The Snow White Bride by Claire Delacroix Page B

Alexander’s caress, making her think of matters more earthy. It was not like her to yearn for a man’s caress. She needed a moment to collect her wits, to think clearly.
    “I am sorry,” Alexander said, and she heard his footsteps as he crossed the floor. “Grant me this chance, Eleanor, to win your regard. Wed me and let me court you abed anew. Let me show you that our nights abed together do not have to repeat our first one.” He offered his hand then and she liked his resolve. “Put your hand in mine, Eleanor, wed me and let us put a poor beginning behind us. It can be done.”
    She straightened. “I had thought you a man to put value in a quest.”
    “And so I am.” He tilted his head to regard her, his eyes dancing with those delightful twinkles again. “Surely it will not be so onerous to have a knight laboring for your favor, all of each day and all of each night.”
    “But you won my smile already. Do not tell me that you have forgotten even your own triumph?”
    He stared at her, aghast, and she knew that he did not recall. Had the potion stolen away his recollection, or was he so careless about winning the favor of women that he would have forgotten even without the potion?
    Eleanor wished she could know the truth.
    She also wished she did not feel so shrewish for having stolen the laughter from his eyes.
    Alexander shoved a hand through his hair. “I am doubly indebted to you then, and must labor stridently to win your favor. I apologize, Eleanor. I do not know what happened to me last night.”
    Eleanor glanced away, awkward in her own knowledge.
    “Allow me the chance to win your favor again.” He bowed deeply over her hand, and should have looked comical in his nudity. Instead, Eleanor was aware of the breadth of him, the strength of him, and the masculinity of him. She desired him with such sudden vigor that s he could not catch her breath. “ Trust that I am at your service, as all men of merit should be at the service of ladies in peril.”
    “I am not in peril,” she corrected hastily.
    Alexander granted her a stem glance. “Of course you are. You are in peril of losing your heart, for I intend to win that prize next . ” He touched his finger to the bare skin revealed above the sheet, touching her just above the place where her heart beat wildly in response to his very presence. “You may be certain that I will never surrender that prize, once it is securely within my grasp.”
    Eleanor felt her eyes widen. She could smell his skin. Warmth emanated from that small point of contact and she saw how Alexander’s eyes darkened to indigo. She licked her lips, unable to not do so, and he watched the tip of her tongue greedily. He whispered her name and stepped closer. She felt his erection against her hip, felt only the smooth barrier of cloth between them, but curiously she had no desire to flee.
    “But why?” she asked, her voice sounding so husky that it might not have been her own.
    He smiled. “Because it is right and proper for a man to hold his lady wife’s heart, just as she should so possess his.”
    Eleanor stared up at him, astonished by his whimsical endorsement of love. She had never been so aware of a man, had never lusted for a man’s touch as she did in this moment. She wanted to meet Alexander abed, this very morning, though she was astonished by the power of her own desire.
    Alexander bent his head and touched his li ps to hers. This kiss was tentative, as if he asked her permission to continue, and its effect was more heady than that of the finest wine.
    Eleanor closed her eyes and lifted her lips more resolutely to his. Alexander’s mouth closed over hers with possessive ease, his hands locked around her waist. He lifted her against his chest and kissed her thoroughly this time.
    Marvel of marvels, Eleanor was not afraid. She opened her mouth, she echoed his every gesture, she tasted of him as he feasted upon her. She forgot herself, her past, her fears, and knew