready and willing… demanding, actually. She normally couldn’t get enough of his person. Darias smiled to himself. He could understand her sentiments completely.
Marguerite was so angry she could spit. She actually began to gather a huge amount of saliva in her mouth to do just that. What an insensitive buffoon he turned into!
Well, she was going to until he smiled, turning her insides into a quivering mass of jelly. His jaw-dropping dimples appeared on either side of his face. It literally stole her breath. How on Earth did one battle against one such as this?
He lifted his brow at her, smiling the same smile he had given many a wench making them fall into his arms and tumble into his bed. It was something that just happened. He never needed to work at it. Well, he did work, just in different ways. “What’s your name, girl?” he asked, using his most seductive tone.
His presence was so overwhelming. She was completely stupefied and it took a moment for his words to sink in. What was my name… girl? Girl? Narrowing her eyes, she tried to gauge his reaction to her answer. “Why my name is Marguerite.”
Reaching out her lifted a piece of her hair, twirling it around his fingers, feeling its softness. It did feel like a raven’s feathers. Just as sleek. “Hmm… Marguerite… that is a pretty name,” he murmured huskily.
Her sinking suspicions became a harsh reality. He didn’t know her any longer. She couldn’t take it. She yanked her hair from his grasp. He gave her a blank stare.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek she tried to reason, grasping. Okay, so she didn’t give him her name before, but shouldn’t he say something like… Where have you been, my love? “Don’t you remember me?” she asked finally, her voice quivering, making her sound even more pitiful than she felt.
Darias leaned back, trying to see her expression. Once he did, he could see that she didn’t look happy as he had imagined she would after being kissed by him. Instead her pretty eyes widened and not in a good way. “Should I?” he asked, trying to search his brain for any recollection. It was suddenly very quiet and he wondered if she had even heard him. Her face was turned from him but he could still see her profile. She really was a lovely girl, pretty even, now that she was clean. A gust of cool air blew her hair away from her face and the strands danced in the wind.
Another time slammed into his mind…a brief flash of her looking the same way, the same forlorn expression on her lovely face. Instantly he wanted to take the look from her and replace it with another. He wanted to see her smile. To kiss the sadness from her, make her forget whatever was troubling her. Dropping his hand, he shook his head, sliding further away. What was wrong with him? She was a simple wench, nothing more.
Sightlessly she stared into the coming night, her heart falling little by little. Maybe she had imagined everything. No, it was real. But not now, his only motives were those of a rutting stag, nothing more. She wanted to cry. Her mind screamed he doesn’t even know you. Her once full heart deflated completely…she had somehow been forgotten.
So many emotions played across her face making her rigid and distant, taking with it the moment they shared with every second that ticked by. Darias let out an exasperated breath and sat up, releasing his hold on her completely. He could not have envisioned a more perfect setting than the one he just had within his grasp up until a few moments ago. She had not said a word. It was as though she were placed on this Earth for his pleasure alone. Of course, he ignored the little voice inside of his head telling him something was just not right. Lifting his hand, he leaned forward and tried once more to coax her to him. He was not one to run from a challenge. Tilting her chin with his fingers, he moved even closer. He was ready to kiss that desolate look right from her face but then another short flash came to him, unbidden of doing that same endearing gesture before. It was not a gesture he usually made. A high pitch ringing sounded in his ears. He shook his head, trying to clear the vision from his mind, to stop the noise. Abruptly his mind came back to the present and when she turned towards him, he felt his blood run cold. She was looking at him like she was trying to make him see something. But what, he knew not. Adjusting his back on the base of the tree, he looked to the ground and pulled up a blade of grass. Casually, he looked back at her. She was looking at him with something akin to longing in her gaze. Now he was confused. Why was she looking at him in such a way? It was almost as if she thought he was her long lost love. He swallowed hard. Apparently, she was more than a willing wench looking for a tussle. She was looking for more… he could swear she was looking for love.
Marguerites lip quivered. She bit it to stop from crying out as she watched him run away. She would not have been able to follow even if she wanted to. It hurt too badly.
If you spy, you better do it right
PRESENT DAY * RAVENHURST
RAVEN slipped out of her room and walked out into the hallway. Her Chanel flats barely made a sound. Thank God. Her cow clomping from earlier was a bit much to take. Armored knights in dimly lit alcoves flanked her on either side as she walked further down the hall towards the stairwell. They were all from different periods in time. Some were newer, worn purely for show in tournaments, while others looked like they had stood not only the test of time, but the terrors of war as well. It gave her chills, envisioning knights wearing these very suits of armor into battle where they killed their foes, or were killed, fighting for their king and the people they loved.
They were incredible pieces of history and surprisingly well preserved. So many people thought knights needed to be lifted by cranes to wear armor, but in reality their armor only weighed between thirty-five to fifty pounds. The heavier armor actually came later in time to deflect gunfire and they were mostly plates for their chests and helmets. They were still very agile when it came to battle. You never hear of female knights, but there were some of them as well. And no, you did not need to be wealthy to be a knight either. Although oftentimes kings made knights, so did priests, depending on necessity.
TIME TO REMEMBER: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (RAVENHURST SERIES) Page 5