Available in Ebook

Arto’s Enchantress
The Kingdom of Kerban 2

By: Morgan Henry
Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre
Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Forced to leave her quiet life for Kerban, Lady Cella didn’t count on handsome Duke Arto as her escort. Nor did she expect someone to want to cause her harm. She can’t allow herself to fall in love with the avowed bachelor, but he is constantly by her side, protecting her from harm. Will her body and her heart survive? 

Duke Arto wasn’t impressed to be ordered to pick up Lady Cella. Expecting a spoiled bit of fluff, he is pleasantly surprised. She’s also beautiful, but he’s an avowed bachelor and needs to keep some distance between them. When harm threatens his charge, can he protect her? More importantly, why does he keep pulling her closer?

 STORY EXCERPT

“You will eat, yes? We assumed it was your group we saw on the trail, so we made plenty. Most of us have already eaten, including me.” Ascar patted his flat belly and tilted his head toward the large pot that had a rather appetizing scent swirling around it.

“If there is enough, then.” Arto gestured to his men to serve themselves. He watched the tiny blonde serve, her movements slow and measured. She didn’t look his men in the eye, but concentrated on each spoonful as if it were about to leap off the utensil and attack.

She was lovely. For some reason, she made his body take notice. Particularly his cock. He would have to see if he could convince her into his tent tonight. At the jerk of Arto’s head, Tors gave Arto a bowl instead of serving his Duke. Arto made his way over to the little woman and bowed to her. “Have you eaten, little sola?”

“No, your Grace, I have not.” Her voice was sweet and clear, though her eyes were lowered. He thought he detected a bit of court accent in her voice, not the lazier tones of a kitchen maid. Odd.

“Well, we can’t have you going hungry. Would you join me?” Arto asked, trying his best to seem harmless.

She stilled as she considered. “As you wish, your Grace,” she said with a formal nod of her head.

She served him his meal and gestured to the camp bread at the side. He helped himself and watched as she served herself a small portion. She was wearing a plain blue gown with a modest scooped neck and long sleeves. It didn’t reveal much of her creamy skin, unfortunately. Examining it, he noted that though it lacked embroidery or other adornment, it was well made and of high-quality cloth. Up close he noticed her clear blue eye, when she dared look up, that is. He also saw her hands. They were strong, with long fingers, but lacked the roughened, chapped look that a kitchen maid’s should have. She lacked any real calluses.

Who was this little blonde flower?

Balancing his plate in one hand, he placed the other on the small of her back. She jumped and nearly lost her own meal.

“I’m sorry, sola, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Arto rubbed her back a little. He wondered whether she would be so tense when he had her beneath him. He would certainly do his best to ensure she wasn’t.

Her eyes flicked to his face, then down to her food again. “No apologies needed, your Grace. I am…somewhat clumsy.”

Having seen the careful way she moved, Arto knew she believed this. He wasn’t so sure she was innately uncoordinated. He seated his little sunshine on one of the smooth logs and settled beside her, his thigh touching hers.

“Ah, I see you have met your charge, Duke Arto.” Ascar smirked at him from the next log.

Arto choked.

Ascar laughed.

His little sola said nothing.

Arto cleared his throat and stood. “I should have asked for you at once, Lady Cella, er, Lady Vallant.’ He bowed low. “My apologies, and it is my privilege to serve you.”

Cella was silent for a moment, then stood and gave Arto a curtsey. “No apologies are needed, Your Grace. I do know the custom in Kerban is to address me as Lady Cella and I do not expect anyone to change that.” She sat.

“May I ask why you are acting as a kitchen maid? I thought you may have been resting from your journey.” Arto started on his supper. It was very flavourful.

There was a brief silence as Cella tapped her cup with her finger. Arto got the feeling she was weighing her words carefully.

“This is a small party and everyone seemed to help in some way, your Grace. I did not have too many useful skills to employ, so I asked the cook to direct me in helping her. She has been very patient with me.” Cella started in on her meal as well.

They ate quietly for a few minutes. The other conversations between his men and those in Ascar’s party could be heard over the pop and crackle of the fire.

“Your Grace, may I ask why you call me ‘sola’?”

Arto almost didn’t hear Cella’s quiet voice. He had been paying attention to a conversation about hunting gerto between two of his men.

Arto turned to her. She was looking at him, but her eyes lowered when he tried to hold her gaze.

“‘Sola’ is an old term for sunshine, my Lady. I thought it suited your blonde curls.” He considered whether to add his next thoughts. Ah, to hell with it. “It was meant to make you at ease, a term of…affection.”

Her pale cheeks coloured. They would be beautiful flushed with arousal.