The Warlord Claims His Bride Read Free Page B

bottom of the loch that surrounded Landonston. But then there was the sight of a woman with her head downcast, her hands behind her back, and her hair the color of the hottest fires that he had ever seen. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, couldn’t look at anyone else but her. Her body was wrapped in a deep emerald colored dress, a striking complement to the shade of her hair. The material also hugged her curves so he didn’t have to visualize her body, as her endowments were on full display for him to see. Bronson liked a woman with curves and flesh on them that he could hold onto as he plunged in and out of their bodies. He wanted a woman that could handle the type of passion he gave her, and this woman, with the hair the color of flames, looked like she could hold her own between his sheets.
    He moved toward her, and when he stood right in front of her he inhaled deeply. She smelled fruity, yet of the earth. She still had yet to meet his gaze, so he placed his finger under her chin and slowly lifted her head.
    “Lass, look at me.” And then he was staring into the greenest eyes he had ever seen, ones the color of the new and fresh moss that grew along the rocks of the Landonston Loch. He didn’t need to look at any of the other women to know this was the one he wanted. He knew it as well as he knew he needed to take his next breath and where every scar he’d earned on the battlefield was located on his body. This young little lass was exactly what he wanted, and she was who he would claim as a bride.

Chapter Two
     
    Genevieve stared up at the massive man standing before her. She imagined him all those times she had seen him, how he had made her feel, and what she had wanted to do with him. He would be riding on his black stallion, his tartan waving in the air as his men held it high and proud. He was a controlled man, and one that was patient. It was all those things, but so much more, that made a good leader, and as she looked into his icy blue eyes, she knew he was one of those. She knew nothing about the man in front of her aside from what was rumored about his fierceness when taking down his enemy. It had taken him all those years to conquer all and reclaim what was his. But now that she was so close to him, seeing his bare chest that was so hard and defined, but also littered with scars from his battles, she knew that this man could very well be her downfall. How was it possible to want a man as much as she wanted him, but have never said one word to him? His shoulders were so broad, and blocked out everything behind him so she felt like it was just the two of them right here and now.
    “What is yer name, lass?” He spoke so deeply, so intimately almost, that she felt as if he had reached out and stroked his big, weathered and scarred hands along her body.
    She didn’t want to make a fool out of herself or of her family because she couldn’t control herself. “Genevieve McNoland, my Lord.” She tried to sound stronger, but her voice was meek, timid, and probably appealing to a rugged warrior like him. He must like a woman to be submissive, to give herself to him with no fight. But then again Genevieve knew the women had to flock to him most willingly. He didn’t say anything after she spoke, but he did continue to stare at her. Genevieve couldn’t drag her gaze away from him either. His eyes were the color of the noon sky, light and blue, and crystal clear. His hair was dark as night, longer around his face, but still showed off the angular, hard, and square structure of his face. He was as masculine a man as she had ever seen, and again, as was every time he was near or she saw him, Genevieve felt tendrils of desire consume her. For the past twenty years she had been living on this world she had never felt the tingling sensation that started at the base of her spine, or the warmth that settled between her thighs in her nether region. That is, not until she had seen him on his mighty steed that