Free Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series) by K. R. Richards Page A

landed against his. He captured those full lips and kissed her fully and completely. He took the box containing the Chynoweth sapphires and set it and his piece of chicken upon the old quilt. One large arm wrapped around her, while his other hand fisted in her hair. Their kiss deepened. God how he’d missed holding Wenna in his arms. She smelled of rosemary and lavender, fresh and clean. Her body molded soft and warm against him. Since the day she sent him away telling him she would marry another, he had prayed for the chance to hold her again. There were times he thought this day might never come. He savored the kiss, drawing it out.
    Wenna’s heart thundered in her chest . It felt so right being in Trevan’s arms, him kissing her again. She had never wanted John to kiss her, and thankfully, he had only once. She had not enjoyed it.
    At this moment , she wanted Trevan to kiss her and more! Yet reason screamed they could not do more. It was far too soon. She pushed that particular thought away while she simply enjoyed the passionate kiss they shared.
    Though Trevan wanted to lay her back upon the rug covering the soft green grass and make her his again, he knew it was not the wisest of ideas. He continued the kiss for a few more moments then pulled away. He smiled down at her. He dipped his head again and allowed his lips to feather against hers once more.
    “You are so beautiful, Wenna,” he whispered huskily. He caressed her cheek. “We had best eat our luncheon.” He released his hold on her.
    Wenna straightened. She smoothed her skirts and smiled at Trevan. “Yes. You said the chicken is good?”
    “ It’s delicious.”
    After they ate thei r fill, they conversed while they shared another glass of wine. Trevan pulled Wenna to her feet. They strolled about the castle ruins, hand in hand, while talking. They observed and shared details of the ruins.
    When it began to sprinkle, they ducked into a shallow alcove beneath a thick arch where heavy vines provided a canopy of sorts. There was little other cover available. The castle roof had been gone for centuries.
    There was barely enough space for them to stand and remain dry. Trevan gathered Wenna in his arms again and pulled her close against him. “This little shower shouldn’t last long.”
    Wenna looked up and studied Trevan’s face . He was so handsome with his jet-black, curly hair and his strong chiseled features set off by the brilliant blue of his eyes. The fact that his sensuous lips were most often curved upward in a smile aided in softening the harsh angles of his face.
    There was certainly no larger man in Cornwall, of that she was certain. Wenna herself was tall for a woman, yet Trevan stood a full head taller than she did. He was twice as broad in the shoulders as was she. He was solid muscle and looked as if he were hewn from Cornish granite.
    Could she be happy i f she married him? She was starting to believe she truly could. If they were married, she would live at Menadue, and there would be no distance between them then.
    “What thoughts are running through that beautiful head of yours, Wenna?” Trevan whispered . In all of Britain, he had never set eyes on a more beautiful woman. There was not a woman upon the Earth who could start a fire inside him the way Wenna did.
    Wenna smiled, “I was just thinking what a n ansum man you are, Trevan.”
    “Were you now, Wen Pen ? Funny thing, I was just telling myself what an ansum woman I am holding in my arms at this moment.” He grinned. Then the grin faded and he spoke in a serious tone. “I mean that, Wenna. You are the only woman I’ve ever been attracted to. The only one I’ve ever wanted. The only one I can imagine spending the rest of my life with.”
    His voice was husky . Wenna rested her palms against his rock-hard chest and lifted up on tiptoe. She pressed her lips to his.
    H e accepted her kiss hungrily.
    They kissed e ach other with fire and passion. Neither one of them held back.