A Knight to Remember #FridayTease Excerpt 3

3 A Knight to RememberAs release day approaches for the re-release of the first three books in the Realm of Honor series, I’m excited to bring you today’s teaser from the third book, A Knight to Remember. This book follows the romance between Queen Maeve and Henry, Maggie’s father.

Now through release day (July 25) you can get this book at half price ($2.99) at Smashwords. Use Coupon Code ZZ82B. Price will go back up to $4.99 after release day.

Pre-Order Buy Links:

iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Amazon | Smashwords

BLURB:

The Goddess of War is out for Queen Maeve’s blood to satisfy a thousand-year-old vendetta. And the only one that can save her is a human masquerading as a Fae knight.

Henry Chase is desperate to find his daughter lost in the Highlands. When he steps through a stone circle, he’s transported to the Otherworld. With his human form hidden by glamour, he masquerades as a Fae knight. He’s instantly besotted by Queen Maeve and determined to break down the walls she’s erected around her heart.

In the aftermath of war, Queen Maeve’s kingdom has been destroyed. She must close the portals to the human realm and restore her lost magic. But before she can set things straight, her archenemy, the Goddess of War, attacks, seeking revenge.

When the goddess captures the queen, Henry offers his life for Maeve’s in the hope his bravery will earn the queen’s love. Discovering Henry is human and knowing she must send him back to his world, Maeve tries to fight her feelings for him. Now she must choose—life at court or life with Henry—before she loses him forever.

EXCERPT:

Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m…fine. How did you…know to do that?” she asked, her words breathy. As if she couldn’t believe he’d figured it out.

“It was a hunch. Glad it was right.”

“Me, too. Thank you.”

“Now aren’t you glad I came with you?”

She smiled. “Aye, I am. You saved my life.”

He took her hand and led her back into the garden among the roses.

“Now, where were we?”

He cupped her face in his hands again. Maeve’s eyes searched his, her blood-red lips parted as if to object but he didn’t allow her to speak. He took that as invitation and kissed her, their mouths fusing together. He heard her sharp intake of breath through her nose. Her body stiffened but still he didn’t stop.

She didn’t resist him. His lips molded to hers in a way they had never molded to another. His tongue dipped into the honey recesses of her mouth, tasting her. And she tasted oh so sweet. So delectable. So wonderful. The smell of roses rushed over them, enveloping them. A moment later, her body relaxed and she melted into him. Yet one hand pressed against his chest, as though she intended to push him away. She did not.

For the first time in a long while, Henry’s shaft hardened, straining against the soft curves of her body seeking her heat and dampness. Wanting her. His mouth devoured hers and now she returned the kiss, much to his delight. Her tongue was probing, needy. Her lips mashed against his, as if she’d allowed reckless abandon to overcome her.

But then, almost as suddenly as she relaxed, she shoved away and stumbled back a step. Her face was flushed, her lips damp and swollen. Her breathing was erratic, her breasts rising and falling.

He could see the crushed pink petals of a rose in one of her fists. She must have grasped the bud and ripped it from the stem. Her fingers opened, one by one, and the mashed petals cascaded to the ground.

“Thank you for protecting me, Sir Henry.” Her voice rasped the words, as though she had trouble keeping it under control.

Maybe she did. Maybe she enjoyed the heat of the kiss as much as he did. Now he had a problem—a large problem straining against his breeches—and nothing he could do about it. And he certainly couldn’t return to the party with a giant boner straining against the cloth. Oh hell no.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Why did he feel the sudden need to confess? He had nothing to be ashamed about. He was a grown man. Had they both been mortal, he would have guessed they were about the same age. And despite being in his late forties, he was still a strong, virile man.

Maeve gave him her best snooty look. “Why did you?”

His gaze flickered her to her lips and—damn it—she licked them. More taunting. More teasing. She knew what she was doing. He didn’t buy the ice queen act. Deep down, she was desperate for loving. He was going to give it to her.

“You allowed me.” You cannot deny you liked it. You experienced the heat as I did. Even though he wanted to say the words to her, he pushed them out of his mind and said, “I wanted to.”

“See that it doesn’t happen again.”

She whisked by him, leaving behind the scent of crushed roses. Henry watched Maeve walk away, the damaged rose petals on the ground at his feet. For whatever reason, he bent and picked up a few of them, rubbing the velvety softness between his thumb and forefinger. He placed the petals in his palm, examining them. Even smashed they were beautiful. He tucked them away in his pocket. He would cherish them simply because she had held them in her palm.

By Michelle

I love dragons, castles, fairies and elves. I drink coffee, wine and martinis. Fantasy, paranormal and contemporary romance author. Proud Texan.