dreams and her wishing powers away. By now, she had forgotten her made-up incantations, and as for heroes, she had come to learn that they were even scarcer than real dragons.
No, she thought with a sigh as she gazed out over the dark landscape, the cavalry wasn’t coming. No one was going to ride to her rescue. It was up to her to save her clan.
An image of Edward the Minotaur rose in her mind with a surge of distress. Oh, if any of those silly old spells still worked…
Knowing it was sheer foolishness, she closed her eyes and for one moment—just for old times’ sake—made a wish with all her might.
Perhaps her need floated up to the stars and out across the ornamental water, as insubstantial as dandelion fluff, but you never knew. You just never knew…
She listened.
She waited.
She held her breath.
Nothing.
Well, naturally.
But then—her eyes still closed—she went stock-still, suddenly sensing a presence.
Her straining ears detected the scarcely audible creaking of the floorboards behind her.
“How did you get here before me?” a deep voice asked in a playful murmur that was all of a sudden right by her ear. Her jaw dropped as warm, strong arms smoothly encircled her waist.
Her eyes flew open and she looked down in wonder. Big, sun-tanned hands had wrapped around her with a tender motion, sturdy forearms sheathed in smart sleeves with handsome, gold-trimmed cuffs.
She stared down at them, slack-jawed.
How can this be?
Her wish could not
possibly
have come true. She wasn’t even sure what she had wished for!
Is this real?
Can this be happening?
The tall male form behind her certainly felt solid and powerful, radiating warmth; she leaned back slightly against him, just to make sure.
Egads, there was a man behind her!
She was in somebody’s arms! And it wasn’t Edward.
The air in her lungs fairly evaporated from her astonishment. She started to turn around with great indignation and then stopped abruptly, afraid the dream might dissipate. For it was then that the greatest shock of all came: the realization that it felt splendid, achingly wonderful to be held this way.
How many years had it been since someone had held her?
“You were supposed to wait, my girl,” he chided in a teasing whisper, leaning down to brush his lips along the curve of her ear. “But I suppose you couldn’t contain yourself, hm?”
Lily tensed, tongue-tied and quite baffled. Her heart was slamming in her chest, just above the cloud of butterflies dancing in her belly.
Oh, dear.
It struck her with some nervous hilarity that her visitor obviously had the wrong lady and hadn’t quite noticed it yet. Ah, yes—costume ball. Oh, how exceedingly awkward. Perhaps she should have been outraged, but his touch felt so,
so
good.
The big, sun-tanned hands had begun slowly stroking her bare arms, up and down, seductively. She swallowed hard and succumbed to a violent shudder.
Goodness.
His touch bespoke total self-assurance, and if there was any doubt left in her mind who had captured her, it fled when she caught the faint whiff of some exotic incense that clung to his uniform. Sandalwood, maybe.
Just arrived from India…
Dear Lord, she was out here alone with “the stud of the Season.”
Major Derek Knight.
“So, are you going to kiss me or what?” he whispered, and Lily simply melted at the question. Her heated blood and her heart answered in reckless unison—
how could she not?
This was madness.
She was not the woman he had come out to meet, but he had her full attention at the moment, and, God help her, her attraction to him was painfully acute. Oh, yes. In that moment, she made the conscious decision to let him do it if he wished. How wicked, how wonderful, what a perfect dream to be kissed by a handsome stranger in the moonlight, a bold hero from faraway lands—just this once, taking this one chance, before she had to do her duty by her family and marry someone she could never love.
There was no danger
No, she thought with a sigh as she gazed out over the dark landscape, the cavalry wasn’t coming. No one was going to ride to her rescue. It was up to her to save her clan.
An image of Edward the Minotaur rose in her mind with a surge of distress. Oh, if any of those silly old spells still worked…
Knowing it was sheer foolishness, she closed her eyes and for one moment—just for old times’ sake—made a wish with all her might.
Perhaps her need floated up to the stars and out across the ornamental water, as insubstantial as dandelion fluff, but you never knew. You just never knew…
She listened.
She waited.
She held her breath.
Nothing.
Well, naturally.
But then—her eyes still closed—she went stock-still, suddenly sensing a presence.
Her straining ears detected the scarcely audible creaking of the floorboards behind her.
“How did you get here before me?” a deep voice asked in a playful murmur that was all of a sudden right by her ear. Her jaw dropped as warm, strong arms smoothly encircled her waist.
Her eyes flew open and she looked down in wonder. Big, sun-tanned hands had wrapped around her with a tender motion, sturdy forearms sheathed in smart sleeves with handsome, gold-trimmed cuffs.
She stared down at them, slack-jawed.
How can this be?
Her wish could not
possibly
have come true. She wasn’t even sure what she had wished for!
Is this real?
Can this be happening?
The tall male form behind her certainly felt solid and powerful, radiating warmth; she leaned back slightly against him, just to make sure.
Egads, there was a man behind her!
She was in somebody’s arms! And it wasn’t Edward.
The air in her lungs fairly evaporated from her astonishment. She started to turn around with great indignation and then stopped abruptly, afraid the dream might dissipate. For it was then that the greatest shock of all came: the realization that it felt splendid, achingly wonderful to be held this way.
How many years had it been since someone had held her?
“You were supposed to wait, my girl,” he chided in a teasing whisper, leaning down to brush his lips along the curve of her ear. “But I suppose you couldn’t contain yourself, hm?”
Lily tensed, tongue-tied and quite baffled. Her heart was slamming in her chest, just above the cloud of butterflies dancing in her belly.
Oh, dear.
It struck her with some nervous hilarity that her visitor obviously had the wrong lady and hadn’t quite noticed it yet. Ah, yes—costume ball. Oh, how exceedingly awkward. Perhaps she should have been outraged, but his touch felt so,
so
good.
The big, sun-tanned hands had begun slowly stroking her bare arms, up and down, seductively. She swallowed hard and succumbed to a violent shudder.
Goodness.
His touch bespoke total self-assurance, and if there was any doubt left in her mind who had captured her, it fled when she caught the faint whiff of some exotic incense that clung to his uniform. Sandalwood, maybe.
Just arrived from India…
Dear Lord, she was out here alone with “the stud of the Season.”
Major Derek Knight.
“So, are you going to kiss me or what?” he whispered, and Lily simply melted at the question. Her heated blood and her heart answered in reckless unison—
how could she not?
This was madness.
She was not the woman he had come out to meet, but he had her full attention at the moment, and, God help her, her attraction to him was painfully acute. Oh, yes. In that moment, she made the conscious decision to let him do it if he wished. How wicked, how wonderful, what a perfect dream to be kissed by a handsome stranger in the moonlight, a bold hero from faraway lands—just this once, taking this one chance, before she had to do her duty by her family and marry someone she could never love.
There was no danger
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