knife sliced into the base of her
thumb. By then she was no longer looking at the knife; she was
watching Magnus, noting the intense expression on his face, the
firm line of his mouth, and the way his shining dark hair lay
smoothly over his skull to end in a precise edge halfway down his
forehead. His eyebrows were drawn together in a slight frown as he
concentrated on what he was doing. His left hand held her wrist in
a firm grip. They were sitting so close their knees were touching,
but Magnus didn't seem to notice.
Lilianne felt an uncomfortable prick as he
caught the piece of wood on the tip of his knife and lifted it out,
but she didn't move.
“There.” He showed her the splinter.
“It's so small to hurt the way it did,” she
exclaimed.
“It was lodged in a sensitive place.” Laying
down the knife, he dipped the napkin into the wine in the pitcher
and dabbed at the cut with the moistened linen. “Press down on that
and it'll soon stop bleeding.”
“I can't press it,” she said. “I'm holding
the candle.”
“So you are.” He pinched out the flame and
took the candleholder from her, placing it on the tray. She
followed every movement of his large, fine hands.
“Drink this,” he commanded, filling the cup
with wine and holding it out to her.
“Why must everything you say to me be an
order?” she asked.
“I hadn't noticed.” His mouth softened into a
rueful smile. “My lady, will you be good enough to sip a bit of
wine? I'm sure you will find it helps to ease any lingering
discomfort in your hand.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she responded,
letting herself relax into an answering smile. “You are most
thoughtful.” Accepting the cup, she took a long gulp of the
wine.
“Thank you, Magnus,” she said again, more
seriously this time. “I’m grateful for your help. How can I repay
you?”
“My usual payment for such a service,” he
said, wondering what her reaction would be, “is a kiss.”
Her gaze locked on his, violet eyes wide, and
Magnus perceived astonishment in those beautiful depths. Her rosy
lips were parted, and he thought he'd perish right there in the
airless little cabin, unless he could press his mouth on those twin
rose petals.
“M-Magnus?”
The surprised question was uttered so softly
that he had to lean closer to hear it. Lilianne smelled of
lavender-scented soap and Magnus knew if he kissed her once, he'd
never want to stop.
“Of course,” he said, “if you prefer to
remain in my debt, you may.”
“Oh, no.” A faint hint of amusement lurked in
her eyes, as if she had decided he was only joking. Her lips tilted
enticingly. “I always pay my debts promptly.”
“What debts could you possibly have?” he
asked.
“Well, I – there’s this.” She held up her
left hand with the napkin still wrapped around it.
“Precisely.” Exerting all his self-control,
he waited to see what she would do next.
She caught her breath, and Magnus was
painfully aware of the movement of her lush bosom under the wool of
her gown. He fought against the urge to push her back onto the bunk
and fling himself on top of her to plunder her sweet, trembling
mouth while he caressed her breasts the way he ached to do. Having
gone so far, he knew he'd have her skirt pushed up in a moment, so
he could see and touch all of her long, curving legs as far as her
ivory thighs. And then, unable to stop himself, he'd—
“Allow me to pay my debt now,” Lilianne
whispered, inching a little closer to him.
Her right hand touched his cheek and Magnus
gritted his teeth to stop the groan he longed to utter. He wished
he could suppress the painfully eager evidence his lower body was
offering in response to Lilianne's nearness.
He couldn't understand his reaction to her.
He’d always been able to manage the hungers of his body, taking his
pleasure where he could while staying in complete control of his
emotions. Only this tall, lusciously female creature threatened to
drive him beyond all
thumb. By then she was no longer looking at the knife; she was
watching Magnus, noting the intense expression on his face, the
firm line of his mouth, and the way his shining dark hair lay
smoothly over his skull to end in a precise edge halfway down his
forehead. His eyebrows were drawn together in a slight frown as he
concentrated on what he was doing. His left hand held her wrist in
a firm grip. They were sitting so close their knees were touching,
but Magnus didn't seem to notice.
Lilianne felt an uncomfortable prick as he
caught the piece of wood on the tip of his knife and lifted it out,
but she didn't move.
“There.” He showed her the splinter.
“It's so small to hurt the way it did,” she
exclaimed.
“It was lodged in a sensitive place.” Laying
down the knife, he dipped the napkin into the wine in the pitcher
and dabbed at the cut with the moistened linen. “Press down on that
and it'll soon stop bleeding.”
“I can't press it,” she said. “I'm holding
the candle.”
“So you are.” He pinched out the flame and
took the candleholder from her, placing it on the tray. She
followed every movement of his large, fine hands.
“Drink this,” he commanded, filling the cup
with wine and holding it out to her.
“Why must everything you say to me be an
order?” she asked.
“I hadn't noticed.” His mouth softened into a
rueful smile. “My lady, will you be good enough to sip a bit of
wine? I'm sure you will find it helps to ease any lingering
discomfort in your hand.”
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she responded,
letting herself relax into an answering smile. “You are most
thoughtful.” Accepting the cup, she took a long gulp of the
wine.
“Thank you, Magnus,” she said again, more
seriously this time. “I’m grateful for your help. How can I repay
you?”
“My usual payment for such a service,” he
said, wondering what her reaction would be, “is a kiss.”
Her gaze locked on his, violet eyes wide, and
Magnus perceived astonishment in those beautiful depths. Her rosy
lips were parted, and he thought he'd perish right there in the
airless little cabin, unless he could press his mouth on those twin
rose petals.
“M-Magnus?”
The surprised question was uttered so softly
that he had to lean closer to hear it. Lilianne smelled of
lavender-scented soap and Magnus knew if he kissed her once, he'd
never want to stop.
“Of course,” he said, “if you prefer to
remain in my debt, you may.”
“Oh, no.” A faint hint of amusement lurked in
her eyes, as if she had decided he was only joking. Her lips tilted
enticingly. “I always pay my debts promptly.”
“What debts could you possibly have?” he
asked.
“Well, I – there’s this.” She held up her
left hand with the napkin still wrapped around it.
“Precisely.” Exerting all his self-control,
he waited to see what she would do next.
She caught her breath, and Magnus was
painfully aware of the movement of her lush bosom under the wool of
her gown. He fought against the urge to push her back onto the bunk
and fling himself on top of her to plunder her sweet, trembling
mouth while he caressed her breasts the way he ached to do. Having
gone so far, he knew he'd have her skirt pushed up in a moment, so
he could see and touch all of her long, curving legs as far as her
ivory thighs. And then, unable to stop himself, he'd—
“Allow me to pay my debt now,” Lilianne
whispered, inching a little closer to him.
Her right hand touched his cheek and Magnus
gritted his teeth to stop the groan he longed to utter. He wished
he could suppress the painfully eager evidence his lower body was
offering in response to Lilianne's nearness.
He couldn't understand his reaction to her.
He’d always been able to manage the hungers of his body, taking his
pleasure where he could while staying in complete control of his
emotions. Only this tall, lusciously female creature threatened to
drive him beyond all
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