Home

Mageverse Books

Bookshelf

Master of Swords

She paused a few feet away, apparently too focused on her task to realize she was being watched. He inhaled, trying to sample her scent without being too obvious about it. She smelled richly sexy to his vampire senses, but there was no male scent lingering on her skin. Probably unattached then.

Just the way he liked them.

As he'd known it would, the Desire woke, sending a wave of hunger through his blood. His fangs began to ache, and an urgent heat spun into his balls. He wasn't surprised. He hadn't fed in a couple of days -- he'd been busy helping Gwen and Arthur find the second grail last night, and he'd spent the night before that rescuing the girl. Between them, he and Kel had used a great deal of magic. His body needed a woman, needed her blood and the sweat, erotic burn of her climax pumping magic back into him. Now.

Unfortunately, the one he had his eye on now would probably end up with whoever her assignment was.

As if on cue, her dark eyes widened, startled, as the piece of paper suddenly flew from her hand. Before Gawain could react, it zipped toward him and disappeared right into the center of his chest.

This one's yours, Gawain, Morgana's voice said clearly in his mind. Don't get her killed, and try not to inflict more psychological damage than you can help.

The girl blinked those doe eyes up at him. They widened even more as she realized who he was.

"Umm. Hello." She paused and cleared her throat. "I'm Lark McGuin." Her voice held a hint of a sexy drawl, rich and smoky and as southern as Kentucky bourbon. She offered her hand for a handshake, and he took it. Her long fingers felt fragile and warm in his. "I guess you'll be my ... mentor?"

"Apparently. I'm Gawain." She looked startled – at least she'd heard of him. He reached up to tap the hilt of the dragon sword sheathed across his back. "This is my partner, Kel."

The dragon extended his long neck and cocked his head, studying Lark with jeweled eyes. "My pleasure."

"It's an honor." To her credit, she spoke directly to Kel. New Maja tended to ignore him as if he was nothing but the sword he appeared. "Lord Tristan is my great-grandfather, and my grandfather loved telling stories about the Round Table." Turning her attention to Gawain again, she cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable. "So what do we do now?"

Gawain suspected his smile was more than a little suggestive. "What would you like to do?"

Unease flickered in that chocolate gaze, and she shrugged. "Whatever you think best."

He frowned. Was there a hint of fear in her scent? No, he must be mistaken. Why would she fear him?