Read Online The Falcon and the Flower by Virginia Henley - Free Book Online
Authors: Virginia Henley
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princess.”
She pulled away from him sharply. “You are the one playing cruel games. You know very well who I am. You know I am a real princess and I know you are Satan,” she whispered, looking frantically about for some means of escape.
“I am a knight,” he said flatly.
“’T is a guise. A knight in shining armor come to aid a damsel in distress.”
The corners of his mouth twitched at the absurdity of it all. “Shall I slay the dragon for you and lay my heart at your feet, my princess?”
Her eyes were filled with dread. “What forfeit will you take to release me? Another kiss?”
“Since you are a thousand times more beautiful than you were the other night, I claim a thousand kisses.” He pulled her against him, unable to keep his hands from her any longer. His fingers caressed her silvery, silken hair, then his lips covered the soft pink mouth whose taste he craved. With his mouth upon hers, he recalled that he had dreamed of her all night, and hot desire flooded his veins. The tip of his tongue tried to enter her delicious mouth, but she wrenched from him and gasped,
“You are the Devil!”
This time he took her mouth ruthlessly, invading the virgin territory. “Yes,” he said in a hard, cruel voice. “I am the Prince of Darkness. I am here to carry you off to my underworld where I will ravish you nightly and keep you captive forevermore.”
Jasmine gasped, alarmingly short of breath, then she slumped forward into a faint.
He caught her before she slipped to the ground. His face filled with awe as he drank in the beauty of his delicate burden. Never in his life had he been filled with such an intense need to protect and cherish. She was so small she seemed weightless. Her skin was like porcelain where the golden crescents of her eyelashes rested upon her cheeks. He held his breath in case she disappeared into thin air, then he found his chest so tight he could not take another breath. What the Devil was the matter with him? His head filled with the pretty scent of her until he actually felt dizzy. He stared at her in fascination, noting the delicious pinkness of her mouth, the delicate size of her wrists, which made her seem fragile enough to be broken into pieces if he grasped her too hard. Her hair was the color of moonbeams, and he shuddered as the silken mass fell over his hands. Lust hit him like a thunderbolt. A childhood legend fleeted through his head in which the beautiful princess could be awakened by a kiss. He shook his head, fearing he had been spellbound. He came out of his trance and realized that she was not going to revive and that he must get her to the castle.
He quickly tied the palfrey’s reins to his saddle, ignoring the fact that the wolves’ blood was making the small horse very nervous, then he swept the girl before him on his destrier and cradled her limp form with one strong arm. The great horse’s hooves struck sparks on the cobblestones of the courtyard as he drew rein and swept his limp burden into the great hall.
Isobel saw him immediately and hurried forward. “Jasmine! Dear God, has there been an accident?”
“Nay, Lady Isobel, somehow I frightened her so much she has fainted,” he said, trying to squelch his anxiety.
“Oh, poor little rabbit! I will take her to the women’s quarters. Perhaps it was the heat.” She quickly summoned two servants to carry Jasmine, and the serving women held out their arms expectantly.
Falcon was loathe to relinquish the delicate beauty, but under the circumstances he had no choice. Isobel followed the women up the staircase and said over her shoulder, “You had best beware Dame Winwood if she knows you have frightened her grandaughter.”
He stood in the hall feeling almost bereft. Jasmine … her name was Jasmine. After a few minutes Ela came to keep him company and to reassure him that all was well.
“She will be fine, milord. The dear little lamb was frightened out of her mind.”
“Who is she?” de Burgh
She pulled away from him sharply. “You are the one playing cruel games. You know very well who I am. You know I am a real princess and I know you are Satan,” she whispered, looking frantically about for some means of escape.
“I am a knight,” he said flatly.
“’T is a guise. A knight in shining armor come to aid a damsel in distress.”
The corners of his mouth twitched at the absurdity of it all. “Shall I slay the dragon for you and lay my heart at your feet, my princess?”
Her eyes were filled with dread. “What forfeit will you take to release me? Another kiss?”
“Since you are a thousand times more beautiful than you were the other night, I claim a thousand kisses.” He pulled her against him, unable to keep his hands from her any longer. His fingers caressed her silvery, silken hair, then his lips covered the soft pink mouth whose taste he craved. With his mouth upon hers, he recalled that he had dreamed of her all night, and hot desire flooded his veins. The tip of his tongue tried to enter her delicious mouth, but she wrenched from him and gasped,
“You are the Devil!”
This time he took her mouth ruthlessly, invading the virgin territory. “Yes,” he said in a hard, cruel voice. “I am the Prince of Darkness. I am here to carry you off to my underworld where I will ravish you nightly and keep you captive forevermore.”
Jasmine gasped, alarmingly short of breath, then she slumped forward into a faint.
He caught her before she slipped to the ground. His face filled with awe as he drank in the beauty of his delicate burden. Never in his life had he been filled with such an intense need to protect and cherish. She was so small she seemed weightless. Her skin was like porcelain where the golden crescents of her eyelashes rested upon her cheeks. He held his breath in case she disappeared into thin air, then he found his chest so tight he could not take another breath. What the Devil was the matter with him? His head filled with the pretty scent of her until he actually felt dizzy. He stared at her in fascination, noting the delicious pinkness of her mouth, the delicate size of her wrists, which made her seem fragile enough to be broken into pieces if he grasped her too hard. Her hair was the color of moonbeams, and he shuddered as the silken mass fell over his hands. Lust hit him like a thunderbolt. A childhood legend fleeted through his head in which the beautiful princess could be awakened by a kiss. He shook his head, fearing he had been spellbound. He came out of his trance and realized that she was not going to revive and that he must get her to the castle.
He quickly tied the palfrey’s reins to his saddle, ignoring the fact that the wolves’ blood was making the small horse very nervous, then he swept the girl before him on his destrier and cradled her limp form with one strong arm. The great horse’s hooves struck sparks on the cobblestones of the courtyard as he drew rein and swept his limp burden into the great hall.
Isobel saw him immediately and hurried forward. “Jasmine! Dear God, has there been an accident?”
“Nay, Lady Isobel, somehow I frightened her so much she has fainted,” he said, trying to squelch his anxiety.
“Oh, poor little rabbit! I will take her to the women’s quarters. Perhaps it was the heat.” She quickly summoned two servants to carry Jasmine, and the serving women held out their arms expectantly.
Falcon was loathe to relinquish the delicate beauty, but under the circumstances he had no choice. Isobel followed the women up the staircase and said over her shoulder, “You had best beware Dame Winwood if she knows you have frightened her grandaughter.”
He stood in the hall feeling almost bereft. Jasmine … her name was Jasmine. After a few minutes Ela came to keep him company and to reassure him that all was well.
“She will be fine, milord. The dear little lamb was frightened out of her mind.”
“Who is she?” de Burgh
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