An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
Embrace the Wind
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Embrace the Wind Copyright © 2007 Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Edited by Mary Moran.
Cover art by Syneca.
Electronic book Publication December 2007
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
EMBRACE THE WIND
Three sets of very hungry eyes followed the handsome warrior as he strode—no,
the owners of those eyes decided—as he strutted down the hallway with his hands
shoved into the pockets of his black leather uniform pants. The flexing of the tight
muscles of his ass was a sight to see and every woman he passed turned her head to
look at him. From the black boots to the black kerchief around his neck, he was an
enticing display of maleness.
“He’s trouble with a capital T,” said the red-haired woman.
“And should be left alone,” the blonde observed.
“Or ridden until he begs for mercy,” the silver-haired woman said on a long sigh.
Her sisters giggled at the remark and giggling was something those two did not do.
It shocked them as much as it did their older sister. They exchanged glances with
furrowed brows then three heads slowly turned in unison to stare at the warrior until
he disappeared around a corner. They were silent for a long time then all three made
rude snorting noises in unison.
“We want him,” the eldest stated.
“Aye, we do,” the middle sister agreed.
“So what do we do about it?” the youngest inquired.
The silver-haired sister folded her arms over a lush chest. “We make him an offer he
dare not refuse.”
“ Maddin vie, mraane .”
Each of the women turned to the man who had wished them a good morning and
bowed their heads respectfully to him.
“ Maddie vie , Lord Kheelan,” they greeted the High Lord of the Council.
Embrace the Wind
“Lady Argent, I would like to speak privately to you when you have a moment.”
“Of course, milord,” the silver-haired woman agreed.
With a slight inclination of his head, the most important man at the Citadel
continued on his way, gray robe rustling around his tall frame.
“What do you suppose he wants?” Corallin Tarnes, the red-haired woman, asked
Argent Ben-Alkazar pursed her sensual lips. “He intercepted our thoughts and
wants to bludgeon me with his unwanted, unwarranted advice as usual,” she said of
her brother. “What else?”
“Hold firm with him, sister. It is time,” Aureolin Belvoir suggested. “We are no
longer underage maidens. We are women and deserve to know the same pleasures as
any woman does.”
“Have no fear, little sister, I intend to see he minds his own business,” Argent
“What he needs is a woman of his own,” Corallin said then lowered her voice. “One
who doesn’t belong to another warrior.”
“Shush!” Argent warned, gray eyes flashing. “We do not speak of that, Cora!”
Chastened, the red-haired woman lowered her head, her green eyes mirroring her
regret. “You are right. My apologies.”
“We have work to do, sisters. I shall see you at the Coir Screeuee ,” Argent told her
sisters, referring to the desk at which the three of them worked.
As she made her way to the offices of the High Council, Argent began to plan what
she would say to her overbearing brother. He—along with the other two lords on the
High Council—could be very highhanded when it came to their sisters. Lord Dunham
Tarnes was Corallin’s brother and Lord Naois Belvoir was Aureolin’s.
Mike Resnick, Michael Kurland