Free Forbidden Magic by Catherine Emm

embrace.
    "Nay," she gasped, feeling the heat of her passion warm her face. "You mustn't." She moved to step away but was held steady when his strong arms caught her between them as he pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her.
    "Methinks 'tis you who mustn't," he whispered.
    Jewel shivered. "Sir?"
    "There will be no witchcraft, potions, or spells, but simply naked desire arising in you with my touch. You suspect but fear its discovery."
    "Nay. I do not," she snapped, ducking beneath his arm. But as she sought to put a great distance between them, she was suddenly jerked off balance by the edge of her wrap caught in his iron grip. He spun her around when he yanked forcefully on the cloth and nearly tore it from her fingers.
    "Then why dost thou flee?" he whispered with a smile, purposefully curling the fabric around his hand and drawing her closer.
    To retain possession of the garment meant being pulled within his grasp, and though Jewel preferred not to unveil herself before his hungry eyes, she knew no other way to be free of him. Then remembering her mantle on the floor near the door, she elected to allow him ownership of the wrap in trade for her cloak, a garment she would seize to shield herself as she raced from the room. Surely he would not follow half dressed and reveal his failure with the woman everyone thought a whore. Biting her lower lip for courage, she let go of the cloth, spun around, and circled the end of the bed. Heading for the mantle and her escape, she failed to realize the lithe form she presented to him, nor did she see the pleased, lustful look in his eyes, for if she had, she would have recognized the foolishness of her venture. Instead, she hastened on, stooping slightly to pick up the garment as she ran. But as she started to whirl it around her shoulders, the knight sprang across the bed to cut her off, his muscular arms encompassing her tiny wast as he pulled her with him to tumble on the bed of fur pelts on the floor. She screamed, but the sound was lost amid the roar of thunder outside the room.
    "Nay! Nay!" she cried, arms and legs thrashing wildly.
    He paid her no heed as he rolled her beneath him and Jewel suddenly felt every inch of naked flesh pressed against her own. Frantic, she reached up to claw his face, the nails of her right hand drawing thin paths of blood down his cheek. He grunted, seizing her wrist, and easily twisted her arm above her head, holding both her hands in one of his, stilling her struggles almost immediately. Through tear-filled eyes, she watched him trace the wound with his fingertips and feared he would strike her in revenge. But to her astonishment and relief, a smile parted his lips as he looked down at her. Though she lay beneath hint, he braced his weight on one arm, disallowing any movement on her part but causing her no difficulty in breathing. He was forceful and at the same time gentle, something Jewel had not expected and felt certain would not last.
    "I have fought many battles, little one, and never enjoyed an injury as much." He grinned, his green eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Gunther will have a merry time reminding me that a fierce knight was bettered by such a tiny enemy. But I will not mind, for I will tell him of the spoils I claimed in return. Well worth the spilling of my blood, I think." The smile faded as he lowered his head, his lips parted and seeking hers.
    Jewel twisted her face away. "I will see you're beheaded for this. Will Gunther laugh then?" she challenged, fruitlessly trying to push him from her. He tightened his grip around her wrists, easily subduing her when a tremor of pain shot through her arms.
    "Nay," he mocked. "He will see no humor in it. But I will not worry overmuch. By morning sun, I will leave you as I have all the others before you, with only a scar to remind me of this night. Our paths will not cross again, so Gunther's anger for the death of his friend will not arise. You will be spared his