A Wanton's Thief Read Online Free Page A

be on our way.”
    Her teeth ground together in anger. Salena attempted once again to scream, to run, to disobey this obvious sorcerer who held silent powers over her body that she could not control. But it was no use. Though she glared back with eye-power of her own, the magic proved too strong to fight, despite the inner rebelliousness that spewed from her soul.
    With tears of frustration brimming in her eyes, Lady Salena Tremayne, betrothed of Duke Edward Devonshire, turned and walked briskly toward the door. Out into the cold of an autumn night, the future Duchess of Oxford stole away with the thief who held all she desired, and all she hated and feared.

Chapter Two
     
    Bareback upon his Friesian warhorse, Falcon held Salena before him, her soft, womanly curves shivering against his jerkin and codpiece. The braies beneath his cloak stretched painfully taut over the erection he’d sported since spying her slumbering form upon that queen’s bed of hers. Inhaling, he caught the scent of roses and something altogether feminine, distinct to only this woman. It played havoc on his senses, nearly rendering him unable to perform his required spells of protection. His cock throbbed with the need to claim the pussy that he knew, despite her outward indignation and anger, had filled with honey at his nearness.
    But first he had to get her to the safety of his village a day’s ride from here.
    They reached the gatehouse and Falcon looked up at the lone gatekeeper. He sent his tazir gaze into the man’s eyes, enthralling him.
    “Guard, you will release the drawbridge over the moat, and once we have passed, you will return it to its former state and never recall this exchange.”
    “Yes, sir,” the man called down, his voice in a monotone of obedience.
    The clank and grind of iron chains sounded as the sentry lowered the drawbridge. Behind him, Falcon could hear the shouts of panic, the low squall of an alarm as Lady Salena’s absence was made known to the loyal members of her keep.
    “Hurry, man!”
    “It is nearly done,” the guard informed him. And indeed it was. Even as the wooden planks crashed to the far stone edge of the moat, Falcon urged his mount to leap upon the bridge and spurred it across the long stretch. The clatter of hooves thundered out, echoing in the moonless dark of night. He heard the creak and clang of metal as the watchman raised the bridge behind him.
    Knowing he hadn’t the full powers to enthrall and escape an entire army of knights, Falcon urged his steed on, putting as much distance between them and the castle as humanly possible.
    As they traveled on and the silver moon began to peep through the waning clouds and crooked trees overhead, Falcon started to relax. Behind him, the wilderness stretched, as did mile after mile of barren land. His trail had been lost. The pursuing soldiers of Lady Salena’s home, Wyngate Hall, had long since taken another path in error. She now slumped against him in exhaustion. The power he’d cast on her still remained, so he roused her with a gentle nudge.
    “Awaken.”
    She stirred and her eyes rose to his in that slow manner of one tazired by his allures. His breath caught when the hue of them shone up at him, twinkling by the moonlight. They were a warm, almost spooky peacock-blue edged with sleepy bliss. Thick midnight lashes framed the unusual catlike shape of them, fanning her high cheekbones as she blinked. Slowly, awareness dawned in them, and he knew the exact moment that anger stirred within her breast once again. The full cherry lips pursed and he fought a craving to suck them right into his mouth. The pale skin flushed to the pink of a rose. He clenched one hand against the reins, fighting the urge to explore every silky inch of her flesh.
    Falcon reminded himself that involvement with a mortal always amounted to nothing but emotional suicide. But his blood rekindled, despite the firsthand experience of the repeated heartaches he’d endured,