Always Mine by Sophia Johnson

softness. She forced her gaze from his lips. Why did she have this insane urge to taste them?
    His energy flowed over every inch of her, feeling like lightning strikes. Pivoting on her heel, she sprinted for the door.
    She felt his heated gaze explore her back.
    Damron had not missed the tension that rippled through Brianna when he pressed close to her at the stall. Nor did he miss seeing her nostrils flare, catching his scent, as he studied her profile.
    Had she known he was speaking of her while stroking the mare, she would have run from him as swiftly as a hare from a hunting dog. ’Twas her dainty neck and beautiful face he admired. Her skin that he found soft as velvet when his hands had roamed over her checking for injuries after her fall.
    ALWAYS MINE
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    He had not missed the heat that built and radiated from her, nor the quiver that ran through her when she scoffed that he would not talk that sweetly to a woman. Her pupils had dilated, ever so slightly, when she studied his face.
    On eyeing his lips, the tip of her tongue had moistened her own. He had no doubt that along with her fiery nature would come an equally heated passion. And, with God’s help, ’twas she who would bear him noble offspring, did she but know it.
    For several hours, Brianna and Elise roamed the floors of the castle, climbed the winding stairways and opened doors to look in each room.
    “Elise, why are there no rushes on the other floors?” From all she knew of the period, it was the custom to cover the floor space with them. They collected debris pitched from careless hands, and the leavings of the hounds and falcons. “And how is it that everyone seems to bathe frequently?” From what she had read of the eleventh century, they were afraid of bathing.
    “Why, because of your Nathaniel, of course.” Elise stared at her with worried eyes.
    “My Nathaniel?”
    “Do not tell me you forgot Nathaniel?” Elise gasped, sounding both scandalized and horrified simultaneously.
    “Indulge me. My mind is a little foggy today.” She took hold of Elise’s arm, for she looked ready to take off at a run to fetch Lady Maud.
    “Ever since I can remember, you have always called Lord Bleddyn your ‘Nathaniel.’ You allowed no other to call him such. If we did, you wrestled us onto the ground for the doing.” She eyed Lydia warily. “Do you remember now?”
    When Lydia shook her head, Elise sighed. “He believes dirty rushes cause diseases. Mother has the rushes in the great
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    Sophia Johnson
    hall changed often. And Bleddyn claims bathing will not open the body to ill humors but will aid in healing wounds.”
    Lord Bleddyn? That hadn’t told Lydia anything, because she still didn’t know who he was by either name Elise called him. She knew better than to question her further, for the girl was already peeking warily at her from the corner of her eye.
    When they reached the top floor, they stepped out on the walkway that bordered the inner bailey and connected the main building to the tower housing the buttery and pantry.
    The wind pulled their hair and whipped their clothes about their legs. Lydia felt a jolt of panic, remembering another time of standing high above a castle and feeling the wind take control of her body. She grabbed the wooden railing.
    She sensed someone’s gaze and glanced at the opposite walkway. Damron watched her. She turned her back on him, squared her shoulders, then followed Elise to the outer bailey.
    Before going below, she stopped to study the view.
    At the far corner of the outer bailey was a small orchard.
    As she admired the denseness of the trees, she was startled by a vision of herself laughing as Galan chased her among them.
    When he caught her, his warm lips kissed her forehead.
    Shock jolted through her. What was between Brianna and Galan?
    The vision left as quickly as it came. She took a deep breath and held to the wall, calming herself with the view.
    The land was beautiful. Green fields stretched to