It’s another First Kiss Friday and today’s guest is fellow Bluestocking Belle Rue Allyn who is sharing a first kiss scene from her latest release, The Herald’s Heart. We hope you enjoy this excerpt so happy reading, my lovelies. Take it away, Rue!
Sherry, thank you very much for the chance to share the first kiss from The Herald’s Heart, released just this past Monday. I do want to give your readers a small warning. Please do not be put off by the start of this scene. It is period appropriate. However, I assure you that Lady Larkin puts Sir Talon in his place very rapidly. Thank heaven he’s a quick learner and is willing to change is ways.
His eyes opened with the dawn. He shifted in the bed and looked over the side at the woman asleep on the floor. She lay curled, shivering within his cloak, only her hair and face showing. He regretted having to leave her there, but sharing a bed with her, no matter how attractive she might be, wasn’t an option. He could have given up the bed to her, but even his chivalry had its limits. ’Twas enough that he’d resisted the temptation her body offered.
A delicate snore snuffled from her. Good. She was sound asleep. He rose and donned his chausses, then sought out the chamber pot behind the corner screen.
When he returned, he found her where he’d left her. One long-fingered hand peeked out, clutching the wool around her. A whiff of lavender knifed through the smell of the keep. He knelt, lifting away the cloak, seeking more of that sweetness. He ached with longing for the comfort he might have found with her.
He sat behind her, lowered his head, and nuzzled his face into her soft cloud of hair, trying to memorize the specific combination of scents she used. God’s bones, but she smelled good. Warm and yeasty, like fresh bread, and was there a hint of pansy among the lavender?
He had a weakness for pansies. His cock lengthened painfully, and he readjusted his position, stretching out along her back. She was soft and warm. A man could resist only so much temptation. He sought and found her delicate nape, then scraped his teeth along her skin until he located her earlobe. He closed his lips over the pliant morsel and sucked. His tongue darted forward to tickle the firmer shell of her ear as his fingers released the knots he’d tied last night. Her bottom wriggled, and her feet swept up his legs. Yes, she wants me. He relaxed against her and moved his hand to her thigh.
She kicked him.
Talon howled in pain and rolled away from her. A thumb’s length higher and she would have unmanned him.
She rolled after him, pummeling his chest and head.
“Cease, vixen.” He raised his arms to ward her off.
“Nay. You sought to maul me in my sleep. I will teach you to try rape.”
Talon set his jaw against guilt. He had touched her without her leave. Still, he had never forced a woman in his life and would not start now. He fought her for control before she could harm herself.
“I intended no rape,” he grunted.
“What else could you intend?” She battled back, raining blows on his chest as she spoke.
In moments, he manacled her hands between their bodies. He used his legs to hold her down while he fumbled with one hand to retie the rope around her. She shifted and bucked below him, causing no undue amount of stress to his aroused flesh, but their positions protected him from direct attack.
Once the rope was secure, he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, weighting her legs down with his own. “Cease,” he shouted when she continued to rage beneath him.
His words had no effect. Was she mad? He caught a glimpse of her eyes as she tossed her head. He had seen such looks on men gone berserk in battle. To stop those men often required a strong blow to the head. He was not about to hit a woman. So he did the only thing that came naturally. He clamped an iron grip upon her chin and ground his lips upon hers.
Her screams became muted grunts, and she stilled. He eased back the pressure on her mouth and suckled on the plush lower lip, urging her to open for him.
She did, but only to bite him.
He whipped away from her, put a hand to his bleeding mouth, and stared at her. “I apologize. ’Twas the only way I could think to make you stop without doing you violence.”
Her lip curled, and he heard a snarl start low in her throat. “You would say anything to try to excuse your lust. You’re a man, so of course the situation is all my fault.”
“I only sought comfort. Then you seemed to want me.”
“The day I want you in any manner is the day the dead will walk.” She sidled as far from him as possible. “What sort of dunce are you to think a woman who kicks you wants you?”
“I thought that before you kicked me,” he mumbled. He pressed hard on his lip, trying to stop the bleeding.
She stared at him with disbelief and frustration and no little fear in the quiet trembling of her mouth.
This had to stop. She did not wish to lie with him. Fine. He did not require it. But if he could not have comfort, he would have peace with her. He would not permit anger, distrust, or fear to get in the way of that.
He pushed himself up. Then grasping her by the arms, he lifted her into a sitting position.
Her mouth dropped open. The muscles in her throat worked, but she remained silent.
“Yes?” he invited, setting her on the bed. Now that she no longer fought him, he would not mind hearing what she had to say. If her words bothered him, he could always gag her, since kissing proved dangerous.
The Herald’s Heart
by Rue Allyn
Her identity was stolen. He thinks she’s a murderer. Will love help them discover the truth?
Royal Herald Sir Talon Du Quereste imagined he would someday settle on a quiet little estate, marry a gently bred damsel, and raise a flock of children. The wife of his daydreams was a woman who could enhance his standing with his peers, and certainly not an overly adventurous, impulsive, argumentative woman of dubious background.
When her family is murdered, Lady Larkin Rosham lost more than everyone she loved—she lost her name, her identity and her voice. She’s finally recovered her ability to speak, but no one believes her claim to be Lady Larkin. She is determined to regain her name and her heritage, but Sir Talon Du Quereste guards the way to the proof she needs. She must discover how to get past him without risking her heart.
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About Rue Allyn:
Award winning author, Rue Allyn, learned story telling at her grandfather’s knee. (Well it was really more like on his knee—I was two.) She’s been weaving her own tales ever since. She has worked as an instructor, mother, sailor, clerk, sales associate, and painter, along with a variety of other types of employment. She has lived and traveled in places all over the globe from Keflavik Iceland (I did not care much for the long nights of winter.) and Fairbanks Alaska to Panama City and the streets of London England to a large number of places in between. Now that her two sons have left the nest, Rue and her husband of more than four decades (Try living with the same person for more than forty years—that’s a true adventure.) have retired and moved south.
When not writing, enjoying the nearby beach or working jigsaw puzzles, Rue travels the world and surfs the internet in search of background material and inspiration for her next heart melting romance. She loves to hear from readers, and you may contact her at Rue@RueAllyn.com She can’t wait to hear from you.
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