Master of Desire Lacey Alexander (novels to read in english .txt) 📖

An Ellora’s Cave  Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Master  of Desire

ISBN #  1-4199-0376-4

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Master of Desire Copyright©  2005  Lacey  Alexander

Edited by: Heather OsbornCover art by:  Christine Clavel

Electronic  book Publication: September  2005

This book  may not be reproduced or  used in  whole  or  in part by  any means existing without written permission  from the publisher, Ellora’s  Cave  Publishing, Inc.® 1056  Home  Avenue,  Akron OH 443103502.

This book  is  a  work of fiction and  any resemblance to persons,  living  or dead, or places, events  or locales is purely coincidental. The characters  are  productions  of the  authors’ imagination and  used  fictitiously.

Warning:

The following material contains graphic sexual  content meant for  mature  readers.  Master of Desire  hasbeen rated  E–rotic by  a minimum of  three independent reviewers.

Ellora’s  Cave Publishing offers three levels  of  Romantica™  reading  entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and  X (X-treme).

S-ensuous  love  scenes are explicit and  leave nothing  to  the imagination.

E-rotic  love  scenes  are  explicit, leave  nothing to the  imagination, and are high  in  volume  per  the overallword count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy  material that  some readers findobjectionable,  such  as bondage,  submission, same sex  encounters, forced seductions,  and  so forth. E-rated titles  are the  most graphic  titles we carry; it is  common, for  instance, for  an  author to  use words such  as

“fucking”, “cock”,  “pussy”,  and  such  within their  work of  literature.

X-treme  titles  differ  from E-rated titles only in  plot  premise  and  storyline  execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the  letter X tend to  contain controversial subject matter not for the  faint  of  heart.

BRIDES OF  CARALON:

MASTER OF  DESIRE

Lacey Alexander

Dedication

The Brides of Caralon series is dedicated to Leonie Daniels, who first encouraged me to try my hand at erotica, and to Anya  Bast, who gave me a helpful tip or two along the way.

Master of Desire

Prologue

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Teesia’s skin prickled with  awareness as she shifted her  attention to the dark man across the room. As she’d suspected, his gray  gaze burned into her, forcing her to look away quickly. Her heart pounded in her chest and the juncture of her thighs tingled.

Despite the quick glance, she’d gotten a good enough look. Smooth raven hair, as dark as her own, fell past his shoulders, and a shadowy stubble  dusted the bottom half of his olive-hued face.  Black leather encased his body from his broad shoulders all the way to his boots. He was a study in darkness, a creature of the night—simply leaningagainst the wall, arms crossed, staring.

Beneath the long feasting table where she  sat, she grabbed onto her older sister’s wrist. “Maven, who  is  that?”

Maven turned from where she’d been speaking  with her husband, Dane. “Who is who?”

Teesia could hardly point the man out, of  course, and now she didn’t even want  Maven to look, lest he  know they were talking about him. His gaze continued to brand her. “Don’t turn your head,” she warned, “but he’s clad in  black, with dark hair, and…”  Something about him makes me feel like  I’m melting from the inside out.

“And what?” her sister asked impatiently.

Teesia swallowed past the lump in her throat. Ares above, she’d never had such an instant and visceral reaction to a man. It was at once frightening and scintillating. “Andhe keeps looking at me.” She took a long sip  from her wine goblet to distract herself.

Teesia watched as her sister cast a subtle sideways glance across the room.  Fortunately, he was easy to spot—not the  sort of man who blended with the crowd. “Ah,” Maven said. “That’s Ralen of Charelton.”

“Charelton?” The region lay only a few days  journey south of Teesia’s own home in  the Myrtell area of Caralon, and like Myrtell, bordered the sea. “Why have I not heard of him before?”

“He came into power there only within the  last year, I believe, on the death of his

father, Granick.”

Teesia pulled in her breath and took  another sip of wine. No wonder the man looked so fierce. Granick had been known  throughout all Caralon as a ferocious and terrifying warrior, not to be angered—and the reputation had persisted even into his old age. As a daughter  of Enrick, Ruler  of Caralon, Teesia knew Granick had guarded the domain’s southern border her entire life.  “Does this Ralen now  guard Caralon to thesouth, as his father did?”

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Lacey Alexander

Maven nodded. “Dane tells me this is the first time he’s met Ralen, but he considers

him a formidable man of power and thought  it wise to make his acquaintance.” The autumn feast in Dane’s northern region  of Rawley was a celebration of  Maven’s  pregnancy,  but as royal daughters, both girls knew that any meeting of such wealth and  authority in one place became political, as  well. And if Dane, of all men, considered  Ralen formidable, then it was a description surely well-earned.

Teesia was sorely tempted to gaze back at  him, bold and brazen. But she couldn’t  quite make herself do it. Perhaps more wine  would help. She reached for the wineskin  on the table before her, refilling her goblet.

Maven glared. “Mother said  one  cup for you.”

But Teesia only smirked. Now that Maven was married and pregnant, she thought  she could treat Teesia like a child?

Just then, their younger sister, Laela, approached behind them, bending to whisper loudly in Teesia’s ear. “That man is  watching you!” And then she pointed!

Horrified, Teesia spun to push Laela’s arm  to  her side. “Must you be so obvious?”

Laela’s eyes sparkled with her usual immature excitement. “He  is  obvious. So what difference does it make if we are, too?”

Teesia swallowed nervously, deciding Laela might actually have a good argument.  “But even so…” she reprimanded, then let out a sigh.

“Perhaps it’s your gown. I told you it was cut too low.”

Teesia glanced down at the sea green silk  draping her breasts, which now  tingled beneath the soft fabric. It was the most revealing thing her mother had ever  permittedher to wear, and Laela was simply jealous.

“In fact, if not for your braid, a man might think you were not a virgin,” Laela accused.

Teesia pulled in her breath in mock outrage, yet secretly, she was pleased. The long