By Jill Barnett

"Read this only for the pleasure," says Romantic Times of Jill Barnett's final luscious romance, Carried Away. Her very good expertise for enthralling tales laced with sensuality is often a pride, and not extra so than during this thirteenth-century story of a courageous knight who returns to the Welsh border to say -- and tame -- his bride, or so he thinks....

After too a long time at the battlefield, Merrick de Beaucourt is calling ahead to an easy lifetime of peace and quiet with a docile spouse at his part. but if he eventually fetches his bride-to-be from a secluded English convent, he reveals he wishes greater than his knight's spurs to carry order to his existence.

whilst she used to be betrothed at fifteen to the mythical English knight she had by no means met, girl Clio of Camrose believed that love was once whatever magical. yet her younger hopes light as she languished in a convent for 6 lengthy years, by no means listening to a notice from Merrick.

Weary of warfare, Lord Merrick unearths little peace guarding the wild Welsh borders, or even much less with the spouse whose belief he destroyed. yet as woman Clio involves comprehend the darkish knight she so blindly wed, she sees an opportunity to make her desires come real. Amid the enchanted mists that envelop Camrose fort, they are going to conflict jointly to find a spot the place all issues are attainable, even a love that's infrequent and wonderful.

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Did they now not understand how she had deliberate? Humph! A second later she marched throughout the nice corridor and down the steps, the place she went out the massive wood doorways and into the bailey. The ducks and chickens pecked on the floor whereas a hen with a purple plume strutted and crowed and behaved in manly style alongside the gutter drains close to the wall. The chickens overlooked him. She may possibly see Cyclops hiding in the back of a few damaged staves close to the deserted cooper’s hut with Pitt perched on his pussycat head, wings unfold and looking out just like the gaudy plumed helm of an old god. She questioned what these have been stalking now. With the entire mice to be stuck, she’d rarely noticeable them due to the fact that coming again. yet either her pets appeared plumper already, and their eyes had the lazy and overly chuffed glance of the kitchen hounds after a Christmas ceremonial dinner. within the bailey, there has been not anyone. She walked via to the outer bailey and met an identical vacancy. It was once nearly as though she have been the final individual on this planet. The portcullis have been cranked open and she or he may well pay attention noise from past. She moved during the gates and over the lengthy wood planks that spanned the moat. each member of the fort, each villein, each serf, and an immense horde of men-at-arms have been assembled in what appeared like conflict traces alongside the rolling grassy fields, the place, towards the rear, an important tent stood in an encampment. At each one nook of the tent flew silken pennants marked with the Earl of Glamorgan’s unique cost blazoned sable a move argent a lion rampant gules—a black box, white go, and rearing bloodred lion. every time the breeze picked up, the flags rippled and waved and made the pink lions glance as though they have been prowling. She attempted to determine what used to be taking place, then noticed Merrick jogging alongside in entrance of the traces. He wore no helmet or conflict armor, merely mail less than a protracted black tunic that was once belted with leather-based trimmed in thick silver chain. His sword and its sheath hung at his aspect. a gentle breeze picked up the thick black hair that hung all the way down to the again of his neck. For simply an quick, that darkish hair flashed silver within the vibrant solar; then the sunshine shone off the silver sword sheath. It harm her eyes and compelled her to defend them together with her hand. His fingers have been locked in the back of his again as he walked in entrance of the strains, preventing to talk with all people. The servants didn't seem to be cowering … but. None have been on their knees, nor have been they prostrated earlier than him. Clio moved towards them and felt the stares and glances of a few of the folks and stuck some of his males turning their heads in her course. Ignoring these seems to be, she searched in regards to the crowd for Sir Roger’s golden-red head, however it was once nowhere in sight. a lot for a place of excessive dry land in a flood, she proposal. preventing a couple of measures clear of Merrick, she stood there, awaiting a few reaction from him. A snarl. a chilly glare just like the evening ahead of. Or a roar could be extra in personality for somebody referred to as the purple Lion. She stored ready. What she didn't count on was once him to disregard her.

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