Templar Knight: Forbidden Bride



 

Hardened, battle-weary warrior Reynaud has forgotten what it is like to be in the company of a beautiful woman, to delight in her comfort and warmth. On his return to Granada from the Crusades, he is drawn to Leonor and senses that she could heal his hidden scars. However, she is set upon a dangerous path, a path they travel together, becoming closer every day - and every night. But their passion is forbidden....


     

Excerpt from Templar Knight: Forbidden Bride
by Lynna Banning....

Emirate of Granada, 1167

     

     A pain keen as a lance pierced Reynaudís heart. Despite his Templar vows, he still ached for the sound of a womanís voice, the comfort of a womanís soft body. He thought he had forgotten loneliness, but beneath his white surcoat he was still a man, was he not?

     He shifted uneasily in the high-backed saddle. He had lost something during the long years of fighting, something he could not name. After a time it had mattered not who was responsible for the pile of mangled corpses outside every city gate. Death smelled the same for Christian and Saracen.

     A shadow danced against the whitewashed wall. He laid one hand on his sword hilt, studying the silent street of the shoemakers. Someone was following him. He stepped the nervous horse into the nearest alley, and when it split in two directions, he took the wider path, then doubled back, threading his way through narrow, twisting streets he only half-remembered.

     Behind him a gate latch clicked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the scrolled iron barrier swing open on noiseless hinges, then glimpsed a splash of crimson before an unseen hand slowly pushed the gate closed. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

     He studied the cobbled street. Even the scraping of the cicadas had ceased, and the feeling that someone watched him sent a snake crawling down his spine. He spurred the horse forward, every nerve alert.

     A shrouded figure glided from an alley and he automatically maneuvered the stallion to block the manís path. Resting his hand on his sword, he bent forward.

     It was not a man, but a young woman! He stared down at her. From under the hood of her scarlet cloak she looked back at him with defiance in her eyes.


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