Timeless (44 page)

Celine tore open the shutters. The stained glass was there. She yanked it inward on its hinges and a blast of cold air poured into the room, along with a spill of silver light. The moon above looked normal, clear, full—

But the city was missing.

Celine stared, opened her mouth, couldn’t utter a sound. Cold dread knotted her stomach.
The town of St. Pol had vanished!
Where there had been buildings, paved streets, people, motor scooters, neon, noise—there was now only silent forest.

Her gaze fell on the courtyard below. The Mercedes and Bugattis and Aston Martins were gone. The neatly plowed circular drive was gone. The guest villas. The tennis courts. The swimming pool. One entire wing of the chateau was missing!

There was only the stone keep. A smooth blanket of new-fallen snow. The moat. The wall—which didn’t look crumbling and ancient, but solid and new.

The first day of January, 1300.

It couldn’t be!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buy this boook now at your favorite ebook retailer:

Forever His: A Time-Travel Romance
http://www.shellythacker.com/foreverhis.html

Bonus Content:

Excerpt from
HIS FORBIDDEN TOUCH

(Historical Romance, Stolen Brides Series, Book 2)

In a realm of snow and ice, a mercenary is assigned to protect a princess on a journey that may prove deadly to them both.

Disgraced ex-knight Royce Saint-Michel was banished from his homeland because of an impulsive act that cost him all he held dear. Now, he has the chance to reclaim his birthright – if he escorts the lovely Princess Ciara to her royal wedding and ensures that she arrives untouched. The two set off alone on a treacherous journey through snowy mountain passes, but forbidden desire soon proves even more dangerous than the assassins on their trail. With the fate of two kingdoms hanging in the balance, will Royce and Ciara do as honor and duty demand... or surrender to the longing in their hearts?

“A fun and erotic 14th-century romp... loaded with non-stop adventure.”
Publishers Weekly

He was in love with her
. With this sweet innocent who had drifted into his life like an angel on a beam of morning sunlight. Princess Ciara. The King’s daughter. Daemon’s betrothed.
A lady who belonged to everyone else but him...

He swore he could hear each drop of water as it glided down her body.

Seated on a stool in front of the hearth, his jaw clenched so hard that it hurt, Royce kept his back to Ciara and his gaze on the untouched trencher of food in his hands. And fought a desperate battle to ignore the liquid, sensual sounds just a few paces behind him.

He should have told the innkeeper and his assistants to take the hot bath away. The fire and the fur had clearly been enough to revive Ciara. She was in no danger.

But after all she had endured this day, he had found himself unable to deny her a few moments’...

Pleasure.

The word made his entire body go taut with strain. He realized he was sweating. The chamber that had seemed so cold just minutes ago now felt much too hot. Sultry. Confining.

Every splash of warm water caressing her naked skin made his heart beat harder. Each barely audible sigh that escaped her lips made his blood pound through his veins. He could not even draw a complete breath, longed to get up and pace—but that would mean turning around.

And seeing what he was hearing.

He grabbed a haunch of roast meat from his trencher and sank his teeth into it, struggling to remember that a great many lives depended on him doing what was right and honorable.

Including his own.

Wolfing down his meal, he resisted the urge to steal a glance over his shoulder... and tried to keep his mind off the large, soft bed in the corner.

At least the arrival of the tub had spared him one bit of torture: having Ciara tend his injuries. He had seen to his own cuts and bruises while she had prepared for her bath.

The thought of what her tender ministrations might have been like, of her fingers moving over his bare skin...

He gnawed the last bit of meat from the mutton bone, unable to forget the way she had looked at him when he had stripped off his tunic and turned to face her. The wonder in her gaze, and the unexpected, unmistakable arousal, had hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of the sweet, feminine passion he had tasted so briefly at Bayard’s castle.

The passion that he had no right to taste or to take.

“Royce?”

He almost choked on his food. “Aye?”

“Could you... mayhap hand me something to... to dry off with? Please?”

His heart thudded. Her tremulous voice revealed that she was just as affected as he was by the heat sizzling through the room.

His gaze slid to the stack of linens on the table to his left. He wished fervently that she had thought of this before getting into the tub. “Of course.”

He tried to say it casually, to act as if he had beautiful, naked women bathing within five paces of him every day.

Setting his trencher aside, he picked up some of the clean linens and moved as close to her as he dared, keeping his gaze averted. He placed them on the floor within her reach.

But he did not move away.

He heard her breath catch. For an instant, just one instant, he lingered there. Wishing...wanting...

Then he forced himself to reclaim his place before the hearth.

Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You are welcome.” He glared into the flames, felt beads of sweat slide down his temple, his neck, into the matted hair of his bare chest.

Neither of the tunics he had pilfered from the stable boys fit him, both too tight to get past his shoulders. He could only hope one of the garments would fit Ciara.

The wish became a prayer a moment later as he heard her stand. He had to shut his eyes to banish the image painted by the sounds: water sluicing off her naked body. The little rush of breath between her teeth as the night air touched her wet skin.

He imagined her nipples tightened to hard pearls, imagined them a perfect, dusky pink.

Next he heard the crunch of the rushes beneath her feet as she stepped from the tub. And the quiet rustling of the linen as she rubbed the soft cloth over her smooth, wet curves.

Then silence.

Every muscle in his body tightened. He remained still, not trusting himself to move. Knowing that if he so much as dared draw breath, he would have her in his arms and on the bed before either of them could say a word.

He blinked once, slowly. Waited.

“Royce?” she whispered tentatively.

“What?” His voice sounded rough and hollow.

She hesitated a moment. “What am I to wear?”

The chamber seemed to grow smaller and even hotter around him. He waved a hand over his shoulder, motioning her toward the corner near the door. “See if any of those fit you.”

He listened while she padded barefoot over to the pile of stolen garments. She could not put her ruined gown back on. The few bits of cloth left intact after their escape today had more or less shredded when she had disrobed for her bath. The task of getting undressed had apparently been difficult with her hands bandaged. And he had not dared to offer help.

Nor did he offer any now, as he listened to her wrestling with the homespun garments in an attempt to fit them over her curves.

She made a sound of frustration. “I do not think these will work. My hips are too... and my... my...”

He did not need an explanation. His imagination provided a complete, vivid picture.

Gritting his teeth, he whispered an oath and flicked a glance heavenward. Was it not enough that he had to spend the next few days alone with her in this room? Did she have to be as naked as Eve the entire time?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Buy this book now at your favorite ebook retailer:

His Forbidden Touch
http://www.shellythacker.com/hisforbiddentouch.html

Bonus Content: Sneak Preview Excerpt from the upcoming revised edition of
FALCON ON THE WIND
(Historical Romance, a prequel to the Stolen Brides Series)

Dear Reader,

I’m working on an all-new edition of my first novel, revising it from first page to last. The upcoming second edition of
Falcon on the Wind
will feature special bonus content, including deleted scenes never before published.

Set in 1295, five years before
Forever His
takes place,
Falcon on the Wind
introduces us to a charming scoundrel named Gaston de Varennes for the first time, when he offers refuge to a friend who’s on a dangerous secret mission.

Enjoy this exclusive, advanced sneak peek of the novel-in-progress, as our hero and heroine, Connor and Laurien, meet for the first time.

“A compelling, memorable romance. Shelly Thacker’s Falcon on the Wind joins the ranks of the finest medieval captive/captor stories along with those by Elizabeth Stuart and Johanna Lindsey. A new star of medieval romance is on the rise. 4 1/2 stars (highest rating).”
Kathe Robin, Romantic Times

Kidnapped from her royal wedding—by her groom’s most dangerous enemy

Betrayed by a treacherous French ally, Sir Connor of Glenshiel kidnaps the knave’s betrothed, heiress Laurien d’Amboise, from the steps of Chartres Cathedral on her wedding day. She is a hostage to be bartered for the freedom of Connor’s beloved Scotland—but the clever, defiant lady has plans of her own. From a besieged French castle to the Scottish Highlands, they’re swept up in dangerous secrets, wild adventure, and a love to last a lifetime.

Chartres, France, 1295

Connor nodded toward the wedding party assembled in the courtyard. “I wonder what causes the delay.”

From their vantage point near the gate’s barbican tower, he and Malcolm had a clear view of the proceedings. De Villiers had appeared and mounted his white horse. Then, when there had been no sign of his bride, he had gone back inside the chateau. A short time later the comte reappeared, and now stood talking quietly to his guards.

“Mayhap the lady has reconsidered,” Malcolm ventured.