The Wyndmaster's Lady by Charlotte Boyett-Compo | NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble
The Wyndmaster's Lady

The Wyndmaster's Lady

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by Charlotte Boyett-Compo
     
 

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A WyndMaster is an expert swordsman. He controls his blade as though it were a natural extension of his own arm. With a flick of his wrist he can slit the throat of his opponent with ease. With a single parry, he can pierce his enemy’s heart and send the man’s soul to hell. He has been highly trained by master swordsmen with the highest caliber of

Overview

A WyndMaster is an expert swordsman. He controls his blade as though it were a natural extension of his own arm. With a flick of his wrist he can slit the throat of his opponent with ease. With a single parry, he can pierce his enemy’s heart and send the man’s soul to hell. He has been highly trained by master swordsmen with the highest caliber of expertise in the use of the blade.
He is as deadly as they come.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
2940046616194
Publisher:
New Concepts Publishing
Publication date:
04/27/2015
Sold by:
Smashwords
Format:
NOOK Book
Sales rank:
967,145
File size:
384 KB
Age Range:
18 Years

Related Subjects

Read an Excerpt

The Wyndmaster's Lady


By Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

Copyright © 2007 Charlotte Boyett-Compo
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-59998-424-7


Chapter One

As rough as the seas had been during the storm, they were now becalmed and the Austru's sails were hanging limp against the masts. Not a breath of a breeze stirred.

Alone in the captain's cabin, Sierran and his new wife were lying-he under the covers and she outside them-with their fingers entwined as he told of her of his life before joining the Army of the Federation.

"Despite having a family when growing up, you sound as though you were nearly as lonesome as I," Celeste commented.

"It was a tough childhood," he admitted. "I was the youngest and I always felt I had been an afterthought."

"A what?"

"The last child of my parents before my mother could have no more," he explained. "A sort of oops."

She smiled. "An oops," she repeated. "You have such a flare for description, milord."

"Sierran," he corrected.

"Sierran," she stated.

They were quiet for awhile, listening to the activity on deck above them.

"Are you going to do it now?" she asked softly.

Sierran frowned. "Do what, sweeting?"

Her face flamed. "You know." She fanned her free hand. "It."

A moment passed before he realized what she meant. "Oh," he said, his cheeks turning red. "That."

"Aye, that," she whispered and turned so she was looking at him. "Are you?"

"Do you want me to?" he countered. "We could wait until we reach my home."

She tucked her lower lip between her teeth. "Shouldn't we consummate the matter as soon as possible?"

Sierran blinked. "Are you in a rush of some sort?"

Celeste wanted to blurt out that, aye, she was, and that she was nearly jumping out of her skin with wanting him to touch her as she'd seen the maid's lover pleasuring the maid. She wanted to know what it was like to be the object of a man's desire but she thought, perhaps, that would be a bit brazen to tell him so and-more to the point-shameful on her part.

"Well, we are man and wife," she reminded him. "And it is your right."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was in no condition to exercise that right but one portion of his anatomy seemed to be having a mind of its own and was hardening at a prodigious rate.

"Just tell me what to do and I will," she was quick to say.

He swallowed hard for suddenly making love to her seemed to be the most important thing on his agenda, never mind the pain lancing through his body with every move he made.

"Well, ah, you have to be ..." He winced as his voice broke like an untried youth's. "You should be ..."

"Naked?" she suggested with an eagerness that left him staring at her.

"Aye, but ..." He stopped for she was already unbuttoning the bodice of her gown. All he could do was watch her while every inch of his flesh tingled and other parts of him throbbed.

Celeste swung her legs off the bed and stepped out of her gown, kicking off her slippers as she neatly folded the gown and laid it aside. Clad only in her chemise, stockings, and garter belt, she turned to look down at him. "Completely naked, milord?" she wanted clarified.

Sierran nodded, unable to utter a sound. His eyes flared when she pushed the chemise over her shoulders and wriggled out of it, her back to him. As his gaze settled on the wispy garter belt and the opaque white stockings-the only things she wore-he had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning.

Her bare back looked as soft as silk and the rounded mounds of her buttocks made his mouth water. When she unhooked each stocking and peeled it down her legs-presenting him with a delectable view of her sweet rump-he drew in a harsh breath.

"Are you naked beneath the covers, milord?" she asked, turning around to face him. One slender arm was arched over her breasts to cover them while her hand was splayed out over the wiry curls at the juncture of her thighs.

"Aye," he said and had he had the ability to do so would have kicked himself for the way his voice sounded like that of an adolescent boy.

"All right, then," she said and reached out for the covers.

Before he could do or say anything, she was climbing into the bed and settling beneath the covers with him, her satiny leg pressed close to his.

"I've never lain naked in the bed before," she said then giggled. "Or anywhere else for that matter." Her eyebrows drew together. "I rather like the way it feels."

Sierran had to snap his mouth shut for he was damned well drooling! Not inexperienced with women, he nevertheless felt bumbling as she turned to her side to face him.

"Am I being shameless, Sierran?" she asked, her lovely face crinkling.

"No," he said then had to repeat the word for he had nearly choked on it. "No, milady, you aren't being shameless. Just ..." He shrugged helplessly. "Curious, I suppose."

She put her thumbnail to her lips for a moment. "I don't think my father ever meant for me to get married," she said.

"So I've been told," he said, aching to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers over her pretty face.

"He's going to be so angry," she said.

"Let him," he said and shifted so he could lie facing her. He held his breath for the pain was worse than he expected.

"No," she said and sat up, gently putting her hand to his shoulder to press him down flat again. "That puts too much strain on your wounds."

The sheet slid down to his hips-barely covering the thick hair at his thighs. He was unaware the material had tented up around his erection until he saw her gaze drifting downward.

"May I look?" she asked, color flooding her cheeks.

He couldn't have answered had his very life depended on it. All he did was nod.

Hesitantly, she picked up the edge of the cover between her thumb and index finger and carefully lifted it. He saw her eyes widen. "Oh, my," she said, letting the sheet drop. She slowly swiveled her gaze to his. "Is it supposed to look like that? I mean be stiff and hard looking like that?"

Sierran groaned. "Milady ..." he began.

She lifted the sheet again and took a longer look. "And it seems to be leaking something from the tip. Should it be doing that?"

"Milady!" he hissed, snatching the sheet from her. "You shouldn't ... you can't...." He felt his face burning.

Celeste frowned. "Well, how am I to know these things if you don't tell me?" she asked. "You are my husband, after all. You should be instructing me, shouldn't you?"

(Continues...)



Excerpted from The Wyndmaster's Lady by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Copyright © 2007 by Charlotte Boyett-Compo. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

Charlee is the author of thirteen books, the first nine of which are the WindLegend Saga. Married thirty-two years to her high school sweetheart, Tom, she is the mother of two grown sons, Pete and Mike and a proud grandmother. A native of Sarasota, Florida, she grew up in Colquitt and Albany, Georgia and now lives in the Midwest.

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