The Conquest by Julia Templeton

was the slightest pressure of his lips against hers, and as small as that response was, it was still a response.
    She held on to the horse’s mane with one hand, while the other pressed flush against his chest. Boldly, her tongue stroked the seam of his lips and he made a purely masculine sound, a deep-throated moan that mingled with her sigh. His mouth opened and his tongue traced the recesses of her mouth.
    Never could she have understood the intimacy of a kiss, and how truly beautiful it felt to share such an act with someone she cared for.
    And she did care for this English knight who had been a stranger to her the day before.
    One of his strong hands moved up her side, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest and she could feel his racing against her palm.
    The sky opened up, rain falling down on them in large drops, but she didn’t care. In fact, it only added to the intensity of the moment.
    Adelstan’s fingers tightened around her arms, and he abruptly pulled away, breathing hard, looking at her with a startled expression.
    She could see the realization of what they had done on his handsome face. His throat convulsed as he swallowed hard, his gaze shifting to her lips before shaking his head as though to clear it. “We cannot do this, Rhiannon. I have a duty to my liege to bring you back to Almeron so you can marry Lord Malgor. You must never speak to anyone about this, not even your maid, is that understood?”
    Her heart plummeted to her feet. For a second she had experienced paradise and she didn’t want it to end.
    Rhiannon lifted her lips to his again, but he shook his head. Even his eyes had changed. “Nay, we cannot.”
    Her pride bruised, Rhiannon faced forward, her hands returning to her lap, her back ramrod straight.
    “You can lean against me, Rhiannon.”
    “Nay,” she said firmly, not caring if she sounded like a child.
    “Rhiannon.”
    “I—I made a mistake, and I hope ye do not think less of me for it.”
     
    * * *
     
    Adelstan’s mind and body had never been in such conflict. He had gone to the pond to bathe and to rid his mind of the images of Rhiannon as they had danced last night. Everything from her smile to her sweet laughter had replayed in his mind since meeting her, making sleep nearly impossible.
    Never had he imagined to be in such a quandary. His orders had been clear—bring Lord Malgor’s betrothed to him at Almeron, safe and sound. That was it, plain and simple, then he would return to his life at Braemere.
    And what did he do but kiss the very woman he had sworn to protect.
    Fool.
    Why had he not just accepted the hot bath the servant had so generously offered upon waking? Adelstan had declined, knowing a morning swim would not only ease his warring emotions but cool his heated body. And the swim had indeed done him good. He had left the pond resolved to do his duty by his liege, and to look at Rhiannon MacKay as he would any other married woman.
    And yet when he came upon Rhiannon and her maid on the road back to the castle, he’d wondered why fate would put her in his path at the very moment he had pledged not to touch her.
    A difficult thing when she stood before him soaked to the skin, her yellow gown clinging to her charms. It had been impossible to look away from her full, high breasts and the rose-colored nipples that had pebbled from the cold, poking against the fabric.
    And he had felt those nipples pressed against his chest when she kissed him. Even now his lips tingled from that kiss, and for the life of him, he couldn’t put two words together. The sky crackled again, and he tightened his hold around her, resisting the urge to rest his hands on her thighs.
    Such young, firm thighs. He envisioned those same thighs, spread wide to receive him.
    He closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying hard not to think of her naked. He had seen the look in her eyes, knew she would not deny him.
    She is another man’s