His scowl deepened. Ronin could find another lass. As for himself, in three hundred years he had never seen another woman he wanted or desired. Only Channa Leigh had touchedhis heart, quickened his need, aroused his desire until it beat within him like the beat of his own heart.
He rose, glad, at that moment, that she could not see the clear evidence of his desire.
She lifted her head. “My lord?”
“I’m going to saddle the horses and load the mule,” he said, his voice curt. “Tis time to go.”
~ * ~
He was in a foul mood the rest of the day, unable to shake off images of Channa Leigh in Ronin’s arms. Channa Leigh, cleaning the hunter’s house, preparing his meals, sleeping in his arms at night. Hah! The craven hunter was not worth a single hair of her head.
Hands clenched around the reins, Darkfest swore he would see the hunter dead before he would allow Channa Leigh to be his bride. And yet, if she cared for Ronin, what right did he have to interfere? What right did he have to keep her from the man she loved? What right, except that he loved her himself, loved her beyond bearing. But she was his now. His until winter cast her shadow upon the land once more. In his heart, he knew it would not be long enough.
~ * ~
Channa Leigh rode beside the wizard, baffled by his silence, by the anger she had heard in his voice earlier that day. She cast back in her mind, but could think of nothing she had said or done to rouse his ire. Still, he had not spoken a word to her since they left their camp that morning and she had no idea why.
Her horse came to a halt a short time later. Channa Leigh’s heart began to pound when she felt Darkfest’s hands at her waist as he lifted her from the saddle.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
He grunted softly. “Tis time to seek shelter for the night.”
“My lord?”
“Aye?”
She took a deep breath. “Are ye…are ye angry with me?”
“Nay.”
“Something is amiss. Will ye not tell me what it is?”
“Ye need not worry.”
“Was it my kiss?” she asked, grateful that she could not see his face. “Did it not please ye?”
“Is that what ye think, lass?” he asked.
She nodded, lowering her head as heat suffused her cheeks.
Whispering her name, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her ever so gently. “Sweet,” he murmured. “So sweet.”
She swayed toward him, her hands resting on his chest. “More.”
He willingly obliged her, his arms wrapping around her waist to draw her closer as he slanted his mouth over hers. Where his last kiss had been gentle, this one was filled with all the yearning in his soul. His tongue plundered her mouth, tasting the berries she had eaten earlier.
She boldly returned his kiss, made a soft sound of protest when he took his mouth from hers.
“Do ye love him?” Darkfest asked.
“Who?”
“The hunter, Ronin.”
“Nay, my lord.”
“And ye do not wish to marry him?”
