his, her blade a blunt instrument compared to his elegant weapon.
“And now, my lady, have you more weapons upon you?”
Morrigan nodded with a sly smile. They played an amusing game, one she knew she should not play, which made it all the more appealing.
“Ah, then let me take a guess. More knives?” Dragonet asked.
Morrigan shook her head.
Dragonet searched her with his eyes and shook his head. “Without a more thorough search of your person, I shall not discover your secrets.”
Morrigan smiled and pulled out a small ax that was strapped to her outer thigh and concealed under her long tunic. She threw it beside the knives. “And ye, sir knight. Do I ken all yer secrets?”
Dragonet shook his head, the reflected flames of the fire dancing in his eyes. “I invite you to discover them as you may.”
Morrigan looked him over but no additional weapons were in sight. Her pulse raced, and she wondered if she had the courage to act out the dreams that had plagued her since meeting her deceptive minstrel. She put her hand to his chest. She dared.
Morrigan ran her hands over his chest and frowned. Slowly pulling up his tunic, she found what she was looking for. Strapped to his leather armor in front and along the sides were a series of small throwing knives. These served a dual purpose of being a weapon and also additional steel plates to enhance his armor. She slowly pulled each one out, throwing them onto the growing pile of weapons.
When she finished she pushed him softly to the ground. He lay on his back without resistance, but she could see he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his armor.
Above him, Morrigan was in control. She moved her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, making a show of searching for more weapons, but in truth delighting in the feel of him. He was a tall, lithe man, but his muscles were pronounced and solid.
“And now?” asked Morrigan. “Have I disarmed ye?”
Dragonet closed his eyes and shook his head no.
Morrigan’s pulse quickened further, and she ran her hands down the outside of his far thigh. She found nothing, so she moved on to the thigh next to her, trying to keep her hands from trembling. Under his tunic, strapped to his outer thigh, was a rondel dagger. She added it to the pile.
He never moved, but his body drew her to him. She lay on her side beside him, unable to pull away. Without opening his eyes he wrapped one arm around her, and she snuggled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. It was wonderful and oh, so wrong. The air around them crackled with danger.
“And now do I ken all yer secrets?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“No. But you have all my weapons.” He reached his other arm around her. “And have I disarmed… what is this?” He pulled a small war hammer attached to her belt at her back. He tossed it on the pile with a flick of his hand. “In all my travels I have never met anyone like you, Lady Morrigan. And now, have I discovered all your weapons?”
“Nay.”
Dragonet gave a soft growl and ran his hands over her back and neck and down both arms, sending happy shivers down her spine.
“I fear searching your person further,” said Dragonet with a slow smile. “For if I give offense, you may use this concealed weapon against me.”
Morrigan reached up and unwound the leather rope with two wooden ends that bound her hair. Her long brown hair spilled over him, and she showed him what was in her hand.
“A garotte ! To strangle impertinent men no doubt. Truth, but you do live up to your namesake.”
Morrigan stiffened. She was not sure being called a demon warrior fell in the category of a compliment.
“A beautiful warrior.” He amended, running his fingers through her hair, softly massaging her head and neck.
The sensations he produced were wickedly arousing. She wanted him. Right there on the forest floor. She knew she should not be anywhere near him, but her rational brain faded into
“And now, my lady, have you more weapons upon you?”
Morrigan nodded with a sly smile. They played an amusing game, one she knew she should not play, which made it all the more appealing.
“Ah, then let me take a guess. More knives?” Dragonet asked.
Morrigan shook her head.
Dragonet searched her with his eyes and shook his head. “Without a more thorough search of your person, I shall not discover your secrets.”
Morrigan smiled and pulled out a small ax that was strapped to her outer thigh and concealed under her long tunic. She threw it beside the knives. “And ye, sir knight. Do I ken all yer secrets?”
Dragonet shook his head, the reflected flames of the fire dancing in his eyes. “I invite you to discover them as you may.”
Morrigan looked him over but no additional weapons were in sight. Her pulse raced, and she wondered if she had the courage to act out the dreams that had plagued her since meeting her deceptive minstrel. She put her hand to his chest. She dared.
Morrigan ran her hands over his chest and frowned. Slowly pulling up his tunic, she found what she was looking for. Strapped to his leather armor in front and along the sides were a series of small throwing knives. These served a dual purpose of being a weapon and also additional steel plates to enhance his armor. She slowly pulled each one out, throwing them onto the growing pile of weapons.
When she finished she pushed him softly to the ground. He lay on his back without resistance, but she could see he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his armor.
Above him, Morrigan was in control. She moved her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, making a show of searching for more weapons, but in truth delighting in the feel of him. He was a tall, lithe man, but his muscles were pronounced and solid.
“And now?” asked Morrigan. “Have I disarmed ye?”
Dragonet closed his eyes and shook his head no.
Morrigan’s pulse quickened further, and she ran her hands down the outside of his far thigh. She found nothing, so she moved on to the thigh next to her, trying to keep her hands from trembling. Under his tunic, strapped to his outer thigh, was a rondel dagger. She added it to the pile.
He never moved, but his body drew her to him. She lay on her side beside him, unable to pull away. Without opening his eyes he wrapped one arm around her, and she snuggled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. It was wonderful and oh, so wrong. The air around them crackled with danger.
“And now do I ken all yer secrets?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“No. But you have all my weapons.” He reached his other arm around her. “And have I disarmed… what is this?” He pulled a small war hammer attached to her belt at her back. He tossed it on the pile with a flick of his hand. “In all my travels I have never met anyone like you, Lady Morrigan. And now, have I discovered all your weapons?”
“Nay.”
Dragonet gave a soft growl and ran his hands over her back and neck and down both arms, sending happy shivers down her spine.
“I fear searching your person further,” said Dragonet with a slow smile. “For if I give offense, you may use this concealed weapon against me.”
Morrigan reached up and unwound the leather rope with two wooden ends that bound her hair. Her long brown hair spilled over him, and she showed him what was in her hand.
“A garotte ! To strangle impertinent men no doubt. Truth, but you do live up to your namesake.”
Morrigan stiffened. She was not sure being called a demon warrior fell in the category of a compliment.
“A beautiful warrior.” He amended, running his fingers through her hair, softly massaging her head and neck.
The sensations he produced were wickedly arousing. She wanted him. Right there on the forest floor. She knew she should not be anywhere near him, but her rational brain faded into
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