Page 31 of Ensnaring the Dove

Colombia had slept deeply throughout the night, nestling into the cradle of his arms like a wolf cub seeking reassurance and comfort. The feel of her against him had aroused him initially, so much so that his bollocks had ached for a long while afterward, but once she’d fallen asleep, another—and even more discomforting—sensation had stolen over him.

Tenderness, and the fierce urge to protect the woman in his arms, swept over him in a tide. Of course, he shouldn’t be letting himself feel anything for Colombia Juventus. She was a Roman noblewoman and promised to another. He’d only get himself in trouble if he continued down this road.

And yet, here he was walking it.

He’d slept poorly for the rest of the night, reeling from the sensations. They were both unwelcome and exhilarating, and when the dawn light filtered into their makeshift camp under the stone overhang, he faced it with gritty eyes and an ill temper.

Nonetheless, as he’d watched Colombia stretch, watched her turn her lovely face up to greet the morning sun, something had given way inside him. He’d risen to his feet to face her, and nowhe was doing what he’d told the darkness the night before he wouldn’t.

He was kissing her.

His lips whispered over Colombia’s once more, testing her reaction.

With a sigh, she leaned closer, her long, tawny, dark-tipped eyelashes fluttering closed again. And then, when a sigh escaped her, the last of his self-control unraveled.

A groan rumbled low in his throat as he increased the pressure of his lips on hers, both hands coming up to cup her face. He then traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue and was rewarded when they parted for him.

He kissed her deeply then, yet reverently, his tongue and lips exploring her mouth as if she were an exotic fruit he would only be allowed to taste once.

And she was.

Even as his tongue entwined with hers, even as he reveled in the softness of that small, lush mouth, his chest began to ache. Colombia was forbidden, but there was no denying it any longer: he wanted her.

Ever since they’d set out on this journey together, he’d been fighting a growing awareness. He’d rebelled against it, yet this morning, his will was weak.

Colombia reached out, her small hands flattening against his chest. He was wearing a leather vest, yet he was sure she could feel the thunder of his heart against her palm.

His blood now roared in his ears.

With another sigh, she kissed him back, tentatively at first, with untutored enthusiasm. However, when her teeth grazed his lower lip, his rod jerked against the confines of his bracae.

His body’s violent reaction made good sense filter in through the haze of desire that was close to consuming him.

Aedan slid his hands down to rest on her shoulders, his grip firming as he broke off the embrace and gently pushed himself away from her. Breathing hard, he met her gaze.

Colombia’s eyes had a glazed look—but not one that had been caused by the fever she’d battled with the eve before. Her lips were swollen from their kisses, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Gods, she was beautiful—but she wasn’t his.

“We should stop there,” he said hoarsely.

Disappointment flared in her eyes, even as she nodded.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he continued, biting the words out. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze remained on his face. “Don’t apologize,” she whispered. “I liked it.”

Muttering a curse, Aedan released her and stepped back, putting much-needed distance between them. “You’re promised to Linus Calix Aurelius, remember?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended, and her eyes widened.

She was probably surprised he’d recalled her betrothed’s full name—but he had.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Turning away from her, Aedan stooped under the overhang and retrieved his weapons. “The sun’s up,” he said tersely. “We need to be on our way.” He then slung his quiver of arrows across his back, his bow over one shoulder, and began strapping his dagger to his thigh.

Colombia didn’t reply. Instead, she ducked back under the lip of the rock and retrieved her woolen shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders. When she emerged to join him, her expression was taut, her gaze shadowed.

Aedan’s chest constricted at the sight.