Love Talker's Daughter

Chapter Eleven

Colin stood in the dappled light, watching Morgan as she walked into the wood. By the Lady she was beautiful. She tipped her head back, a tiny smile playing on her lips. A gentle breeze blew through the air, teasing her curls around her face.

Suddenly, she stiffened, her gaze darting to the trees, her body poised to run. Colin stepped forward, reaching her side in two strides.

“Morgan. What’s wrong?”

She squealed and jumped, her hand going to her neck. “God, Colin, you startled me.” She gave a weak laugh.

He reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair. “I dinna mean to startle ye, but ye looked so scared.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “I thought someone was watching me from the trees and couldn’t find them.”

“Ah, I shall plead guilty.”

She arched a brow. “Yeah? And why were you watching?”

He slid his hand to her cheek, his thumb stroking over her petal soft skin. “Because ye are so beautiful, and ye tug at me heart.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Morgan inched closer until their lips were only a breath apart.

“Aye, more lovely than any of the Fae.”

Morgan leaned forward, her lips grazing his. Wanting more, Colin lifted his other hand to her face, tilting her head slightly as he settled his lips against hers. His body buzzed at the contact. He traced her lips with his tongue, memorizing their shape, their delicate texture. Morgan moaned, opening to him, like Morning Glory to the sun. He deepened the kiss, drinking in her flavor―honey and berries.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing close to him, her curves melting against the hard planes of his body. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently before moving on to explore the muscles of his back. He shifted her closer, as ripples of pleasure trailed in the wake of her touch.

Colin left his hands on her face, his fingers buried in her glorious curls. He knew if he just skimmed his hands over her, it wouldn’t be enough. He’d want to explore every inch of her, and this wasn’t the time or place for that. As private as it seemed here, anyone could come upon them, and he didn’t want to share her with anyone else.

Morgan brought her hands to his chest, her questing fingers toying with the buttons of his doublet, her movements shy, tentative. Colin eased away, keeping her face framed in his hands. Morgan’s eyelids fluttered then opened, revealing her passion-filled gaze. Her lips curved, begging him to sample them again.

“Forgive me,” he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I should not have been so forward.”

Morgan leaned in, her lips drifting over his. “I didn’t mind.”

“I know, but tisn’t proper.” Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he stepped back, breaking the moment.

“Do you always do what’s proper?”

He nodded, his back stiffening at the censure in her tone. “I have no choice in the matter. ’Tis what is expected by me mother.”

She chuckled. “All mothers expect their children to behave properly.” She nudged him with her hip. “But that doesn’t mean you always have to do what they say.”

“Aye, I do. Ye dinna understand.” He paced a few steps away. “If I were Liam, then I could damn propriety, but I am not him, and I cannot. The ramifications are too great.”

“Why? What is so special about you that you have to always fall in line?”

Colin stared at her, hoping his next words wouldn’t bring their budding relationship to an end before it truly began. He’d been hoping to keep his true identity secret a while longer, knowing how it would change things between them. But now he had no choice. He had to tell her exactly who he was, and pray to the Good Lady that  it didn’t ruin things.

 “I have to fall in line. ’Tis expected of me as heir to the Seelie throne.” He let out a sigh. “My name be Colin du Vale, son of Morgana du Vale. Your namesake and the Seelie Queen.”