A Love Unveiled

Chapter Sixteen

For a time, Alana could do no more then glare angrily at the door, the last of the Norman's words replaying in her mind and the searing remembrance of his kiss left her just as swayed as his promised retort.

Fallon.

The golden Norman was a mystery. How could one warrior have such a startling affect on those surrounding him?

His golden appearance and proud disposition conveyed an image of a powerful, tawny lion. His eyes of that unusual amber glow radiated such power and command but beneath that hardened, golden exterior, she sensed a man worth knowing.

A sudden tremor raced down her spine at the image of the opposing man from the village. The man called Curran reflected the very opposite of his golden brother. She struggled to believe that, that man could be kin to 'The Fury'. His eyes had held no warmth, no detection of compassion for human life. His eyes, as silver and ghostlike as the moon and hair as black as the night, reflected a sly, black wolf.

Alana nearly laughed aloud of her comparison of the two men but the more she pondered the thought, she knew there was no denying that the men were as untamed as their reflected predators and with that followed a sudden, wary notion.

Which man should she fear more-the wolf or the lion?

Fallon stalked the corridors, seeking to put as much distance between he and his Saxon hellcat. She was a fire under his skin and as much as he longed to ignore the searing effect she had on him, there was no denying his immediate attraction to Alana. No woman had ever troubled his thoughts or had such a magnetic pull on his desire but something about the fiery lass stirred him in a way that others had failed to do. He was no wet-behind-the-ears kind of lad and was accustomed to having women in his bed, but Alana was an unlikely sort, the kind he had never encountered. It was obvious from her heated words and angry-sage eyes that she harbored some sort of animosity for him. He intended to unravel her reasons for her anger and discover the woman who had tended him so gently in the forest.

He was not the sort of man familiar with pursuing women but if any woman was worth chasing, Alana would be his match.

The thought of having her in his bed was such an intriguing thought he nearly groaned aloud. He imagined her fiery tresses splayed across his pillow and her body arching to his caresses as he claimed her.

He had not given much thought on what he would do with her once they reached Linden. He had thought of no other woman since that time in the village and now that he had her in his possession, he could think of none other than having her in his bed but he knew it would not occur without fight. His fiery Saxon had no intention of becoming his thrall, let alone his bed wench.

She would attempt to escape, of that, he was certain and there were many outside the Linden walls that would take pleasure in seizing a fiery prize as his.

The thought of another man touching Alana heated his blood. He would skewer a man without hesitation if they so much as considered it. The thought was as confounding as it were maddening but he knew without doubt he would sever the earth to ensure her safety.

He smirked inwardly-was he an amorous sap? The thought was slightly unnerving and so he settled for lustful cad, as she had referred him.

The hour grew late and the hall was all but deserted aside from one. Curran's gray eyes leveled on the fire burning low within the hearth, his thoughts disengaged from the object of his stare as he favored a beaker of ale.