Prologue
1304
In a field in France
“Your father will be back today,and he won’t be pleased you haven’t practiced.”
Willow Hawke glanced at Christian Sterling over her horse’s body. His hands were on his hips impatiently. His blue eyes bore into her with a lidded look that left her breathless. How could she deny him anything? She ran a hand over her horse’s tan flanks and bent out of his vision to close her eyes and silently gasp. He was gorgeous. And strong. She loved the way his tunic fit snuggly over his torso. At sixteen summers, she had never been kissed and often imagined what Christian’s kiss would be like.
“Sometimes it’s good to take a break,” she answered. And watch him for days without her father or her sisters knowing.
Christian crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. “If you can disarm me, I’ll lie to your father and tell him you’ve been practicing every day.”
Willow shot up straight, gazing at him with first shock and then suspicion. Her father would believe him. Christian had lived with her family for almost a full year now, and her father had come to trust and rely on him. Christian’s offer held appeal. Her father would be proud of her for practicing every day. “You would do that?”
Christian’s smile grew until his perfect white teeth showed. “I won’t make it easy.”
He thought she couldn’t do it; it was the only reason he would make the offer. She was good at sword fighting but not as good as her sisters, Raven and Sage. Still, she knew some tricks to send his sword flying and win.
Willow nodded, relishing the chance to prove she could disarm him and the opportunity to see the pride in her father’s eyes when Christian lied to him. She flipped her horse’s reins over a tree branch and grinned. “Lead the way.”
Christian spun confidently and headed toward a clearing they occasionally practiced in.
It gave Willow a chance to admire his tight bottom as he walked before her.
When he entered the clearing encircled by trees and long grass, sunlight drenching the flattened stalks like rain, he turned to her and pulled his sword from its sheath. “Remember, the sword is an extension of your arm.”
Willow rolled her eyes. Father had told her that since she was young. She slid her sword out. “Then I’m going to hate cutting off your arm.”
That charming smile blossomed on Christian’s face.
Willow arced her sword from side to side, loosening her muscles. Christian was not going to make this easy. She would have to use every trick in her arsenal.
“Are you ready?” Christian asked.
Willow raised her weapon.
Christian attacked, striking her sword. Clangs rang out through the glade.
She easily blocked his move. The impact of the blade sent ripples through her arm. He was warming up. He was much better than this. But if she could surprise him, perhaps she could end this quickly.
He shifted his gaze to her as if he could read her thoughts and grinned.
She lunged in, driving him backward with a flurry of swipes. She had lost her chance. He was ready for her. She would have to be patient and wait for an opportunity to present itself.
They pranced back and forth, attacking and defending until they were out of breath.
“You really think you can disarm me?” Christian asked.
His deep voice made Willow smile. She knew him well enough to know he was taunting her into a foolish move. Willow stared at him, her sword held before her. He was so handsome, with blue eyes twinkling beneath the hot summer sun. His firm, square jaw dripped with perspiration from their workout. Yet, even beneath the warm sun, his sword arm was sure, the tip of his blade pointed directly at her heart. “With but a smile, sir.”
“I’m no knight, and you know it,” he said and swung his sword at her.
She had purposely goaded him into a reckless attack, and she caught his sword with her own, twisting her wrist. Normally, the effort would have been good enough to fling his weapon out of his grip. But this was Christian. And he was good. Very good. He held onto his weapon.
He smiled. “Nice, Willow. You almost had me.”
“Almost,” she repeated without letting her disappointment show. Slowly, she stepped around him, keeping her sword between them. “Father would say almost doesn’t win a battle.”
