Connie Mason

“She delivers what longtime romance readers want: remarkable characters and a story that sweeps them away.”

“This is classic Mason. Her fans will put this on the top of their to-read lists.”

“Mason’s romances are always a feast for readers seeking a passionate, exciting story peopled with larger-than-life heroes who take your breath away.”

“A legend of the genre, Mason delivers a tried-and-true romance with a classic plot and highly engaging characters.”

“Ms. Mason has written another winner to delight her fans who want sexual tension that leads to hot explosion, memorable characters and a fast-paced story.”

“[Ms. Mason] crafts with excellence and creativity . . . [and] the added attraction of mystery and magic.”

“. . . Upholds the author’s reputation for creating memorable stories and remarkable characters.”

“Ms. Mason has written a rich medieval romance filled with tournaments, chivalry, lust and love.”

“Ms. Mason always provides the reader with a hot romance, filled with plot twists and wonderful characters. She’s a marvelous storyteller.”

“Ms. Mason has created memorable characters and a plot that made this reader rush to turn the pages . . .
Gunslinger
is an enduring story.”

“Connie Mason at her best! She draws readers into this fast-paced, tender and emotional historical romance that proves love really does conquer all!”

“You asked me to kiss you once and I refused.” His voice took on a harshness that matched his expression. “Is it a kiss you want? I am a man with a man’s needs. I will not refuse this time, Raven of Chirk.”

She took an involuntary step backward, stunned by the ferocity of his words. “Nay, ’tis not . . .”

Her protest died in her throat as he reached for her, roughly dragging her against him. A torrent of heat shot through her and she leaned into him, bracing her hands against the broad expanse of his chest.

“Drake, I did not mean . . .”

“I know exactly what you want from me.”

His lips burned against hers, hot, firm, yet not hard as she had supposed they would be. His kiss was hungry, relentless.

Suddenly she wanted his arms to hold her, surround her, never let her go, but Drake pushed her away and gave her a mocking smile.

“Is that what you wanted, Lady Raven? Did you wish to compare my kisses with those of your betrothed?”

Other books by Connie Mason:

A BREATH OF SCANDAL

A KNIGHT’S HONOR

A LOVE TO CHERISH

A PROMISE OF THUNDER

A TASTE OF PARADISE

A TASTE OF SIN

A TOUCH SO WICKED

BEYOND THE HORIZON

BOLD LAND, BOLD LOVE

BRAVE LAND, BRAVE LOVE

CARESS AND CONQUER

FLAME

GUNSLINGER

GYPSY LOVER

HIGHLAND WARRIOR

ICE AND RAPTURE

LION’S BRIDE

LIONHEART

LORD OF DEVIL ISLE

LOVE ME WITH FURY

MY LADY VIXEN

PIRATE

PROMISE ME FOREVER

PROMISED SPLENDOR

PURE TEMPTATION

SEDUCED BY A ROGUE

SHADOW WALKER

SHEIK

SIERRA

SURRENDER TO THE FURY

TAKEN BY YOU

TEARS LIKE RAIN

TEMPT THE DEVIL

TENDER FURY

THE BLACK KNIGHT

THE DRAGON LORD

THE LAIRD OF STONEHAVEN

THE LAST ROGUE

THE OUTLAWS: JESS

THE OUTLAWS: RAFE

THE OUTLAWS: SAM

THE PIRATE PRINCE

THE PRINCE OF PLEASURE

THE ROGUE AND THE HELLION

TO LOVE A STRANGER

TO TAME A RENEGADE

TO TEMPT A ROGUE

TREASURES OF THE HEART

VIKING WARRIOR

VIKING!

WILD LAND, WILD LOVE

WIND RIDER

C
ONNIE
M
ASON

To Joe, Matt, James, Alex, Arron, Nick, and Mason. May
my seven grandsons grow up to be knights in shining armor
.

DORCHESTER PUBLISHING

January 2011

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016

Copyright © 1999 by Connie Mason

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 13: 978-1-4285-1171-2
E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0970-2

The “DP” logo is the property of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Printed in the United States of America.

Visit us online at
www.dorchesterpub.com
.

The Black
Knight

A lad aspires to knighthood
.

Wales, 1336

The tall, imposing knight gazed at the strapping ten-year-old lad through cold gray eyes that held little compassion. “Do you know who I am, boy?”

The boy squinted up at the strange knight but did not flinch beneath that flinty, humorless gaze. “Nay, sir.”

“Did your mother tell you naught about your father?”

“She said that he is English and did not want her. He married her and then abandoned her. I hate him!” the lad said with fierce vehemence. “Though I have never set eyes upon him, I shall always hate him.”

“Hmmm,” the tall knight said, stroking his beardless jaw. “Keep that hatred, boy. Nurture it. You will need it to draw upon in the years to come. The world has little use for bastards.”

The boy drew himself up proudly, thrust out his square chin in a show of belligerence and declared, “I am no bastard, sir! Granny Nola said my father and mother were married by a priest in the village church, and she does not lie.”

“You will have a hard time proving that, boy,” the knight said harshly. “ ’Tis best to lose those fanciful notions if you are to survive.”

“Why do you care?” the lad challenged. “Who are you?”

“I understand your mother named you Drake,” the knight said, ignoring the lad’s questions. “She chose well. It means dragon. ’Tis a good name. You will do well to remember the meaning and live up to the promise.”

Drake glanced over his shoulder at the shack he shared with Granny Nola and saw her standing in the doorway, anxiously wringing her hands. She looked frightened. Did the English knight mean them harm?

The knight continued to stare at Drake, as if trying to decide something of great import.

“What are you staring at?” Drake demanded boldly. “Who are you and what do you want with me and Granny?”

“I am Basil of Eyre, your father.”

“Nay!” Drake denied, backing away. “Go away! I do not need you! I hate you!”

Basil clamped a hand on Drake’s rigid shoulder. “There is a lot of anger in you, lad, but that is not a bad thing. You are going to have to fight every step of the way if you are to get along in life. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Drake shook his head.

“You will learn,” Basil said. “How did your mother die?”

“Why do you care?”

Basil cuffed him on the head. “Do not speak thus to me. How did Leta die?”

“Fever took her. We were all ill, but only Mama died. She was the weakest.”

Basil’s face softened for a brief moment. “A pity,” he muttered. Then his expression returned to its harsh lines. “Do you know why I am here?”

“Nay, and I do not care. Leave me and Granny alone. We do not need you.”

“Methinks Lord Nyle will soon teach you manners. I was visiting Nyle of Chirk when I met your mother, you know. I was but a lad of eighteen and loved to hunt. Nyle’s land marches along the border and we crossed into Wales to hunt boar. I came upon Leta picking berries in the woods. But that is neither here nor there,” he said dismissively. “You are to pack your belongings and come with me.”

Drake’s chin wobbled despite his bravado. “And leave
Granny? Nay, I will go nowhere with you. I do not care who you are.”

“You
will
leave,” Basil insisted.

“How did you find out about Mama? Who told you she died?”

“Years ago I asked Nyle of Chirk to keep me informed of your welfare. His spies reported to him regularly. They informed him of your mother’s death, and Nyle sent word to me.”

Drake’s silver eyes, so like his father’s, shimmered with unrelenting hatred. “Why? You never wanted us.”

“ ’Tis complicated,” Basil explained. “My father had already betrothed me to Elise of Leister and would not allow me to break the betrothal. I have a wife, and a son a few months younger than you. ’Tis all you need to know. Go now and pack your belongings.”