Free Forbidden by Elizabeth Lowell

eyelashes?” he asked.
    “I am afraid for you, for me, for us.”
    “Because I can't remember?”
    “No. Because you might.”
    His breath came in sharply. “Why? What could be wrong with that?”
    “What if you are married?”
    “I think not. Surely I would feel its absence as I do my missing sword.”
    “What if you owed fealty to a Norman lord?” Amber asked desperately, trying to quench the passion in Duncan's eyes.
    “What would it matter? Saxon and Norman are at peace.”
    “That could change.”
    “The sky could fall, too.”
    “But what if you are Lord Robert's enemy? Or Sir Erik's?”
    “Would Erik have brought an enemy to you?” Duncan countered.
    When Amber started to speak, he talked over her.
    “What if I'm merely a knight back from the Holy Land looking for a lord to serve?”
    Duncan's words went through Amber like delicate lightning, making even darkness bright, if only for a moment.
    Amber's smile trembled uncertainly. “Have you fought the Saracen?”
    “I… yes!” Duncan's smile flashed against the silky darkness of his mustache as a memory gleamed briefly. “I fought them in a place called… God's blood, 'tis gone again!”
    “It will return.”
    “But I fought. I know it,” he said. “Just as surely as I know I want this.”
    Duncan bent until his lips were all but brushing Amber's. When she would have withdrawn, his hand tightened on her chin and his arm slid around her body.
    “Just a single kiss. ”Tis all I ask. One kiss for the man you brought out of darkness."
    Amber stiffened, but couldn't fight against the lure of his passion and her own.
    “We shouldn't,” she said.
    “Aye,” he murmured, smiling.
    “ 'Tis dangerous.”
    “ 'Tis sweet beyond belief.”
    Amber tried to argue, but could not. It was indeed sweet beyond belief to be held by her dark warrior.
    “Open your lips for me,” Duncan whispered against her mouth. “Let me taste your nectar as delicately as a bee tastes a violet.”
    “Duncan…”
    “Yes. Like that.”             ;
    This time Amber wasn't shocked to feel the living warmth of Duncan's tongue gliding into her mouth, but she was amazed by his restraint. She could feel the passion in him like a wild sea battering against the shores of his will. His whole body was taut, fierce. He quivered with hunger. Yet his kiss was barely a breath of warmth, a fragile pressure that came and went like a flame.
    Without knowing it. Amber made a soft, tiny sound and opened her lips wider, seeking more than Duncan had offered. Hands hardened by war shifted gently on her body, coaxing her closer and then closer still, luring her nearer the fire that was burning in his loins.
    “Duncan,” she whispered.
    “Yes?”
    “You taste of sunlight and storm at once.”
    His breath caught as his heartbeat quickened.
    “You taste like spiced honey,” Duncan said. “I want to lick up every sweet drop.”
    “And I want you to,” Amber admitted.
    His breath came out in a groan. His mouth came down over hers less gently, seeking a deeper mating. His arms molded her supple warmth to his body until she could feel every bit of his strength. His strong hands rocked her hips in a rhythm as ancient as desire and as new to her as dawn.
    After a long time Duncan lifted his head and took a deep, harsh breath.
    “My body knows you,” he said in a gritty voice. “It responds to you as to none other.”
    Amber trembled and fought against the twin torrents of passion—his own, hers, their hunger combining until it was like a river in flood, and she stood on crumbling banks, ripe to fall at any moment.
    “How many times have we lain in darkness together, our bodies joined and slick with desire?” he asked.
    Amber started to speak, but the feel of Duncan's hand over her breast stole her thoughts.
    “How many times have I undressed you, kissed your breasts, your belly, the creamy smoothness of your thighs?” he asked. A broken sound of desire was her only