Her One Desire Read Free Page A

“If I am to aid you, I would know your crime first.”
    He could hardly tell her he was a spy seeking information to convince the King of Scotland to align with France. She waited for his answer, no doubt expecting a heinous crime, and no crime was more heinous than being a Scot in England. “I am Broderick Maxwell, heir of Lord Magnus Maxwell, Warden of the West Marches.”
    “You are a son of Scotland?”
    “Aye.” This information didn’t seem to alarm her. “Do you hold me responsible in any way for your brother’s death?”
    How many held her da’s profession against her? Broc certainly couldn’t hold Lady Ives responsible for Aiden’s illtimed desire to philander with an English skirt. Broc stepped forward. Instead of backing down, Lady Ives raised herself up to her full height, which was relatively tall for a woman. Her gold eyes demanded his honesty. “The executioner is guided by your country’s nobles. His hand is not your own.” Her flawless skin smoothed over high cheekbones, and the force of the breath she blew cooled his chest. Her fingers released the ties at her neck. The black mantle slipped from her head. Light from behind cast fire-red highlights through glossy sable hair, cascading in soft waves to her waist. The quality and daring cut of her fawn-colored gown bespoke of wealth, nobility—temptation. His hands fisted, pulling tight the chain binding his wrists. The woman was indeed one of God’s finest creations. The monks at Dryburgh would be sorely disappointed in the wayward direction of his thoughts. They’d trained him well, yet he could not draw his eyes from this angel of fire.
    “If I aid your escape out of the city,” she began, pulling his attention from her bodice to her face, “and see to the mending of your wounds, would you offer me escort in return?”
    “Escort?” he asked, unable to hide the mocking question in his tone. “You mean you seek my protection.” He must be wowf for even considering a pact with this woman. Damn the devil himself for placing her in his path. Her wide eyes reeked of desperation and he couldn’t help but wonder whom she ran from. What was he supposed to do? Leave her?
    Whoever hunted her would most likely turn her over to her da for punishment. She lowered her lids, releasing him from the imprisonment of her eyes, and pulled the tails of her sleeves into her hands. “I seek sanctuary.”
    “Whom do ye need protecting from, Lady Ives? What crime have you committed?”
    Her eyes opened to him, glistening with unshed tears. “I have had the misfortune of being bora to the Reaper of the Realm.”
    She probably could have confessed to killing her king, and he still would have given her aid. He would undoubtedly regret his next words. “I will escort ye.”
    Her lips curved slightly at the corners, and a little flutter tickled his gut. Why did he suddenly feel like he was betraying the fair Lady Juliana?

    Chapter
2

    Through
multiple
rays
of
light,
Lizzy
watched
Lord
Maxwell
drape
her
mantle around
his
back
and
fumble
with
the
ties
at
his
neck.
The
tincture
already
overtook his
fingers.

“Allow
me.”
She
leaned
in
and
relieved
him
of
his
task.
The
hairs
at
the hollow
of
his
neck
tickled
the
backs
of
her
fingers.

Her
gaze
went
from
the
knot bobbing
in
his
throat
to
his
eyes
to
see
if
he’d
seen
her
shudder. He closed his eyes, drew a sharp breath, and then snapped his head side to side. He pushed past her without a word of gratitude and stepped toward the exit. The man behaved like a … well… a Scot. She must have experienced a moment of madness to ask a man of his breeding to offer her aid. “Keep your head bowed. We’ll go north up Watling Street toward the Skinners. With any luck, the majority of London will already be at the cathedral.” He ripped through the laced vines in two passes