Today I delighted to be able to bring you a HOT extract from the new Cleis Press anthology Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors: Erotic Romance for Women – edited by Delilah Devlin
This excerpt is from “To Love A King’s Man” by Emma Jay…
“A knock on the door startled him. He turned to see a copper tub edging into the room, borne by two strapping lads, followed by three maids, all lugging steaming pots of water. The boys set the tub by the fire, and the young women filled it, watching him through their lashes. All but one, who met his gaze straight on. He wondered if she’d be the one to bathe him.
His loins stirred at the thought. She was a pretty thing, and bold. He liked a bold woman in bed. He opened his mouth to send the others off when the door opened and Evanna stepped in, a towel draped over her arm, a basket in her hand.
When last he’d seen her, she’d been all legs and arms, so scrawny a good wind could blow her away, her hair wild down her back. She’d run after his horse the day he’d left, tears streaming down her cheeks. Now she was a woman grown, her expression serene, her hair confined in a net at the back of her head, a net he suddenly wanted to toss away. He blamed the errant thought on his earlier arousal. She was his hostess and the sister of his best friend.
His gaze drifted over Evanna’s simple dress, the soft fabric following the lines of her body, curving over her full breasts, hugging her trim waist. The shape of her body was imprinted on him since he’d held her against him on the stairs.
She dismissed the servants with a word, and they were alone, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and his pulse beating in his ears.
Impossible, since all his blood now pooled between his legs.
She set the basket on the chair by the fire. Soap and other supplies peeked out. “You don’t mean to bathe me.”
“It’s my duty.”
“Evanna, it’s not… I’m bastard born.”
“And a champion to the king. I’m honored to do it.”
He blew out a laugh. “It is…odd.” She’d been just a girl, and now she was his hostess.
“But not distasteful, I hope.”
The baldness of her words shocked him into stillness.
“You won’t be the first man I’ve bathed. I am a widow.”
He’d known her husband, the old lecherous bastard, about the size of one of Conal’s arms, and with half the number of Conal’s teeth. Conal doubted the old man had shown his young wife the pleasures that could be had between a man and a woman.
The pleasures Conal wanted to show her. If he took off his clothes in his current state, his intentions would be clear.
How would she react? The way she watched him now, he couldn’t be sure…
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Happy reading everyone,