Page 47 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

Only my arm between us kept our chests from pressing together as I turned fully in his embrace. He held me tight, strong arms caging me in as if I might flee at any moment. Heat from his body leaped to mine, as warm and enticing as the fires below.

“Leading Sorrena was all I’d ever known, the thing I’d strived for throughout my life. That’s gone.” For now. “The way you look at me, even though I’ve lost what set me apart, makes me think there could be more to me. If there’s more to me, perhaps there’s something more to you as well, more than I let myself see at first.”

“There’s so much more to you, Ilya. How can you not see it? Your fierce heart. Your wit. The way you fight—not bad for someone who’s not a warrior. The way you protect those you care for.” He shook his head. “I can only imagine what goes on inside that head of yours.”

You’d hate me if you knew. Certainly never trust me.Lucien brushed a stray hair back behind my ear. My nerves jumped and tingled in the wake of his calloused fingers.

“And you…what is beyond the war and conquest? Your loyal service?” I asked. Hard muscle met my fingertips through the fine linen of his shirt.

“Things you’ve yet to learn, though I want you to. But one you already know: a man who wants a woman he shouldn’t touch.”

My throat dried, nearly strangling off my words. “Because I’m your hostage?”

His breath warmed my face as he leaned in. “Because I don’t know what’s in that head of yours. Can I trust you, Ilya? Or will you stab me in the back?”

“Lucien…” His eyes held me captive, though everything in me wanted to look away from a man who saw too much.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“My name, on your lips.” He stroked my bottom lip for emphasis. “The most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. Say it again.”

“Lucien.”

His lips stole the last of his name from my tongue in a gentle press that asked more than it took. This kiss was the opposite of the one at the festival. Tender. Light.

I closed my eyes and lost myself in the feel of him, soft yet firm. His hand tangled under my braid, tugging me closer. His body was firm against mine where I stroked the coarse material of his shirt, lavishing the skin stretched over tight muscle below.

My lips spoke many lies, but not my kiss. It was earnest, yearning, aching to give more than I took. Why couldn’t he be just a man? Any other but who he was? He was rough, hard lines to my softness. Darkness to light.

“I want you, Ilya,” he whispered.

I cracked open my eyes. My body turned to goo in his arms at the lusty, hooded look he shot my way. He meant it, still not knowing if I’d turn on him. But I…I felt exactly the same way. There was no logic to it, no reason. Only want, need, and desire consuming me from within.

“I’m yours, Lucien.”

Our gazes locked. I waited for him to kiss me again, to touch me, but he stood still as a statue. Until he crouched, slipped one strong arm behind my knees, and tilted me into his waiting embrace. I wrapped my arms around his neck, seeking purchase and security. In a heartbeat, I was in his arms, hovering above the stone tile as he carried me into the bedroom. His rapid pulse warred against mine.

“Lucien, where are…” My words trailed off as I eyed the object he advanced toward. The bed. Lightning raced under my skin, moisture grew between my legs.

With infinite care, he set me down upon silken furs, my feet dangling over one edge. But he didn’t rise to crawl atop me, he knelt at my feet.

I bit my lip as he inched the hem of my dress up to my knees, exposing my sandaled legs.

His lips twitched. “Intriguing,” he said, pulling one long leather strip to release the binding on my calves. “Once the resting season comes, we’ll have to find you something warmer.”

“We’ll?” I questioned, near breathless as he removed one sandal then started on the other.

“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you freeze.”

“A gentleman now, is it? Not a warlord?”

He tugged the other shoe, tossing it behind him as he gazed up at me with a smirk. “I thought you wanted to discover what I was? Maybe I’m many things other than what the world sees.”

“So you say, but what are they?” I slid my legs onto the bed, relishing the tickle of fur across my skin as he worked at the ties on his own boots.

“I love poetry, if that surprises you.”

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