Free Time Travel Romances Boxed Set by Claire Delacroix

accent,” the priest hissed. “When she gets
ticked off “ - he snapped his fingers - “ it’s midwest twang all
over.”
    The priest shook his head and shoved his
hands into his pockets, the very image of a discouraged man. “I
can’t figure out why he can’t see that she’s not his type at all.”
He sighed. “It’s Jessica all over again.”
    And who was Bard’s type, to the priest’s
mind?
    A woman with a prestigious family. A woman
with a powerful father. A woman with a property Bard wanted.
    A woman just like Aurelia.
    Knowing it had been done a thousand times
before did not make the reality any easier to face. Aurelia’s heart
trembled at the prospect of being wed to a deceitful murderer, a
conqueror with an iron will and an enchanting kiss.
    Against her volition.
    And apparently against Bard’s. But this
priest was powerful, that much Aurelia knew already. Bard had
staged her reawakening to comply with the prophecy of her birth,
evidently at the priest’s bidding - or at least, he had not fought
the priest on this.
    Was he already bowing to the priest’s
scheme?
    Bard wanted Dunhelm and at any cost, Aurelia
knew that. And with her father missing, Bard could secure his
ascendancy over Dunhelm by marrying the former king’s daughter.
    Aurelia swallowed and let the drape slide
through her fingers. Her imagination supplied the image of Bard
nude in this bed once more.
    Except this time, his hand was on her own
bare hip. Aurelia felt the strong imprint of his lips moving
against hers, felt again the weight of his hands locked around her
waist.
    It was Bard’s fault that her thoughts were
muddled, Aurelia concluded savagely. His kiss had confused her.
    No. Liking his kiss had confused her.
    Aurelia crushed the rich fabric in her hand.
She hated that she had already been so readily manipulated. Would
she be able to resist Bard’s charm if it was turned fully upon her?
Or would her feminine weakness betray both her and her family?
    She suddenly became aware that the silence
between herself and the priest had stretched overly long, and
rushed to fill it with the first thought that came to mind.
    “ My mother oft said that
men do not marry their whores.” Aurelia heard a sharpness in her
voice that she had not intended. “Even if they indulge
them.”
    The priest chuckled and watched her with
twinkling eyes. “Why would a man buy the cow when he can have the
milk for free, right?”
    It was an apt parallel. Aurelia met the
priest’s dancing gaze and was reminded again of her lost brother.
Even knowing his intentions for her, Aurelia could not help but
smile tentatively back.
    He grinned and stuck out his hand. “Julian
Preston. Call me Julian.”
    Aurelia stared at his hand, then took it as
that seemed to be his expectation. Julian squeezed her fingers,
pumped her hand up and down twice, then released it.
    A strange gesture indeed. Aurelia wondered
what it meant.
    “ And you may call me
Aurelia.”
    “ Instead of Princess?”
Julian seemed to be struggling not to laugh. The similarity to
Thord was most telling when his eyes danced and Aurelia, despite
her determination not to like the priest, felt some sisterly
affection dawn within her.
    “ Only in private, of
course,” she advised him, much as she would have advised her
brother with his short memory for such details. “In the hall, you
will still have to use my title.” Aurelia frowned, unable to
understand why this was so amusing to the priest.
    Did they not have decent manners in Rome
either?
    “ Well, make yourself at
home.” Julian waved cheerfully and tossed his blessing square
towards Aurelia.
    She no sooner caught it than he was gone,
leaving Aurelia alone in the chamber decorated by Bard’s whore. The
door closed with a solid click that made her realize this chamber,
regardless of its richness, was a prison, after all. And, as his
prisoner, Aurelia was subject to the whim of Bard, son of Erc.
    Whatever that might be.

    *

Chapter