Free Lord Grim's Witch (a medieval romance novelette) by Delilah Devlin Page B

withdraw from her bed. Quickly, he donned his braies and boots and grabbed his sword.
    As he let himself out the door of her hut, she scrambled from the bed to peer out the window. The crisp clang of metal came from beyond her sheep pen. A trap snapping shut?
    Then a dark shape arose from behind the fence, at first appearing to stand, then crouching to the ground and circling to confront the sheriff who held his sword at the ready.
    The sheriff charged, shouting loudly and waving his arms to scare away the beast toward the other traps he’d laid. The noisy attack should have forced the creature to turn tail and run because wolves rarely confronted men, but this one didn’t give ground.
    A deep shiver racked her body as she watched, transfixed by the apparition revealed in the moonlight.
    Pale slivers of light pierced the darkness, glistening on the wolf’s yellow eyes and brightening his long, bared fangs.
    Still the sheriff approached, his body taut, muscle rippling in his arms and shoulders as he bent low, readying for the wolf to spring. Moonlight glinted on his raised sword, and the wolf’s gaze followed it. Seeming almost sentient, the creature looked at the sword and the large angry man, and then backed away, not letting its gaze leave the sheriff until it reached the edge of the darkness beyond her clearing and was gone.
    She sat on the edge of the bed and drew a deep breath, shaken by the temerity of the beast. Then she glanced down at her naked body and stiffened. No doubt the sheriff would expect a reward for his courage. But he hadn’t trapped the beast, had he?
    *
    Gisele had heard the new Lord Grimoult was a mountain of a man, strong and courageous in battle and wise as Solomon in his judgments. Which was exactly why she’d come—for protection and justice.
    What she hadn’t heard was that he could leave a woman trembling and damp with one searing glance.
    The moment his gaze lifted from the scroll spread over the table in front of him, she forgot how to breathe. When the room began to teeter, she drew a deep breath to steady herself and stepped over the threshold into his chamber, all the while scolding herself sternly for the lapse.
    What was one devilishly handsome man?
    He was flanked at the oak table by another sinfully attractive specimen—one she’d easily resisted a second time after their late-night tryst. She’d sent the sheriff on his way after the wolf had already done its damage.
    Just as dark, just as well made, the sheriff had never sent her belly into quivers or caused her nipples to sprout against her gown just from a look.
    Perhaps it was the power Lord “Grim” embodied—his will ruled everyone within this demesne, including her. Certainly, her arousal had nothing to do with the thick, black hair that fell in heavy coils to his muscled shoulders. Her interest couldn’t be piqued by the moustache and beard framing a lush mouth any woman would envy. The dark brows casting deep shadows over eyes as black as a moonless sky at midnight weren’t the cause of her fluttering heartbeat or the sinking feeling that quickly swamped her with unwanted reminders she’d remained celibate for far too long. One night with the handsome sheriff hadn’t quenched her need.
    She was nervous—that was all. And perhaps primed for arousal by her wicked romp the previous night.
    Hopefully, it was just the lure of the unknown. When she learned the new master’s true nature, he would be as easily dismissed from her thoughts as every man she’d ever encountered, including the sheriff.
    But she must find his faults and quickly. If she could happen upon the one that would render his appeal null, she’d fare better in the long run. The sheriff had drawn her eye when he’d first taken up his duty—he was handsome and dark like she preferred. Yet she’d catalogued his physical and character flaws to firm her resistance against his beauty. His hair wasn’t a deep, dark chestnut—it was closer to the