The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,11

blood roaring in his temples as he drank in the sweetness of her. Such goodness, it flowed through her and into him, warming him as nothing else ever had. The mere touch of her mouth left him stunned and reeling.

He needed to touch her. He allowed his hand to move slowly down her back, drawing her even closer, until he could feel her heartbeat inside his own chest.

He knew he’d overstepped his bounds, but now that he was holding her, kissing her, he couldn’t seem to stop. There was unbelievable sweetness here. Innocence. And just beneath that, a hint of awakening passion.

What would it be like to lose himself in her? To take and give until they were both sated?

As for Kylia, she felt herself sinking sweetly into the kiss as though coming home. Hadn’t she known it would be like this? She’d seen this man’s face, looked into those eyes, since she was a lass. She thought she knew him so well. But kissing him was something more. So very much more. She felt the heat, the need, and then the long, deep tug of desire.

Oh, she didn’t know him at all. This wasn’t just a face, a smile. This was heat and energy and the most amazing blur of color and scent and sound, swirling wildly inside her mind. What she saw, what she felt, left her dizzy and more than a little breathless.

When he heard her moan he stepped back, breaking contact.

As he did, the chanting he’d been hearing in his mind suddenly ceased.

He lifted Kylia to the saddle, then pulled himself up behind her and flicked the reins. Horse and riders shivered at the coolness of the air that surrounded them like a shroud.

Chapter Four

As soon as they could no longer see any sign of the Mystical Kingdom, Kylia fell ominously silent.

Grant tried to imagine what it must be like for her. She had, after all, spent a lifetime in a world far removed from this. She had no concept of hatred or jealousy or warfare. For all of her years she had known only tenderness and kindness and love. And isolation. What would it be like for her to see the many people of his clan? To try to live among them while she sorted out the ones who were loyal and those who would betray him?

Was she already regretting her decision to defy her mother and leave her paradise? He tried to think of something to say that might cheer her.

As the horse picked its way through a steep, narrow trail clogged with boulders, Grant leaned forward. “This would be the ideal time to whistle up your winged horse, my lady.”

She pulled herself back from her thoughts and shivered at the warmth of his breath. She couldn’t ignore the little curl of pleasure along her spine. “With Moonlight at our disposal, we would already be in your Highland lair, my lord.”

“We’d certainly have the attention of all my people. I’m not sure they’d believe even after seeing it.” He touched a hand to her arm. “Are you weary? Would you care to stop and rest?”

Oddly touched by his concern, she shook her head. “I know you’re eager to return to your—” At the stomp and whinny of a horse nearby, her head came up sharply. “It would seem we’re not alone.”

He reined in his mount, for he, too, had heard it. Before he could dismount, the branches of the evergreens around them seemed alive with men slipping from their places of concealment. All were brandishing weapons.

In the blink of an eye Grant had an arm around her waist, lowering her to the ground while shouting, “Run to the cover of the forest!”

Then, seeking to distract the strangers while she escaped, he withdrew his sword and urged his mount forward until he was surrounded by armed men.

Kylia was forced to watch in horror as he plunged into the thick of danger, his blade slashing with deadly accuracy.

For one who had never seen battle, it was awesome to behold a lone warrior standing against more than a dozen fierce-looking barbarians. Some screamed like banshees while others cursed or grunted as they attacked. Though Grant was a skilled warrior, able to dance aside, avoiding the most deadly lunges, the sheer number of attackers began to take their toll on him. The blade of a sword found his shoulder. The tip of a knife his thigh. An arrow sang through the air and pierced his side with a