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Excerpt from "Lord of Desire"
A Warner Forever Release
August 2005
ISBN: 0-446-61594-3
©2005 by Paula Quinn
Brynna pushed open the door, but instead of stepping inside, she waited beneath the frame. Her eyes scanned the subtle changes Brand made in the room, and then came to rest on him. Damn him, he had no right looking so brutally handsome and so alive in a room that held the memory of her dead grandsire for so long. And as if those blasted black glistening curls dangling over his eyes wasn’t bad enough, the sight of his bare chest made her completely forget why she had come to his room in the first place. Her mouth went dry. He was still wet. Crystal droplets dripped down the smooth, sleek muscles of his arms and down his neck, forming a thin rivulet that drew her eyes further down to his sculpted belly.
“Lady Brynna.” He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. He reached for his boots and looked up at her again, finally realizing that she hadn’t spoken a word yet. “It’s nice to see you again,” he offered, deciding to treat her more gently than he had when he arrived. After the way William had bellowed at her, she deserved a kinder tone.
“Is it?”
“Nice to see you?” He lifted an eyebrow while he pulled his boots on. She nodded, watching him so closely he thought she might be calculating the best angle in which to come at him with a dagger. His gaze fell to her hands. She held no weapon, but her fingers were clenched into fists. That made him smile, remembering the hellcat that attacked the duke of Normandy after he tricked her. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked mildly.
She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Because my hair is red, mayhap?”
Brand cast her a look before he stood to his feet again and snatched his shirt off the bed. “You have beautiful hair, lady. But what the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Brynna watched him while he dressed. She did her best to keep her voice steady, but the hard lines of his body muddled her thoughts. “I’m not leaving Avarloch,” she blurted. He ran his hand through his wet curls to clear them from his face. Brynna licked her dry lips. “You—you cannot take everything from me and throw me out of the place I’ve lived my whole life.”
“Can I at least convince you to step inside? You’re drawing a crowd.”
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