– ‘The Magic of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –
Today I’m on the ‘Her Dark Knight’s Redemption’ blogtour, organised by Rachel’s Random Resources.
About the Author :
“This man was shadow and night. He was Darkness.”
Homeless Aliette is saved from punishment for stealing by a mysterious knight. To stay alive, she’s informed by this stranger that she must claim his child as her own. She should fear the dark knight’s power, yet it’s clear there’s more good to this man than he’s prepared to show. Can she break down the barriers of the tortured knight she calls Darkness?
In a private library in Paris, a scene between the hero/a villain Reynold, who kidnapped the heroine/a thief, Aliette. Here is an argument that turns into a kiss, that turns into….
Reynold’s eyes narrowed; his jaw clenched. Victory. He hated when she withheld opinions. But he held his secrets. With so much was at stake, Aliette deserved to know.
Ignoring his glare, she strode to one of the tables, found exactly the book she wanted and sat down on the bench to read.
She didn’t need to look at the man behind the desk to know her deeds struck him. He didn’t like secrets of any sort and this one she’d delighted to withhold from him over the last sennight.
‘You’re reading a book,’ he said.
‘You taught me.’ Days at his side, she’d learned his ability to wait was a tactic. She didn’t lift her eyes. This time, she would wait. She turned a page, then another. All the while she felt his gaze on her.
‘For how long?’ he said.
‘A while now.’
Even sitting as she was and him half-hidden, she could feel the tension, see him vibrating with some unknown force. He more than flexed his fingers now, he clenched his burned fist. ‘You had me reading to you.’
She lifted a shoulder and turned another page.
‘Why did you pick that book?’
Because since the first day he had brought her in here he’d kept picking up this particular book and setting it down. Because he looked tortured, knowing this story existed. Out of all the stories in this room he avoided this one and she didn’t know why. It was a secret and she wanted him to break. She’d do anything for her family. Needed to know the danger they were in.
‘I like the title: The Odyssey,’ she said.
‘There are other more interesting stories.’
‘I don’t think so.’ She closed the book, ran a hand down its spine. ‘It’s lovely. Far lovelier than anything else in here. Why is that?’
He now rubbed his thumb along the burn in his hand. ‘I had it commissioned.’
Wealth. She knew he had it in abundance, but this was something else. He loved his books…and so he had them made. ‘You ordered this book made.’
‘From some monks at a monastery in Spain.’
‘Have you ordered others?’
At his curt nod, she looked around his room, then down at her lap. ‘Where are those?’
He made some sound from his chest. As though he was surprised, and pleased. ‘Those I gave to the monks at the monastery.’
‘Were they expecting that?’
‘What do you think?’
She thought it made him angry and uneasy he was sharing details of his life. Especially details that displayed a more generous man than she would have guessed. But he did it in some vague desperation to stop her reading this story.
So she returned to reading the story. ‘It seems to be about a husband trying to return to his wife.’
‘A trivial endeavour. If you can read, there are tales here worthy of your new skill.’
But he had the book made, unlike the others. She flipped through the pages. ‘Odysseus suffered to return to Penelope, didn’t he? It reads his mother died of grief while he was gone. He must have been gone for a long time.’ A few more pages. ‘Oh! He lost some ships. Did he make it to his wife? Perhaps I should read the ending first.’
He slapped his hand on his desk. ‘Put it away—it’s not yours.’
Ah. ‘You took me and my family away from our life, from our things. You told me I had no choice. None of this is mine, you made sure of that. This book.’ She set the book down and stood. Her fingers went to the laces on her gown. ‘The clothes I’m wearing aren’t—’
‘Stop!’ His chair banged against the wall as Reynold stood. Swift strides and he was grasping her arms in his calloused hands. ‘You have changed everything. Everything! And you’re not even aware of it.’
A quick yank that lifted her to her toes, a growl, and his lips slammed to hers. To take as she had. His game, his life. To punish. Because he could do it no other way.
But punishment turned to desire, to lust as her lips and her body yielded. Her slight body pressed to his, shivered, his hands drawing her closer, wanting those trembles to be his as well. His.
Win 5 x PB copies of Her Dark Knight’s Redemption (Open INT)
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