The Tempted by Donna Grant Page B

moments before Stefan reached the fire in the middle of the camp and nodded to the three men sitting there.
    “Welcome,” the youngest of them said. He had black hair and eyes, and wore a bright red shirt and black pants.
    The elder of the other two had stark white hair cut short. He was carving a piece of wood into a buck and motioned to the rock next to him. “Have a seat.”
    Stefan glanced at the third man, middle-aged, with just a hint of white in his dark hair at the temples. His dark eyes were welcoming as he stood and spooned some soup into a bowl then handed it to Stefan.
    “Thank you,” Stefan said and sat. He sampled a bit of the soup and nodded at the rich flavor. “It’s good.”
    “Of course it is,” the youngest said with a laugh. “Our food is excellent.”
    The elder lifted his eyes to Stefan, his bushy white brows raised on his forehead. “You’re friends with Ronan?”
    “I am.”
    “Close friends?”
    Stefan paused in his eating. “I consider him a brother, as I do Morcant and Daman.”
    “When does Ronan plan on marrying Ana then?”
    Stefan swallowed. Marry? Apparently, they didn’t know Ronan at all. Ronan was as opposed to marriage as the Devil was to Heaven. It wasn’t like Stefan could tell them any of that, but surely Ana knew.  
    Ronan wasn’t the type to take a woman to his bed unless she knew from the beginning there would never be more from him. Ronan wasn’t cruel, but he also didn’t lead a female on.
    “He’s no’ mentioned it to me,” Stefan finally said.
    The youngest chuckled. “If Ana has her way, it’ll be tonight.”
    “He’s all she can talk about,” the middle-aged man said. “By the way, we’ve not introduced ourselves. I’m Yanko. This is my son Luca, and my father Guaril.”
    Stefan nodded his head to each of them. “I’m Stefan Kennedy.”

    ~ ~ ~

    Despite talk of Ronan’s impending marriage that he knew nothing about, Stefan finished his meal listening to the three men chatter of their travels. He didn’t understand their need to move from place to place. It was almost as if they couldn’t remain still. It was partly due to the fact that no one would allow them to remain, but it was also in their blood to wander.
    When Guaril finished his carving, he handed it to Stefan to inspect. Stefan was impressed with the skill displayed. Guaril had perfectly captured the likeness of a red deer from the hooves to the eyes to the antlers.
    “This is fine craftsmanship, Guaril.”
    Luca smiled. “My grandfather is a master. We sell many of his carvings.”
    “I keep trying to teach Luca as I did Yanko,” Guaril said with a grin directed at his grandson. “But he lacks the dedication.”
    Yanko slapped his son on the back. “I was the same. He’ll grasp it soon enough.”
    “Here,” Guaril said and tossed the small dagger to Luca.
    Surprised, Luca caught it and then held it up over his head causing even Stefan to smile as the three laughed.
    The night was suddenly shattered by an anguished scream, a soul-deep, fathomless cry that was dredged from the depths of someone’s soul.  
    Stefan was immediately on guard. He searched the camp and saw Ronan first. He stood outside of Ana’s wagon, shirtless with his hand on the hilt of his sword, looking at an old woman who was staring at something in the grass.
    The next instant, Morcant hurriedly exited a wagon still fastening his kilt. Stefan slowly stood and glanced behind him to find Daman standing outside the circle of wagons with a resigned expression.
    “Who is that?” Luca asked in a strangled whisper.
    Stefan turned his gaze back to Ronan and the old woman. That’s when he saw the bright pink and blue skirts of the body in the grass. It was Ana, a dagger still sticking out of her stomach. Their night of fun and revelry was over.
    By the looks exchanged amongst the gypsies, there was no way Stefan and his friends were going to be able to leave without a fight. The smiles from the gypsies