Page 5 of An Enchanted Knight

Gwen gave him a droll look and decided to play along. “Maybe you could ask more nicely? I am going to try my best. But I must admit, I’ve never broken enchantments. I have no idea how to start.”

The intensity in his eyes at her words unsettled her. The gold specks in the sea of green seemed to flicker.

Slowly, he reached out and touched her arm, his face tight in concentration. It was as if it took a lot of effort to control his movements. His fingers slid unhurriedly down her arm. His warm fingertips traced a path leaving a trail of heat that she’d not felt in a long time. A ghost had never touched her before—well, not like this.

Sure, ghosts had passed through her, attempted to possess her and once a poltergeist shoved her across a room, but all of them felt cold, frigid. Tristan's touch was warm, human, and her reaction to it much too real.

She finally reacted and scooted away from his hand. “Can you give me some idea as to what I am to do?” Gwen gave him her best ‘back off’ look and waited for him to reply.

Her eyes widened at noticing a change in the color of his eyes. They’d darkened, emerald green now. Hesitantly she lowered her gaze to his mid-section.

The ghost was aroused!

Forcing her gaze away, she spoke in what she hoped was a calm, unfazed manner. “Can you give me an idea about where I’m supposed to start? You know, with this enchantment. How can I help you, Tristan?” She repeated.

He didn’t reply, instead leaned in closer. She froze. Was the apparition going to kiss her?

For an inexplicable reason, she hoped so.

Chapter Three

Despite the fog in his head, Tristan caught himself and moved away from the gorgeous woman in the bed.

What was he doing? This was certainly not the time to attempt to seduce a woman. For starters, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to remain in the current realm much longer, and secondly... he had more important things to consider.

His freedom for instance.

How long since he’d been with a woman, a beautiful one like the one who watched him with interest? Did he even remember what it felt like to hold someone? How long since he’d been thoroughly spent, buried deep inside a vixen like the one before him now? He dared not try to ponder it any longer.

A part of him he thought long dormant awakened. Was it hope? By the hammering of his heart underneath his breast, just the possibility was almost more than he could bear.

He looked down at the enchantress who eyed him in return with suspicion. He was willing to bet the woman didn’t realize what an enticing sight she made. If not for his current state, he would not hesitate to join her in the bed, kiss her until she gave in, and then make love to her for hours.

Would she enjoy his touch?

She was lovely, her rumpled midnight-black hair cascading down her back, a curtain of silken tresses, like velvet fabric it swayed each time she moved. It took all his strength to stop from reaching and wrapping his fingers around it.

Hands fisted, he stalked back to the window, his favorite element of each room. Windows served as portals where he could look outside and catch glimpses of the changes that had transpired through the years.

Hundreds of years of trials and captivity, and now at last he had hope.

Before he could begin to explain the rules of breaking his enchantment, the strong pull jerked at him. Time was up and he had to return.

In a matter of minutes the pull would become too strong, and he’d not be able to resist and be forced to return to the alter-world.

Tristan rushed back to the bed. Without thinking, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled the surprised woman to him.

His mouth covered hers.

Her gasp the only invitation he needed. Driving his tongue deep into her mouth, he almost collapsed on weakened legs from her taste. Mint intermingled with her natural flavor, reminding him of the wild fragrant plants that grew on the Scottish countryside.

Too long. So many years, waiting for this moment. How he missed women, their touch, their scent, and their taste. The kiss became savage, hungry, and passionate. Tristan feared he’d lose control, his craving barely satisfied. For a split second he wondered if he hurt her, but as if on cue, she moaned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands traveling to his upper arms to pull him closer. The feel of her breasts pressed against him was his undoing, he groaned at the intensity of the moment.

No longer in control, his hands slid to the small of her back. The feel of her silky hair between his fingers almost brought him to his knees, then the pull became too strong, and he could not fight it.

“No,” she whispered as he vanished.

Tristan hit the ground hard, his body convulsed in agony. Each time he moved between planes and returned to the alter-world, the pain was excruciating. He writhed from the torture, a feeling like that of muscles peeling away from bones. Clenching his jaw to keep from screaming, he could not stop the tears that flowed down his face. A firm hand on his shoulder instantly calmed the pain, until finally the hurting subsided, becoming bearable.