Free Iloria by Moira Rogers Page A

“You promised me you’d take it easy this afternoon, love.”
    “Mmm, and I have.” He looked adorably put out, and she had to kiss him, so she dropped a peck to his cheek. “Relax. Everything is fine. Better than fine.”
    Farran dropped a protective hand to her belly. “Everything is perfect.”
    She wound her fingers together with his. “But you’re still worried about passing on the curse.”
    “I used to dread it,” he admitted quietly. “I used to swear I would never inflict such a life on a son. Now I realize it isn’t so terrible.”
    It was a gift beyond measure, the knowledge that she’d brought him peace enough to live his life instead of simply enduring it. Tears pricked her eyes, and she smiled through them. “We can show him happiness. Love.”
    He kissed her cheek, and his beard rasped over her skin as he moved his lips to her ear. “Enough of both to last a lifetime.”
    “Or more.”

Sneak Peek
     
    Enjoy this excerpt from the fourth and final
And the Beast
story. For an exclusive look at the cover and an extended excerpt, visit MoiraRogers.com .
    #
    Once, she’d been a lioness, proud and fierce.
    Once she’d been a woman. Not of great wealth, nor of unspeakable beauty. But one man desired her body, a man of considerable means. A lion who did not care for proud and fierce .
    A curse took her will to resist him, made her exotic in all the ways he treasured, all the ways a lioness should not be. Obedient. Submissive.
    One, she’d been a lioness. Now she was a mouse.
    #
    “I’m sorry, who is she?”
    The valet looked embarrassed, as if he’d rather be anywhere else than dealing with this particular issue. “Your uncle’s mistress, my lord. The only one he kept on his estate.”
    Evidently, Malrion had been unaware of a good many of his uncle’s affairs, but a mistress ... “Did he make provisions for her?”
    Ammon’s lips twitched into a disapproving frown. “No. Do I have your leave to speak bluntly?”
    “Your—” Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Mal braced both hands on the window sill and stared down into the garden below, where the raven-haired woman sat. “Speak, man.”
    “Your uncle preferred his women pliable, but could command neither their respect nor their fear. He bound his mistress to him with magic to ensure her submission.”
    Mal’s blood ran cold. Such things were the province of evil men, not decent ones. “Was she willing before he had her bound? Did she know what he’d planned for her?”
    “They say she loved him, in the beginning. That he wooed her, and she was willing.” The valet’s voice sounded tired. “Only she knows the truth. The curse that bound her to obedience died with your uncle, but she is...”
    A shadow. Mal could see it even from his vantage point high above. “Is she human?” Perhaps she had family.
    But Ammon shook his head. “A lioness. Before I sent for you, I inquired after her family. She had only a brother, who died in the first year of the war.”
    If Mal turned her out, she would have nowhere, no one. “I shall make her a ward of the royal household, then. We’ll find her a position.” He turned to Ammon. “Have her brought to me.”
    The man sketched a clumsy bow, already backing toward the door in his haste. “As you wish, my lord.”
    “Yes,” Mal muttered when he’d gone. “As I wish.”

About the Author
     
    How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.
    By day, Bree and Donna are mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South. At night, when their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to unleash the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page. To learn more about this romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit their