Darcy Branwyn

Worth Fighting For

England, 1192

…She slid her arms around his shoulders. His face was so close that all it took was the slightest movement on his part and his mouth closed over hers.   

Her arms tightened around him and her mouth opened as he kissed her as if was mandatory that he do so. She felt—relief—she’d needed this. His body was warm and firm against the length of hers. His hand smoothed down to her lower back, and then pressed her even closer, Alana gasping against his mouth.

She shifted her hips against him without thought, John groaning. Embarrassed, not used to men noticing her at all much less like this, she tried to pull away, but he caught her back up against him.

“Don’t go,” he breathed, looking into her eyes.

She nodded helplessly…

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