Free Joust of Hearts by Genella deGrey

opposite end of the tower. Devin appeared through the doorway and strode toward her. She smiled, realizing he had done this for her.
    Devin stopped in the center of the small room and placed his hand over his heart. “You are like the stars…and your voice is as lovely as…the wind and…your eyes are pools of…gray…”
    Melisande stood silently for a moment. She dared not laugh, for she knew how difficult this must have been for him and was deeply touched. The wall of ice she’d built around her heart melted at his awkward attempt at romantic prose and her resolve ebbed away. If she had not fallen for him before this, she would certainly have given herself to him now. ’ Tis no ordinary man who would go to this length to impress a woman.
    His hand dropped to his side, clearly declaring his ode at an end.
    “Did you write that yourself?” Melisande asked, barely holding her mirth in check.
    “I am sorry. I have never professed to be a poet.” He grinned and placed his hands behind his back.
    “Nay, forsooth ’twas…lovely.”
    At the same moment, they broke into melodious laughter that drowned out the lute and lyre. Looking toward the archway, Devin dismissed the musicians with a wave of his hand and turned back toward Melisande.
    Her being flooded with a warm and overwhelming joy. Giddily she asked, “How did you know I was—”
    “I did not. I do, however, confess that I’d pondered long and hard as to how I would entice you to this tower.”
    There was no helping herself. She reached up and threw her arms around his neck as high as she could. Devin in turn pulled her close.
    “Your efforts are the sweetest thing a man has done for me in all of my life,” she said, and briefly touched her forehead to his chin.
    “Your late husband never recited verse for you?”
    Melisande attempted to stifle a giggle. “Nay not, and by the by, how did you find out I was widowed?”
    “I hear talk,” he replied, tossing his head to the side in dismissal of the subject.
    “And what else did you hear?”
    Devin’s smile faded, his eyes turned deep green and the torchlight reflected in them. “I also heard that you have not been with a man since he died,” he said in a low voice, slowly leaning his face toward hers.
    Melisande’s heart pounded as it always did when he was this close.
    “Remind me to dismiss those two gossiping maids from my employ,” she said half-heartedly, tilting her chin up. Their lips brushed together so lightly it tickled. Devin’s tongue gently teased her lower lip and her body melted along with her legs out from under her. She felt his arms tighten around her, keeping her from falling.
    So much for her sainthood. The short-lived battle for her widowed purity was forever lost. And now that she was resigned to that fact, she no longer cared. And so what? ’Tis not as if I am relinquishing my virginity. She hadn’t realized until this moment how lonely she had been. It feels so wonderful to be in Devin’s big, strong arms. This is heaven. She pulled away enough to sigh and murmur, “What is it about you that makes my mind bemused?”
    He answered her silently with a kiss.
    With each passing moment, his embrace became more intense as they melted closer together and lovingly feasted upon each other.
    Melisande wanted more of his tongue.
    He stopped kissing her and growled playfully. “Will you eat me alive, then, woman?” He reached down, his hands cupping her bottom, and pulled her toward him until she was flush against his hardness. “I would like that.” And he began again with his plundering kisses.
    She could barely reach the floor with her toes. “Devin…” came her ragged groan as he nipped her cheeks then her neck.
    “Aye, Melisande. You will be mine,” he whispered.
    He was fire, he was sustenance—he was the very air around her. She wanted him to make love to her. Right now.
    As if she’d said it aloud, Devin lowered them to their knees. She tugged at the belt around