Prince of Desire by Donna Grant Page A

stilled. He didn't want to tell her, but it was only fair after their night together and the symbols that now marked them. He turned to look at her and drew in a deep breath.
    “I didna tell you everything last eve because I hoped you meant your words. Now, I’ve no choice since we’ve shared our bodies. Not only will my kingdom cease to exist if you doona return with me, but you’ll never find happiness in another man's arms.”
    Her eyes widened at his words. “Are you so daft that you’ll resort to such hateful words just because I changed my mind?”
    “I wish it were as simple as that. Look at your left arm, Isabelle.”
    She heaved a great sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. “Nay.”
    Lucian nodded his head and removed his jerkin and tunic. “Look,” he said as he pointed to the symbol on his left arm. “You’ll have one as well.”
    “It must have been there last night,” she said as her arms dropped to her sides and confusion marred her stunning face.
    Lucian hated the fear in her beautiful blue eyes. “You touched my body. You tell me. However, if you really want to know, check your arm.”
    For several heartbeats he and Isabelle stared at each other. Silently, he prayed that she would look, and then believe.  
    Isabelle could stand it no longer. The symbol on Lucian's arm matched the one on his saddle, the swirls and knotwork an exact replica. She didn't want to look at her arm for fear of just what she would find. And what would she do if there was a symbol that matched his? Would she then agree to go with him?
    If his words were true and she would never find happiness in the arms of another man, which meant she would spend the rest of her life alone.  
    All because of her fear.
    Before she changed her mind, she rushed into the cottage, yanking her over tunic off as she went. With a vicious jerk, she pulled her chemise down to check her arm. She gasped and fell onto the bed when she saw the black mark that ran from her elbow up to her shoulder.
    “Do you believe me now?” Lucian asked from the doorway.
    She slowly raised her gaze to him. “How?”
    Lucian shut the door and sat beside her on the bed. “It’s our mark, a mark that lets everyone know that our mates have truly been found. No matter how much you try to deny it, Isabelle, your soul knows the truth.”
    Never had so much doubt filled her, not even when her grandparents died and left her alone. There was no denying the mark on her arm. It was as if her soul had branded her. And in a way, that's exactly what it had done. She wasn't ready to believe Lucian, or believe in him, but apparently her soul did.
    Had this happened to anyone else, she would have dismissed the mark, giving any number of explanations as to how it could have appeared. But this was her body. She knew her body, and the mark, a series of intricate knots and spirals that raced up her arm to her shoulder had never been there before she had given herself to Lucian.
    Magic or not, she was most certainly branded. The question was, did she want to put to the test the possibility that she would spend the rest of her life alone? Though she might have told herself she had expected to be alone, after a night with Lucian, she knew she would never settle for a lonely life now.
    He sat patiently waiting on her response. She knew what he wanted, but her apprehension stopped her from readily agreeing to go with him.
    She opened her mouth to tell him just that when his head jerked up and his body stiffened.
    “What is it?” she asked, but he held up a hand to halt her words.
    Three heartbeats later, there was a light knock on her door. “Mr. MacDonald,” she exclaimed and hurriedly pulled up her chemise and threw on her gown. “I was supposed to be at the tavern already.”
    “Dress.   I’ll get the door,” Lucian said and rose.
    As Isabelle hurried to make herself presentable, she heard Lucian's deep voice as he opened the door.   “Can I help you?”
    “Ah…I'm