AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Since that is what you require, aye.”
Her expression turns pensive. “Listen, if I’m a responsibility you’d rather not have—”
“I want you anytime, anywhere, and in any way I can take you.” In fact, I find myself curious about the back seat and its dimensions. Could a man of my size fit back there with her, lift her skirt, and—
Olivia frowns. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”
“Arthur’s entire army, including Arthur himself.”
She turns to me with a rapt expression I feel all the way to my cock. Will she never cease to fascinate me?
“What was he like?”
“Arthur? Noble…but human. Genuinely good. Crushed by Guinevere’s betrayal. Camelot’s end was a tragedy, wrought largely by Morgana’s machinations.”
“You really hate her.”
“With everything I am.”
“But without her curse, you’d be long buried and gone. Isn’t there some part of you that’s happy to still be alive? You’ve lived history, not just read about it.”
The only reason I have to be glad for life now is this woman who has bewitched me, Morgana’s descendant.
Dear God, have I fallen that far? I must take care. No matter how warm and pleasant she seems, ’tis possible Olivia practices the same deceit her ancestor wielded.
If that is so, why did she not simply steal the book for her own purposes?
I have not an answer.
“For centuries, I have sought nothing more than to break my curse and die. I believe you and that book are the keys to doing so.”
Olivia gnaws on her bottom lip. “If that’s what you really want, I think you’re crazy, but I’ll help you.”
The grief in her voice tugs at me. Once, I sought naught more than death’s comforting embrace. Now I wonder what will become of Olivia if I find my grave?
Glancing her way, I take in the soft drape of dark hair over her delicate shoulders and her wide violet eyes affixed on the road. Fatigue is already smudging shadows under her eyes, and I like not that she looks paler.
If I am gone, can she live without me?
Bram said the breaking of the mate bond I share with her would be temporarily painful, and she would carry a wound of grief. But because our mating is new, our connection is still fragile enough that she will survive. If I leave her with energy, mayhap she will endure and eventually find another mate.
The possibility makes me seethe with rage. No man will ever touch what is mine. I will gut any who try.
Aye, and if you go, who will protect her from Mathias?
Soon, we arrive at A Touch of Magic. Together, we carry in the carvings that represent nearly two centuries of my work.
Most of these pieces, I whittled as talismans against my solitude. As she sets them thoughtfully on the shelves throughout the small gallery, I cannot deny that her desire to share my art with others pleases me.
To most, I was renowned for my prowess on the battlefield and in the bedchamber. Olivia sees beyond that to the man beneath.
Smitten fool. Such sentiment for a witch and a Le Fay puts me in peril for deception and heartache later.
Olivia sets my carvings all over the gallery, making prime places for her favorites and adjusting the lighting.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
She turns. “No, thank you. These carvings will save my business.”
