Free Claire Delacroix by Once Upon A Kiss

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 Five
     
    Aurelia