Love's Call by C. A. Szarek Page A

says my part in this is a ruse.” Jorrin put his palms up. “Anyway, it was just a suggestion. Not my fault if you don’t like it.”
    Leargan scowled, then and now.
    Air rushing from his lungs yanked him from his memories. He stumbled.
    He’d run into someone in the corridor.
    At the muttered exclamation of surprise, he blindly reached to steady the other person.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, meeting his eyes.
    The Blessed Spirit is laughing at you, Leargan Tegran .
    Leargan fell into the blue-green orbs. He swallowed and shook himself. “Are you all right?” He screamed at himself to focus, sucking in a breath.
    His shoulder smarted, but with the jarring impact, Ansley had probably bruised her cheek. Leargan’s hand rested on her upper arm, and he stared there for a moment, before withdrawing it. He smiled at the blush that lit her cheeks. She was charming. The mix of innocence and toughness was intriguing.
    Perhaps he wouldn’t be opposed to having her as his wife. King Nathal had chosen well for him. But could Ansley even fathom it? The suggestion—or order , as it were—would be out of the blue to her. She thought she was in Greenwald simply to visit old friends.
    What the hell are you thinking?
    Obviously Ansley wasn’t the only one affected by their collision.
    Visions of her crimson cheeks, heavy-lidded eyes and naked body flitted through his mind.
    His damn dreams.
    The short period of only three days, since they’d been introduced on the road in the dark, did nothing to prevent his lust for her. Even the innocent touch on her arm made him want more.
    Pull her to him. Feel her lush curves against his chest. Kiss her. Touch her.
    He shifted his boots. Strong restraint kept him from tugging her into his arms right then and kissing the blush off her cheeks. Then he would capture her lips properly—
    “I’m fine. Are you?” Ansley’s soft voice pulled him from his desires.
    Leargan’s neck burned. “Aye.” He cleared his throat. “You hit my shoulder. Are you sure you’re all right?” He cupped her face, tilting her cheek up so he could examine it.
    His gaze slid to her lips and his throat went dry as Ansley’s tongue darted out.
    Pink. Wet .
    Every fiber in his being wanted to kiss her.
    He tore his eyes from her mouth and met hers.
    “I…I…I’m fine… really .” She gently pushed his hand away.
    “Should we find Lord Dagget?”
    “No, no. I’m fine, Sir Tegran, honestly.”
    “Leargan.”
    “W-w-what?”
    “I believe I told you to call me Leargan,” he chided.
    Crimson on her cheeks went a deeper shade, and he thanked the Blessed Spirit right then and there for the sunshine coming in the wide corridor windows. He wouldn’t have wanted to miss the expression on her beautiful face.
    “Sorry, Sir Te—I mean, Leargan.”
    “Are you sure you didn’t bump your head?” he asked.
    She looked down, and his stomach roiled. He’d not meant the tease to hurt her feelings.
    Leargan guided her face back up. His apology evaporated on his tongue. He sank into teal eyes.
    He lowered his head, brushing his lips against the cheek that had slammed into his shoulder instead.
    Ansley’s eyes widened but she didn’t move away from him, so he gave in to his desire to kiss her.
    He drew her close, jumping when she wrapped her arms tentatively around his waist. He captured her lips, trembling at her softness. The gentle sweep of their mouths previewed how she tasted.
    More.
    Leargan needed more.
    He molded her to him. Full breasts flattened to his hard chest, her firm stomach against his abdominal muscles, her pelvis against his.
    His blood sang and his manhood stood at attention, straining against his breeches as desire stole his thoughts. Tracing her lips, he held back a moan when she finally let him in. As she timidly touched her tongue to his, Leargan plunged into her mouth, exploring her sweetness.
    Ansley mated her tongue to his and he groaned against her lips. The innocence in her kiss