LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE…..
Beaumaris of York
An Excerpt from Nightbound
by Lynn Viehl
The bathroom door opened, and Alys walked out, her hands busy tucking a towel around her damp body. Beau was so astonished to see her that at first all he did was stare. She stopped as soon as she saw him, turned, and ran for the door.
Beau reached it before she did and slapped a hand against it to keep it shut. She spun around him, and without thinking Beau clamped an arm around her waist. “You needn’t—”
She kicked back at him, knocking them both off balance. As they fell forward, Beau brought up his free arm so that it would land on the carpet before her face, and used it to kept most of his weight off her.
“Be still,” he said into her arm as she wriggled under him. Her warm, damp body smelled of almond-scented soap over her own fiery scent. She was not afraid, he realized, but furious, and the scent he was shedding was not affecting her in the slightest. “I am not here to hurt you.”
Beau lifted up enough to roll her onto her back, but when she struck at his face he pinned her wrists to the carpet. When he glanced down he saw that her towel now lay wadded under her. That was what burned through his garments against his cool skin – the bare front of her body.
“I’ll fight you,” she promised, her voice echoing the trembling of her body, “and whatever you do to me, I will hurt you.”
“This is a mistake.” Beau started to lift himself from her, and then stopped. “I did not come here to assault you, or see you naked, or whatever you are thinking.”
“You’re on top of me,” she snapped. “I’m naked. You have an erection. What am I supposed to think?”
“I do not. . . .” Bloody hell, he was as hard as a club. Softening his voice, he said, “I apologize.”
“I’ll press charges,” she promised. “After I hurt you.”
Beau released her wrists, and pushed himself up, turning away as quickly as he could. “Cover yourself now, girl.” He could hear her crawling backward and wrapping the towel. “I came to see—”
She tried to get at the door again, and he was obliged to trap her against it.
“This didn’t work for you the last time,” Beau told her. “We can roll about on the floor again, or you can listen to me and stop trying to run out of here screaming.” She instantly opened her mouth and took in a deep breath, forcing him to clamp his hand over her lips. “That was not a suggestion.”
She made an angry, muffled sound.
“Listen to me. I can stuff something in your mouth” – Christ Jesus, why had he said that? – “or you can promise me you will not scream by nodding. What’s it to be, then?”
Over the edge of his hand, her eyes narrowed, and then she gave a single nod.
As soon as he took his hand away she said, “Would you please get off me?” As soon as he shifted his body away from hers she ducked under his arm and retreated a safe distance. “Now get out of here or I’ll call security.”
“I can’t. I have business with Dr. Stuart.” When she moved toward the phone, he added, “I did check with the front desk. The clerk said that his room number was seven-fourteen, and unless they’ve changed the numbers in the last three minutes, this is room seven-fourteen.”
She picked up the receiver, placing it on her shoulder before she hitched up the front of the towel. “How did you get in here?”
“You left the door ajar.” She wore no ring on her wedding finger, and she didn’t behave like a wife. Beau’s lust darkened as he imagined her long, graceful body spread beneath some rutting, gray-haired scholar – but surely she was too young for that. “Forgive me, but who are you? The professor’s daughter?”
“I didn’t leave the door open.” Doubt flickered over her features, and her confusion made her seem even younger. “At least I don’t think I did.” She slowly replaced the receiver. “I’m Dr. Stuart. The only Dr. Stuart.”
“You can’t be.” He studied her. “I’m looking for Dr. Al Stuart.”
“That’s me,” she insisted. “A.L. Stuart. I use my initials for professional purposes.”
Beau dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re a woman, and hardly more than a child.”
“I’m twenty-six, and I earned my first PhD when I was twenty-one. Excuse me, but I’m uncomfortable talking to you like this.” She unzipped a backpack and bent over to rummage through it. “Why did you assume I was a man?”
Beau caught himself admiring the long, elegant lines of her bare legs. “Tremayne told me your name was Al Stuart. When we spoke in the bar, you knew I was looking for a man.”
“I didn’t know who you were or what you wanted, so I was simply being careful.” She straightened. “You should have mentioned that you were from the Hylord Foundation.”
He inclined his head. “I also happen to be cautious with strangers.”
“You mean, when you’re not tackling them?” She scooped up a robe from the end of the bed. “I have the preliminary excavation schedule prepared. I was going to fax it toIrelandin the morning.” She shrugged into the robe, turning her back to him as she let the towel drop to the floor and tied the belt. “I also plan to file progress reports twice a week, if that’s acceptable.” She faced him, her features completely composed, but her scent still hot with anger and something more. “Are you with Hylord’s local office? Should I e-mail a copy to you?”
Obviously the girl was immune to l’attrait, which meant he would have to rely on persuasion. “I have been sent by the – by Hylord – to oversee your project.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “You’re an archaeologist?” When he shook his head, her gaze went from his face to his chest and toes, and then flashed up again. “What other digs have you worked on?”
He couldn’t deceive her on that score. “This would be my first.”
Her jaw set. “I’m sorry, but I can’t have this.”
“It’s done,” he assured her. “I’m yours.”
She writes mostly novels in a variety of genres and under several pseudonyms. Among them are science fiction (as S. L. Viehl), romantic fiction (as Lynn Viehl, Gena Hale, and Jessica Hall), and Christian fiction (as Rebecca Kelly). She has described herself as primarily a writer of romance: no matter what genre she is working in, an element of romance will always be present.
In what spare time remains she enjoys quilting, reading, cooking, painting, and knitting. She currently lives with her family in Florida.
Want to read more from Lynn Viehl?
This contest is provided by Lynn Viehl
The tote was designed and handmade/hand-quilted by Lynn Viehl, and will contain the following:
A signed set of all three Lords of the Darkyn novels
A Cool Gear insulted reusable hot/cold cup
A box of Bahlsen Butter Leaves cookies
A Celestial Seasonings Fruit Teas Sampler
A quilted button bookmark
Available May 7, 2013 from Signet/Penguin
About this Book:
Beaumaris of York has many secrets. No human can know that he’s an immortal Darkyn assigned to Knight’s Realm, the Kyn stronghold disguised as a medieval theme park. And none of his brethren can discover that he’s a half-breed, rescued from slavery as a child. Lately Beau has been yearning for action—and he’s about to find it with his new mission.
Brilliant archaeologist Dr. Alys Stuart is infamous for her extraordinary theories—especially those concerning the mysterious Knights Templar—and she is unaware that her research is funded by the Kyn coffers. When the Kyn sends a vexingly good-looking man to assist—and protect—her, she doesn’t expect the surge of attraction she feels for him.
When a powerful Templar artifact surfaces, Alys and Beau must trust each other enough to stop mankind’s greed for immortality from sparking a war between mortals and Kyn that will destroy the world.
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