Free Rebellious Love by Maura Seger Page B

understood what lay behind the young lord's disquiet, and he wasn't absolutely sure they had acted wisely. Suppose he took offense at what might be regarded as presumption?
    "No ... I don't object. ..." Curran said slowly, mulling over the thought that had just come to him. A tentative smile creased his handsome features. "I don't mind at all." Turning to the artist, he said sincerely: "You are highly talented. Even at court I have not seen work to equal this. My thanks."
    A great sigh of relief rippled through the crowd. Freed of their last fear regarding this man, the people broke into smiles and laughter. Curran, who suddenly saw the solution to his dilemma, readily joined in.
    By dusk he was back at the keep and searching for Verony. He found her in the kitchens, seeing to final preparations for the evening meal. She looked up, surprised to see the man who was constantly in her thoughts but rarely in her sight. "My lord . . ."
    "Come away from there," he said, seizing her hand and leading her toward the door. "The servants will finish up."
    Delighted by his sudden desire for her company, Verony had no wish to argue. But she did regret his timing. Trust Curran to find her tired and disheveled, in wrinkled clothes with a smear of flour on her nose. Using her free hand to unobtrusively tidy herself, Verony trailed after him.
    At this time of day, there were few places in the keep where they could be alone. But Curran managed nonetheless. His guess that the chapel would be empty proved correct. Guiding her inside, he shut the door firmly behind them.
    For a moment he did no more than stare at her, letting his eyes drink in the loveliness of red-gold hair, sparkling indigo eyes, perfect skin and a figure whose beauty was in no way disguised by her forest-green tunic and amber mantle.
    Under his scrutiny, Verony flushed. She had no idea what he wanted, but she was determined to make the most of this opportunity. Empty, frustrated nights had convinced her she would be a fool to do otherwise. The memory of his passionate caresses and her own unbridled response gave her courage.
    Taking a step toward him, she said softly, "I have missed you, my lord."
    Curran's smile faded. His expression was serious, his hands gentle as he drew her to him. "And I have missed you, my lady. For too long."
    His dark head blotted out the light as he bent to kiss her. Their lips touched tentatively, barely brushing. Verony trembled as a fire ignited within her, threatening to rage out of control. Curran's breath grew labored, so intent was he on restraining the full force of his desire. Determinedly, he reminded himself he was bent on persuasion rather than seduction. There would be time enough for that when he had her safely wed.
    Drawing back, he muttered thickly: "You intoxicate me, Verony, far more potently than any wine."
    She took a deep breath to still her own raging need before grinning up at him mischievously. "With less destructive effect, I hope."
    "With quite the opposite effect," he assured her. The truth of these words struck him forcibly. Her nearness and that single fleeting kiss were enough to arouse him achingly. Thinking it wise to put some distance between them, he led her to a bench against one wall.
    Verony sank onto it gratefully. Her knees shook, and her legs threatened to give way. Even as she marveled at the impact he had on her, she wondered how quickly they could contrive to assuage the yearning she was now sure pounded through them both. Nothing in her training had prepared her to tell a man she wished to be his mistress.
    Curran did not help her. He was too busy grappling with his own thoughts. Knowing he had to strike just the right note with her robbed him of the natural eloquence he showed in every other situation. As dumbstruck as a young boy, he faced her warily.
    "Curran ..."
    "Verony ..."
    They broke off, laughing self-consciously. Curran was willing enough to let her go first, anything to gain himself more time.