Forest Sauvage.”
“And then?”
“There was a battle. It’s a long story.”
“I want to hear it.”
“Why?”
“First, you are my husband.” She said it with a bittersweet smile that speared his heart. “And I’m part of Camelot, too.”
She was more than that. Guinevere was royalty, but noble birth meant little in these modern times. A difficult truth struck him. With no skills, no occupation, how would she survive? Whatever he’d done in the past to protect her—and he would lay down his life in an instant—he had to keep her close now. Without him, Guinevere was alone. The thought filled him with an odd mix of dread and desire.
Her expression was expectant, waiting for him to say more. He smiled, feeling the bruises on his cheek and jaw. “I promise I’ll regale you with the entire story, every last dull detail of it. But right now I’d rather tell you what this modern age has to offer.”
Her eyes widened with interest. “All right. Please do.”
“This is a strange world, filled with extremes. Most obvious is the wealth of information and experience. Books are readily available, and travel is breathtakingly fast.”
“Really? And who are the books for?”
It was a reasonable question. They’d been born in a time when relatively few learned to read. “Schools are available to everyone, rich or poor.”
“Do women go to school, as well?”
“Yes, they are regarded as equals here.”
Guinevere said nothing, but her breath had quickened, a sure sign of emotion. An uneasy feeling crept down Arthur’s spine—had he just opened Pandora’s box?—but then she put a gentle hand on his knee. The unexpected touch sent a flood of heat up his thigh. Without quite knowing what he did, he leaned forward, needing to be closer.
“Then perhaps things can be different,” she said. “We can live as the modern people do.”
Her words did not quite sink in—other sensations were elbowing their way to the fore. Enchanted, he reached over, touching the slight cleft of her chin. The skin there was like satin, beckoning him to explore further. She stilled, growing watchful again. Only the muscles of her long, graceful throat moved as she swallowed.
Arthur was mesmerized. Her scent enveloped him, the space between them growing warm. All his earlier reservations melted, and he didn’t care that he was dropping his guard. Right then all that mattered was Guinevere. His Gwen. She should be at his side, where he could touch her silken skin whenever he liked.
“Things will be different,” he said, believing it for a heady moment. “Things will finally be right.” He would rule Camelot, and she would be at his side, bonded together in this strange new time. The challenge of finding their way in the modern world would give them the common ground they’d always lacked. An image formed in his mind’s eye of them seated before the assembled knights, hand in hand and finally united. They looked deliriously happy.
“Right?” she asked softly.
“As they always should have been. As I always meant them to be.”
His daydream faded when she rose with a sigh, crossing to the balcony door to look outside. Rain splattered the glass, blurring the lights outside. At some point, dusk had fallen.
“How do I know we want the same thing?” The question was hesitant.
A familiar knot of confusion made Arthur frown. He never understood exactly how her mind worked. It was as if tiny demons lived inside her skull, coming up with ways to torment him. “How could it be otherwise? You’re my queen.”
She turned from the window, her expression defiant. “You didn’t ask me to follow you into the future.”
Arthur got to his feet, wary of her mood now. “The fae had sworn vengeance on me. I was the one they wanted, so it was safer for you to remain in Camelot. With danger gone, I believed you’d find happiness.”
“Happiness?” She gave a mirthless laugh that fired his skin with shame. “You left me alone.”
His anger rose in self-defense, but he held it in check as she lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “Never mind the past,” she said. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Arthur took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. A moment ago, he’d been certain everything would be fine. He wanted to recapture that mood. “You’re wondering if there’s a role for you here, in this world?”
“Precisely.” She looked ghostly in the soft light, twilight deepening behind her silhouette.
He covered the distance between them in a single stride. The energy of their argument prickled beneath his skin, and it made his hands rough as he grasped her slender waist. She went rigid at his touch, resisting until he ran a hand down her spine. Yes, she needed comfort. Another long stroke and she arched into him, her body remembering his. The skirts of her dress floated around her as he pulled her close.
Relief made him ache as he realized there was still a welcome for him in her arms. Arthur bent his head, murmuring into her ear. “Let me reassure you that there is no one else I would consider as my queen.”
Lashes veiled her eyes, with a hint of mischief lurking beneath her sadness. “And why is that?”
“I wanted you the moment I saw you dancing in your father’s garden. You were everything I was not.”
Her lips quirked. “A girl, you mean?”
He buried his nose in the cloud of her hair, her scent filling his soul. “You knew nothing of the ills of the world. You were innocent.”
She pulled back to search his face. “No one stays that pure. That ignorant.”
“Not when you become a wife,” he said, letting desire sharpen his smile. Then he kissed her.
He was forced to bend while she rose on tiptoe. They flowed into the embrace naturally, her arms winding around his neck. His hands inched down her ribs and over her hips, reclaiming her curves. Desire, already invading his thoughts, pushed its way to the fore.
He kissed her hard, reminding her that he was the master, and yet leaving coaxing nips behind. When they were together like this, there had never been a question about the spark between them. Her mouth opened, welcoming his exploration, letting their tongues twist and mingle. The gentle swell of her breasts pressed into his chest, demanding to be stroked and when he obeyed—even a sovereign sometimes obeyed—a sound of pleasure escaped her throat. Heat tore through his body, making him drive her back against the cool glass door. He held her head, gentle and yet not, as he plundered her mouth. Her fingers twined with his, her body arching up, straining to meet him.
How long the kiss lasted was impossible to know, but the sky was fully dark when they were done. The lights of the city shone behind his Gwen as if this new age had fashioned a celestial crown for his queen. Arthur ached with desire, eager to put his seal on this conquest. It was a healing, yes, and a reunion, but he also wanted her to know beyond
