Love's Call (7 page)

This perhaps is the best course for the time being, but I shall leave that up to you and, of course, Leargan.

Knowing Leargan as I do, he may be resistant to my plans, and the
order
to marry. But I am sure Ansley’s fair countenance will be a sufficient persuader.

Murdoch and I shall depart Terraquist in two or three sevendays to arrive in fair Greenwald for their wedding.

Regards,

Nathal

He was supposed to
marry
her?

Leargan stared at the words. When they didn’t change in any way, he looked at his duke. “I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.” He muttered a few choice words and shook his head.

Jorrin chuckled. “You sound like Cera,” he said. “She, too, had an issue—however temporary—with the king’s
plans
.”

Frowning, Leargan met his lord’s eyes. “You had the advantage of already being in love with her, and she with you.”

“I’ll have to give you that one. Although, Mistress Ansley Fraser
is
no hardship on the eyes.” Jorrin’s gaze sharpened and Leargan forced himself to sit still.

“He’s ordering me to marry her,” he said, flicking the word on the scroll. “So it doesn’t matter if she was a bearded troll.”

The duke laughed long and hard. “Would it be so horrible? Ansley would fit right in. She already knows everyone, even Tristan. She’s very close to Cera and Aimil and seems very sweet. I realize you don’t love her, but do you think you could?”

Had Leargan not seen Jorrin with Cera and Tristan with Aimil, he wouldn’t have acknowledged believing in romantic love. He’d never planned on love for himself; he was a knight, a warrior.

He’d never had problems with getting a woman when he’d wanted one, but Ansley was different. Innocent, wellborn…his former captain’s daughter.

“She
is
beautiful.” The admission slipped from his lips after several moments of silence.

And she makes my heart do funny things
.

Lord Aldern shot him a look, but said nothing.

“Somehow I don’t think she’d be any happier than I with King Nathal’s games. Although her father is in on the plan as well,” Leargan said.

“Perhaps not. But you don’t have to tell her now. Even the king says so.”

“Then when? After the wedding? Which is apparently only a few sevendays away,” Leargan said.

Jorrin’s lips twitched as if the duke was fighting another smile. “Keep the scroll. It’s more yours than mine. Why not show it to her? Maybe she’ll just agree to marry you when she reads it.” He cocked his head to the side.

“What would you do?”

“Oh, no. The king says my part in this is a ruse.” Jorrin put his palms up. “Anyway, it was just a suggestion. Not my fault if you don’t like it.”

Leargan scowled, then and now.

Air rushing from his lungs yanked him from his memories. He stumbled.

He’d run into someone in the corridor.

At the muttered exclamation of surprise, he blindly reached to steady the other person.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, meeting his eyes.

The Blessed Spirit is laughing at you, Leargan Tegran
.

Leargan fell into the blue-green orbs. He swallowed and shook himself. “Are you all right?” He screamed at himself to focus, sucking in a breath.

His shoulder smarted, but with the jarring impact, Ansley had probably bruised her cheek. Leargan’s hand rested on her upper arm, and he stared there for a moment, before withdrawing it. He smiled at the blush that lit her cheeks. She was charming. The mix of innocence and toughness was intriguing.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be opposed to having her as his wife. King Nathal had chosen well for him. But could Ansley even fathom it? The suggestion—or
order
, as it were—would be out of the blue to her. She thought she was in Greenwald simply to visit old friends.

What the
hell
are you thinking?

Obviously Ansley wasn’t the only one affected by their collision.

Visions of her crimson cheeks, heavy-lidded eyes and naked body flitted through his mind.

His damn dreams.

The short period of only three days, since they’d been introduced on the road in the dark, did nothing to prevent his lust for her. Even the innocent touch on her arm made him want more.

Pull her to him. Feel her lush curves against his chest. Kiss her. Touch her.

He shifted his boots. Strong restraint kept him from tugging her into his arms right then and kissing the blush off her cheeks. Then he would capture her lips properly—

“I’m fine. Are you?” Ansley’s soft voice pulled him from his desires.

Leargan’s neck burned. “Aye.” He cleared his throat. “You hit my shoulder. Are you sure you’re all right?” He cupped her face, tilting her cheek up so he could examine it.

His gaze slid to her lips and his throat went dry as Ansley’s tongue darted out.

Pink. Wet
.

Every fiber in his being wanted to kiss her.

He tore his eyes from her mouth and met hers.

“I…I…I’m fine…
really
.” She gently pushed his hand away.

“Should we find Lord Dagget?”

“No, no. I’m fine, Sir Tegran, honestly.”

“Leargan.”

“W-w-what?”

“I believe I told you to call me Leargan,” he chided.

Crimson on her cheeks went a deeper shade, and he thanked the Blessed Spirit right then and there for the sunshine coming in the wide corridor windows. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss the expression on her beautiful face.

“Sorry, Sir Te—I mean, Leargan.”

“Are you sure you didn’t bump your head?” he asked.

She looked down, and his stomach roiled. He’d not meant the tease to hurt her feelings.

Leargan guided her face back up. His apology evaporated on his tongue. He sank into teal eyes.

He lowered his head, brushing his lips against the cheek that had slammed into his shoulder instead.

Ansley’s eyes widened but she didn’t move away from him, so he gave in to his desire to kiss her.

He drew her close, jumping when she wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist. He captured her lips, trembling at her softness. The gentle sweep of their mouths previewed how she tasted.

More.

Leargan needed more.

He molded her to him. Full breasts flattened to his hard chest, her firm stomach against his abdominal muscles, her pelvis against his.

His blood sang and his manhood stood at attention, straining against his breeches as desire stole his thoughts. Tracing her lips, he held back a moan when she finally let him in. As she timidly touched her tongue to his, Leargan plunged into her mouth, exploring her sweetness.

Ansley mated her tongue to his and he groaned against her lips. The innocence in her kiss made his heart pound.

Mine
.

She was meant for him. She just didn’t know it yet.

Ansley tightened her grip around his waist as if otherwise unable to stay on her feet. Her whole body quivered.

Leargan pulled her even closer, reveling in her softness. His erection twitched. No doubt she could feel it. “Ansley,” he whispered against her mouth. After cupping her face, he placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

She looked dazed, her eyes heavy and cloudy.

Moments passed and she said nothing, so he took her mouth again.

Starting off slow and sweet like before wasn’t enough this time. Leargan kissed her harder.

Ansley rubbed her tongue against his, whimpering. She gave and took as much as he did, sucking, nibbling, tongues dancing and dueling.

Leargan pushed her against the corridor wall, mapping every inch of her tall slender form. His fingertips brushed her bare neck, following the V of her tunic, and he wanted to dip his hand inside, but he cupped her breasts on the outside of the soft fabric instead.

Ansley arched against him, moaning.

His erection pulsed in his breeches while he struggled for control. Need was burning him from the inside out.

She snaked her arms around his neck and buried her hands in his hair.

He lifted her leg, slipping his hand to the underside of her thigh, and nestling his pelvis against hers.

The feel of her leather breeches made him pause. Too bad she wasn’t wearing a skirt. He would’ve been touching her skin then. But it wouldn’t be long. He
had
to touch her.

She pressed even closer, gasping from the intimate contact.

Leargan groaned and rocked his hips. He reached for her belt. Her hot bare skin was only inches from his fingertips.

“Leargan,” Ansley breathed against his lips.

Her voice snapped him out of the passionate fog.

His name on her lips...
Innocent.

What are you doing?

This was Ansley Fraser, not some whore or willing maid. He had her against the wall of a lit corridor in the middle of the day where anyone could have seen them.

Leargan had been about to take her, for Blessed Spirit’s sake.

She was no doubt a virgin.

Disgust shot his desire to hell and his gut roiled.

He never lost control, let alone with a woman. Leargan needed to get away from her before he did something that couldn’t be reversed, something they’d both regret.

Releasing her, he stifled a groan when his gaze raked her face.

Ansley’s eyes were hazy and confused, her lips swollen from their kisses and cheeks flushed. Her red hair was pleasantly mussed, and it took all he was made of not to draw her back into his arms and kiss her again.

His neck tingled from her touch and his whole body throbbed. “I’m sorry,” Leargan panted.

Her brow knitted and she straightened against the wall.

He tore his gaze away.

Coward.

“I need to see to some…duties.”

One boot in front of the other, Leargan forced himself to walk away while he still could.

Chapter Six

Ansley put her fingertips to her lips. She could still feel him there, taste him.

The corridor blurred, and tears scalded her cheeks before she could stop them.

He’d apologized
.

For kissing her. Walked away.

Her chest ached. Had she just been stabbed in the heart?

Leargan’s apology ruined what they’d shared.

She’d been thinking about him when they’d collided in the corridor.

Wide enough that two warhorses could walk it abreast, yet she’d run
into
him. Her cheek had smarted, but she’d been fine.

Was it fate?

Ansley ignored the notion. Just because he finally knew who she was didn’t mean he was for her. A man as handsome as Sir Leargan Tegran could have any woman he wanted. Why would he even consider freckle-faced Ansley Fraser?

But he’d kissed her. Twice.

She’d never experienced longing like she had at the first touch of Leargan’s lips. The feel of his hard body pressed against hers. Protected, but consumed at the same time. It was an odd contradiction that left her wanting to get even closer to him. She’d had to hold onto him to remain on her feet, but Leargan hadn’t seemed to mind—at least at the time.

When he’d lifted her leg and pushed himself into her, something had shouted for her to stop him, but she couldn’t. She’d waited too long for him.

Ansley wanted Leargan, and the evidence pressed against her told her the feeling was mutual.

Could she have been so wrong?

Tears cascaded and she sniffled, swiping at her nose with the back of her hand.

No. Don’t
think about it.

Ansley made a fist. She’d enjoy the rest of her visit and head back to Terraquist as planned.

She regretted officially meeting Leargan. It was easier to accept that he didn’t know she was alive than be crushed by knowing he didn’t want her.

Especially now that she’d been introduced to the joy of being held in his arms, have his mouth moving over hers.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the hurt away.

“Ansley?”

She wiped her eyes again and plastered a smile on before she turned to Aimil. “Hello. Just came from visiting Avril. Was on my way to check on Cera. Want to come with?” Words rushed, she fought for control. Her cheeks flushed.

Aimil studied her and cocked her head to one side. “Is Avril all right? Did something happen?”

Ansley met her friend’s dark eyes and shook her head. “No, no. We shared a meal and spoke with Meara. Avril didn’t say much, but she looks well. She even smiled. I think she misses Sir Roduch. He’s on the fighting yard today.” She forced her smile wider, trying not to squirm under Aimil’s appraising gaze.

Please believe me.

She’d never admitted her feelings for Leargan to Cera or Aimil, despite how close they were.

The whole story would probably come out eventually, but Ansley didn’t want to talk about it now.

Too fresh. Hurts too much.

“I suppose you’ll tell me when you want to.” Aimil gave a curt nod, slipping her arm in Ansley’s and looked up at her. “But I’m glad you’ve spent time with Avril. I don’t think she’s comfortable around me.”

“I wouldn’t say that. She’s been through a lot. She’s not comfortable around anyone.”

“Right. These things take time. I shall visit if she’ll have me. Let her know we can be friends?”

“Good idea.”

Aimil smiled. She was petite, and her friend really did have to look
up
at her. Her raven hair hung loose to her waist in waves that shone blue in the sunlight streaming in through the corridor windows. It framed her beautiful face. Her gown was dark gray and simple, belying her rank.

Cera called for them to enter her rooms at Aimil’s knock.

Ansley reveled at the time she’d been given to visit with Cera and Aimil. It was as if growing up, moving on, had never happened. She’d missed her friends. Much more than she’d realized.

The duchess had changed, since the death of her family, but her husband seemed to have helped her heal, and Ansley was already fond of Lord Aldern.

She’d been on a message run to the Netian Valley when Cera and Jorrin had married, so she’d missed it, but she was grateful for the chance to get to know him now.

As soon as she’d seen the two of them together, it’d been obvious that Jorrin was perfect for Cera.