Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture by Ruth A. Casie Page A

body ached to crush her against him and hold her close. He wanted to feel her arms around him, her lips touching his—he wanted to bury himself deep inside her and shout his passion to her world and to his. He flexed his fists to control the building tension.
    She stood in profile, bent over a large document on the table. Her long dark hair fell loose in a gentle wave, creating a soft drape hiding her face. His fingers itched to feel the silkiness of her tresses once again. His eyes lingered but a moment more then swept down her body.
    He stood peering at her, amazed and shaken. He’d expected her clothes would appear different but he hadn’t expected them to be so…revealing. Her black breeches molded to her trim hips and long, shapely legs. The lower band of her oversized knitted shirt rested snuggly on her hips. He remembered every inch of her with a longing that was difficult to control. He told himself to relax but his heart kept hammering away.
    “My heart,” he whispered. Wave after wave of relief washed over him. He was with her at last.
    Rebeka glanced at the men. “George. What are you doing there?”
    “Showing off Fayne Manor. We’ll be right there.” George turned, giving Arik a congenial pat on the back. “Are you ready?” At his nod they filed out of the gallery and headed for the stairs.
    He had climbed these steps hundreds of times but now the farther he descended the more he moved away from all he knew and loved. He would be foolhardy if he denied his apprehension. Awareness gave him an advantage. He saw things around him others overlooked. He was going someplace new and from what Rebeka had told him all those months ago it would be very exciting. This change in plan was manageable. As soon as he understood the state of things he’d ask George for his assistance to return. This was a small delay.
    He straightened his back and continued down the stairs. Each step took him farther away from his century and closer to the new one until near the bottom the twenty-first century closed in around him.
    George drove past him. “Let me do the talking.” The barrister stood by the ballroom’s large carved double doors, his hand on the knob. George straightened his shoulders and settled a comfortable smile on his face then turned to him—was he ready? Hoping he appeared confident, he gave the barrister a nod. George opened the door and they stepped inside.
    “Hello, Rebeka.” George placed Rebeka’s staff next to the door.
    Rebeka turned toward them, a large piece of parchment in her hand. “Hi, George. You’ll have to tell me if your theory was correct. I haven’t gone into the tower. If you hadn’t told me about the runes there I’d never have known.”
    Her eyes scanned his face. His heart pounded but he kept silent. He was satisfied to be near her—for the moment. She, on the other hand, seemed to be fascinated with his…clothes? She stole another glance at his eyes. He didn’t turn away.
    “I think my theory’s promising. I’m sorry if we’re disturbing you.” George wandered over toward her.
    She laid the parchment back on the table. “That’s okay. I need to put everything away and get ready for our guests. They’ll be arriving soon.”
    George turned to him. “To help maintain the manor, it’s open to the public, for a fee. We’ve re-created some historic events throughout the grounds. Rebeka had wonderful ideas about expanding the program to immerse visitors in a total experience. Soon we’ll be reopening the entire manor and from the time our guests step inside the gate until they leave, they’ll experience life in the seventeenth century. We still have a few things to do but we’re moving along quite well.”
    She cocked her head to the side. “George, are you going to introduce me?” Her eyes were wide and her voice was soft.
    “Of course. Rebeka.” George grasped Arik’s shoulder. “This is Arik…my distant cousin.”
    He searched her violet eyes he knew so