Free Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 by Bernadette Rowley

Vard Anton
sat on the floor, head resting in his hands -- and he wore not a stitch of clothing.
It was as if all his soft edges had been scraped away by a
sculptor’s tool. Alecia could not move; could not breathe. All she
could do was stare at lean buttocks, muscular thighs and calves and
a ridged stomach. And then he looked at her. Goddess! Alecia’s gasp seemed loud in the quiet
room. The captain’s eyes were no longer yellow-flecked but full
gold that reflected the light of her candle.
    She took
a step backwards. He stood and pulled on snug-fitting breeches but
not before Alecia glimpsed what lay within the curling dark hair of
his lower abdomen. I shouldn’t be seeing him like this. She took another backward step, ready to
bolt.
    “Princess.”
His voice held a faint tremor.
    Alecia cleared
her throat. “I should not be here,” she said, unable to get the
sight of his manhood from her thoughts. “I will leave you
to…whatever it was you were doing.”
    He laughed. It
had a bitter sound. “Perhaps that’s best.”
    Alecia froze
at the note of vulnerability and paused to study his face. “What is
wrong?”
    “It hits me
sometimes.”
    “What hits
you? Say something I can understand.”
    He
reached out and drew her into the room. His skin burned against
hers with such intensity that Alecia’s question flew from her
mind -- all she could
focus on was his heat and her frantic heart. He stared down at her
as though trying to memorize every feature. Too late, Alecia
remembered she had good reason to avoid his scrutiny. She dragged
her gaze from his scorching eyes and looked instead at his chest.
That did not help at all. Her fingers itched to stroke the bronzed
skin of his shoulders. She clenched her hands into fists at her
bosom.
    He placed a
finger under her chin to raise her face to his. The gesture was one
of gentleness but the heat had not left his gaze.
    “Your eyes,
Captain,” she said, heart pounding.
    “I won’t hurt
you.” He stared at her then drew her to the lone chair in the room.
“Sit and we’ll talk.”
    Alecia sat,
her knees shaking and breath short as though she had run to
Brightcastle Town and back.
    “Am I not the
last person you would wish to talk to?” She recalled their near
kiss and something low in her abdomen stirred. “The role of
protector has been forced on you. You cannot enjoy it.”
    He seemed to
consider her words, and Alecia watched a myriad of feelings chase
each other over his face, saw the torment he struggled to hide. His
eyes burned into hers and she could not look away. I should not be
here, she thought again.
    He opened his
mouth to speak and suddenly she feared to hear the misery of his
gaze put into words.
    “I must go.”
She rose and started for the door. The captain reached it first,
his broad shoulders forming a barrier she could not slip past. He
did not touch her this time and the glow of his eyes had dimmed to
the familiar specks. Had she imagined his earlier wildness? “I
cannot stay here.”
    Vard Anton
seemed not to hear her words. “Do you ever doubt yourself, even for
a moment?”
    The inquiry
pulled her up short. She closed her eyes, remembering the events of
the last two days. “Once I did not, but now …” Alecia opened her
eyes to find his intense gaze upon her. Why was he so desperate?
“You cannot mean to imply that you know doubt?”
    For a brief
instant, pain flared in the depths of his eyes but it was fleeting,
replaced by the familiar granite stare. “Go.”
    Wherever the
vulnerability had come from, it had been exchanged for the chill
she knew well. The sudden transformation unnerved her. He stepped
aside and Alecia fled through the doorway. She ran all the way to
her room without a backward glance and was in her bed before she
remembered the milk.
    She sat, the
thick covers bunched up around her chin, and recalled the exchange
with the captain. What had happened to him? What had he wanted from
her? Outside a cockerel crowed. Soon