Fiery Fate by Jaci Burton

Roarke threw open the door. She tried to keep her eyes focused on his face, except he wore only half-laced breeches and no shirt. His chest gleamed strong and smooth in the light of the hallway.
    “What do you want?”
    His gruff voice nearly scattered her flagging courage. “I need to speak with you.”
    “See me in the morning. I’m busy right now.”
    He made to close the door. “Roarke, please. It’s urgent.” With a resigned sigh he motioned her inside and shut the door. “It’s very late and you should not be here in my room.”
    She walked in, her gaze gravitating to the huge bed in the middle of the room. Fur coverlets looked warm and inviting. Shaking off thoughts of Roarke’s bed and the endless possibilities of what they could do there, she stepped in front of the hearth and warmed her cold hands, preferring to stare into the flames rather than his half-naked body. “I have something important to tell you.”
    “I think we’ve said enough.”

    “This is not about you and me.”
    “Then what is it? And will you turn around? I find it difficult to converse with your backside.” She whipped around and looked at his face. He had stepped close to her, so close the golden flecks in his eyes glowed from the firelight. Shots of molten heat emanated from his gaze.
    She swallowed past the dry lump in her throat and concentrated on his face, rather than his bronzed chest. Except his face was a work of art, too, his angular features accentuated by his closely trimmed beard. She remembered the softness of his beard against her thighs, and clamped her legs together to ward off the moisture gathering there.
    Unfortunately, she could do nothing about her nipples beading against her thin gown.
    Roarke must have noticed, because he dropped his gaze to her chest, then back up again at her face.
    “Make it quick, Solara.”
    “It’s…it’s about Noele. She is with child.”
    His eyes widened. “Are you certain of this?”
    “Aye. She told me tonight.”
    “Does Garick know?”
    She shook her head. “No. She did not tell him before he left for Greenbriar.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because she was afraid he would not go if she told him. She feared for D’Naath if Braedon was not advised of the delay.”
    He did not have to say the words, because she felt them within herself. Because of her.
    “And what problem does this present? She can simply tell him upon his return.” Obviously Roarke failed to see the urgency in getting Garick to return. “Garick should be alerted so that he can immediately return to Winterland. He belongs here, with his wife and child.”
    “That is not possible.”
    “Please, Roarke. Can’t you ride out and bring him back?”
    “Is everything so simple to you, Solara? I cannot leave Winterland. I am sworn to protect it during Garick’s absence.”
    “Then send a few of the guards to catch up to him. He would be delayed in D’Naath for a day.”
    “No. We can spare no guards. Besides, it would do no good. Garick must go to Greenbriar with haste.
    He will not stay even a day in D’Naath, merely alert your parents to your disappearance and move on to the southern lands. Braedon must be told immediately.”
    “Oh, why must we have all this ritual and custom? If I was not expected on a certain day, this would have been much simpler.”
    “If you had stayed here and left for Greenbriar when you should have, there would be no problem.”
    “If you hadn’t touched me, perhaps I would have.”
    His eyes widened. Her fingers brushed over her lips, unable to believe what she’d just uttered.
    If she had but one wish right now, it would be to take back what she had just said.

    * * * * *
Roarke stared speechless at Solara, unable to find a retort for her revelation.
    Because of him she’d run off? Because of him she had not wanted to go to Greenbriar?
    “If I hadn’t touched you. Care to explain that?”
    Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she looked down. “No. ’Twas