Shattered Vows by Carol Townend

would be like to kiss a man I was truly interested in – someone I had chosen. I didn’t lie when I told you I had no lover. I have never known a man. But...but if I had the choice, I would choose someone like you, someone who is tall, and strong, and proud – someone whom I desire.’
    ‘You flatter me.’ Oliver said. His mouth was strangely tender.
    ‘Is so great a sin for a woman to admit to feeling desire? Is it wrong to wish that once, just once, I might know the pleasure of making love to someone who makes my heart beat loud and the blood rush in my ears? Is that so very wrong?’
    He shook his head. ‘It happens often enough. Just be sure you don’t confuse me with your dream. I am far from the paragon you seem to expect. Don’t expect me to fall in love with you.’
    There was a little sputtering noise and the shadows danced up and down the walls.
    ‘The candle’s going out,’ she said.
    Her pulse began to race. She saw in his face that he would make love to her and now that it had come upon her, she was a bundle of nerves.
    Oliver slid his hand round her neck and combed his fingers through her hair. It tumbled like a cloak about her shoulders. He glanced at the wall sconce. ‘I’ll light another candle.’ His voice deepened as his hand slid to her waist. ‘I want to watch your face and see your body.’ He pressed a light kiss on her cheek.
    He was only gone a moment or two. Rosamund lay perfectly still, heart pumping. The yellow glow strengthened as he lit another candle. A faint hiss told her he’d placed the new candle on the heel of the old. The shadows steadied.
    Soon, she would know what it was to have a lover. She shivered.
    And then he was beside her again, folding her carefully in strong arms. You’re not cold, are you?’
    She shook her head. ‘No, but I am a nervous. I’m new to this...’
    ‘Hush.’ His lips found hers in a kiss that was oddly chaste. It was very soft, as though he was afraid he might startle her into changing her mind.
    As she warmed to the kiss, her shame melted. It was so good to lie with Oliver’s mouth moving across hers, so good to feel his arms about her. His fingers were playing in her hair, touching her ears. She gave a tiny sigh and pressed closer.
    He lifted his head, gently stroking her cheek. Her face burned under his caress. Overcome with a sudden shyness, she turned her head from his.
    Oliver kissed her neck. She gasped as an arrow of fire seemed to burn its way through her body. With his lips and tongue at her neck, he was making her entire body go up in flames. She gripped his shoulder, kissing it, tasting it. Tasting him. Oliver.
    ‘That’s better,’ he muttered, his breath warming her ear. ‘I thought for a moment you’d forgotten you chose me.’
    Rosamund was beyond speech. It was bad enough trying to breathe. His lips returned to her mouth and she met him eagerly, kiss for kiss. Her fingers tugged at his hair to pull him closer and his answering groan intensified her pleasure. She moved restlessly.
    Oliver’s hand was shaking as he moved it over her breast. God, he couldn’t remember when a girl had felt so responsive. He ached to possess her. He must remember that she was a virgin. He mustn’t rush at her like a callow youth and spoil it for her. He wanted her first, full loving to be filled with wonder and joy.
    Rosamund placed a hand over the one which caressed her breast. ‘Can you feel what you’re doing to my heart?’
    ‘I can feel more than that, my angel.’
    She gave a little laugh. ‘I’m no angel. Unless I’m a fallen one. No angel would beg for love.’
    ‘A fallen angel,’ he repeated, his eyes on the glossy hair which framed her face. ‘Aye. Have you another kiss for me, my beautiful fallen angel?’
    She wound her arms round his neck, reaching for that warm and sensuous mouth, willingly losing herself in sensation such as she had never known. There was no shame in this, only pure enchantment.
    Oliver’s hand