I'm editing Desire's Hostage (Viking Lore, Book 3) like a madwoman today! It seems only fair to give you a little taste of the torture I've been putting Elisead and Alaric through in this book--here's a little excerpt!
“You were watching me.”
It wasn’t an accusation, for Alaric spoke softly. Yet his hand on her chin forced her to meet his vivid eyes.
Elisead swallowed hard. “I only meant to come to the river for a bath. I didn’t expect to find you here, but you were—”
“Nei, I gathered that,” he said, his gaze flicking for the briefest moment to the bundle of clean clothes she still clutched against herself like a shield. “I mean, why did you continue to watch me when you found me bathing?”
Hot humiliation burned in her throat and stung her eyes. What could she say? That she kept looking because he reminded her of the finest carved stone she could ever imagine? Because he was formed like one of his pagan gods?
It was too much. Her throat closed and her lip trembled again.
Now a look of compassion crossed his once-mirthful eyes—compassion and something else much darker as his gaze dipped to her lower lip, which quivered just above his thumb.
“You’ve never seen a man’s bare body before.”
Again, it wasn’t a question, but unlike before, his voice held an unfathomable suggestion in it.
She shook her head in confirmation, unable to speak.
He breathed a curse. “And I doubt you’ve ever been kissed before either?”
Again, she shook her head. The hot shame from a moment before was transforming into something new. It melted her insides and at the same time knotted them into a tight ball deep in her center.
Alaric pinned her with his gaze, but now all teasing had fled from his emerald eyes.