She tasted like desire, pleasure, apprehension.
He caressed her glorious face, where she bared her heart to him if he looked hard enough.
Wanting her closer, he slid his hands down her back and dragged her in and down onto the bed with him.
“Wolf?” she whispered, withdrawing from their kiss and facing him inches away. “I’m afraid.”
“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe—and if it is not enough, I will myself hurl you through time if it will save you.”
She smiled. “I would prefer you not to hurl me anywhere.”
“Whatever you wish,” he promised, then grimaced at what he was helpless to stop.
She pushed forward and kissed him again, sweeping her tongue inside his mouth with curious, sensuous strokes.
He fought hard to control his desire to lay her down and set himself atop her. He thought of the king and his own vows to God. Unless she agreed to be his wife,becoming one fleshwas not permitted.
“What are you doing to me, Woman?” he moaned and raked his teeth over her chin.
“I didn’t know I was doing anything to you at all,” she leaned up on one elbow and rested on his chest. “Describe it and I’ll tell you if it’s love or a disease.”
He stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “You are doing it this moment.”
She kissed his chin. “What?”
“Rendering me weak, like Samson after Delilah cut off his hair.”
“Do your braids give you power?” she teased, pulling on one.
“My power cannot stand against you alone, Camelee. I need God to help me, but I cannot bring myself to ask Him.”
She ran her fingertips over his lips. “Your words are like beautiful music to my tired ears. I’ll continue to entice you to follow me into the future.”
He kissed her fingers and smiled against them. “I will enjoy the temptation.”
“Yes,” she agreed, and it sounded like a purr. “You will.”
The door burst open and Hild hurried to the bed. Genevra followed close on her heels, flustered and repentant.
“Uf!” the child cried out and stood at the edge of the bed.
“Greetings, Hild,” said Wolf cheerfully.
“Lee sweep with me, not you,” Hild claimed as possessively as any Viking.
“Lee is not going to sleep,” Wolf explained. “We were playing.” He tickled Camelee’s side. She reacted at once, laughing and slapping his hand away.
Hild leaped into the bed and shoved her fingers into his belly like five little blades. He laughed nonetheless, sat up, and showed the four-year-old girl how it was done.
But it was Camelee’s touch that caused Hild to break out in laughter and ticklish giggles.
“It surprises me,” he told Camelee while she sat on the bed with Hild close by.
“What does?”
“How you deny wanting to be a mother, and yet you are winning over an honest little girl.”
“Just because I win her over doesn’t mean I want that title,” she let him know. “It seems very important to you and is therefore yet another obstacle between us.”
