like butter kissed by the sun.
A giddy rush of affection for her knight overwhelmed her. Before she could think, she cupped his face in her hand and bent to brush a kiss over his lips.
Shock streaked through her, palpable as a lightning bolt flashing between them. A thousand rapturous feelings shattered her body. Stunned, Alyse stumbled back. Geoffrey’s head snapped up and he staggered to his feet to catch her before she could fall. He slid his arm firmly around her waist, and swept her to the bench in the bower.
When they were seated, an embarrassed silence ensued. Unsure what to do, Alyse gazed about the bower. The sweet rose scent seemed to intensify her tumultuous feelings. Should she speak first? Suggest they leave? The longer they remained in the secluded spot, the weaker she might prove against his devastating charms.
Keeping hold of her hand, Geoffrey finally pressed his advantage. “Does this mean I may hope, my lady?”
“What would you hope for, my lord?” She spoke low and kept her eyes downcast. If she even glanced at him, she feared she would be undone. Why did the man make her feel thus?
“That I may be forgiven when I have proved myself worthy.”
She squeezed his hand then let go, still avoiding his eyes. “I would forgive the transgression now, my lord, for you have proven yourself able to admit a fault. An act of which many are incapable. ’Tis itself a worthy deed to declare you were wrong to doubt me.” Alyse ducked her head, suddenly shy to be speaking so directly.
Geoffrey pulled her face to his , and she gasped as she stared into the dark blue depths of his eyes. “Aye, Alyse. I was wrong and shall not make that mistake again, upon my honor. If you are sure you can forgive me, may we go on as before? Can you begin to trust me again?”
“Aye, Geoffrey. I do forgive and…mayhap will trust.” The last came out grudgingly, though more from her confusion than any real doubt of his sincerity.
He sighed and released her face. His big body slumped, as with resignation. Perhaps he had hoped for full pardon. She would reserve that, however, until she became clearer about her position in Lord Braeton’s affections.
They sat together in companionable silence, until Geoffrey spoke again. “I would ask one thing, my lady, if you would tell me.”
A moment’s hesitation then she nodded.
“What knight and lady did you choose? I have yet to tell the king.”
Her smile must have reached from ear to ear, so delighted was she that he had indeed left the choice to her. “Sir Erec and Lady Enid, my lord. An it please you.”
Geoffrey kissed the hair near her brow. “It does please me, love. ’Tis perfect for us. I could not have chosen better. Likely would not have. I would have selected the Lady of the Fountain for you, or the Lady of the Lake, perhaps. Lady of my heart, for certain.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes then sank his mouth onto hers in a true, deep kiss. Her head fell back, his lips so insistent she could not have found the strength to protest had she desired to. He set his hands to roam down to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. Persistent, he slid his tongue over the contours of her lips, now burning with a delicious fire.
Held against him, unable to move, almost unable to breathe, Alyse reveled in his caresses as wave after wave of glorious sensation flooded her body. Kindling passion wrested all thought from her mind, and she wantonly returned his kiss, pressing her mouth to his. His lips awoke the flame she had only vaguely sensed before. Transformed it into an inferno that began at her mouth then blossomed unexpectedly in her breast and between her thighs.
But when his tongue sought to part her lips, a shock bolted through her. His intent overwhelmed her, and she feared the passion she had unleashed in this man. She tried to push away from the iron arms that held her, turned her head to deny his insistent mouth.
At the loss of her lips, Geoffrey
A giddy rush of affection for her knight overwhelmed her. Before she could think, she cupped his face in her hand and bent to brush a kiss over his lips.
Shock streaked through her, palpable as a lightning bolt flashing between them. A thousand rapturous feelings shattered her body. Stunned, Alyse stumbled back. Geoffrey’s head snapped up and he staggered to his feet to catch her before she could fall. He slid his arm firmly around her waist, and swept her to the bench in the bower.
When they were seated, an embarrassed silence ensued. Unsure what to do, Alyse gazed about the bower. The sweet rose scent seemed to intensify her tumultuous feelings. Should she speak first? Suggest they leave? The longer they remained in the secluded spot, the weaker she might prove against his devastating charms.
Keeping hold of her hand, Geoffrey finally pressed his advantage. “Does this mean I may hope, my lady?”
“What would you hope for, my lord?” She spoke low and kept her eyes downcast. If she even glanced at him, she feared she would be undone. Why did the man make her feel thus?
“That I may be forgiven when I have proved myself worthy.”
She squeezed his hand then let go, still avoiding his eyes. “I would forgive the transgression now, my lord, for you have proven yourself able to admit a fault. An act of which many are incapable. ’Tis itself a worthy deed to declare you were wrong to doubt me.” Alyse ducked her head, suddenly shy to be speaking so directly.
Geoffrey pulled her face to his , and she gasped as she stared into the dark blue depths of his eyes. “Aye, Alyse. I was wrong and shall not make that mistake again, upon my honor. If you are sure you can forgive me, may we go on as before? Can you begin to trust me again?”
“Aye, Geoffrey. I do forgive and…mayhap will trust.” The last came out grudgingly, though more from her confusion than any real doubt of his sincerity.
He sighed and released her face. His big body slumped, as with resignation. Perhaps he had hoped for full pardon. She would reserve that, however, until she became clearer about her position in Lord Braeton’s affections.
They sat together in companionable silence, until Geoffrey spoke again. “I would ask one thing, my lady, if you would tell me.”
A moment’s hesitation then she nodded.
“What knight and lady did you choose? I have yet to tell the king.”
Her smile must have reached from ear to ear, so delighted was she that he had indeed left the choice to her. “Sir Erec and Lady Enid, my lord. An it please you.”
Geoffrey kissed the hair near her brow. “It does please me, love. ’Tis perfect for us. I could not have chosen better. Likely would not have. I would have selected the Lady of the Fountain for you, or the Lady of the Lake, perhaps. Lady of my heart, for certain.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes then sank his mouth onto hers in a true, deep kiss. Her head fell back, his lips so insistent she could not have found the strength to protest had she desired to. He set his hands to roam down to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. Persistent, he slid his tongue over the contours of her lips, now burning with a delicious fire.
Held against him, unable to move, almost unable to breathe, Alyse reveled in his caresses as wave after wave of glorious sensation flooded her body. Kindling passion wrested all thought from her mind, and she wantonly returned his kiss, pressing her mouth to his. His lips awoke the flame she had only vaguely sensed before. Transformed it into an inferno that began at her mouth then blossomed unexpectedly in her breast and between her thighs.
But when his tongue sought to part her lips, a shock bolted through her. His intent overwhelmed her, and she feared the passion she had unleashed in this man. She tried to push away from the iron arms that held her, turned her head to deny his insistent mouth.
At the loss of her lips, Geoffrey
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