Winter Stallion
by Kate Hill
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Just before the winter holiday called Unity Feast begins, Phillipa is called to deliver an urgent message to a neighboring village. On her way home, she is knocked unconscious but awakens safe in a forest cabin. Her rescuer is a Horseman with elfish blue eyes and a coat as pure as freshly fallen snow. Exquisitely handsome and breathtakingly virile, he wants to claim her as his mate and for the first time in her life Phillipa has no desire to resist.
Recovering from a near-fatal flight, Luther has been living in self-proclaimed exile. To him, a Fighting Carrier who lost his entire Gathering party is no longer fit to lead. His solitude is shattered by the arrival of a woman who sets his soul on fire. Enveloped by Phillipa’s soft, warm curves and hungry for her kisses, he finds pleasure in her that all Horsemen wish for. Unfortunately she won’t rest until she convinces him to face the truth about that tragic flight and take his place among the greatest Horsemen warriors in the world.
The following excerpt from WINTER STALLION is for readers 18 and over.
Phillipa awoke in a warm bed in an unfamiliar, yet cozy room. A fire danced in the hearth, its pleasant, smoky scent wafting on the air. A high-backed chair stood by the fire and across the room was a round wooden breakfast table with two matching chairs. At the foot of the large bed, she noticed the top of a carved oak trunk.
Her first thought was, oddly, of a Horseman whom she’d dreamed about in her unconscious state. Just imagining him made her pulse quicken with the most lustful feeling she’d ever experienced. He’d been gorgeous, this Horseman from her dream. His full-coat and equine-half were pure white and his long human hair pale gold. It blew around his broad shoulders like silk in the wind. Though not incredibly tall, he was above average height for a Horseman.
Both his horse and man halves were so perfectly proportioned that he could only exist in a dream. Even beneath his full-coat, his incredibly handsome features were easily discernable. A large, well-shaped nose characteristic of many Horsemen, a square jaw and enormous blue eyes intense enough to melt a glacier.
Strange that in a dream with such a perfect Horseman, she had still felt cold and sore from the fall she’d taken. Maybe she had been awake after all but was hallucinating. Then the Horseman had taken her in his arms and kissed her. His warm, powerful body had chased away the chill in her bones and she’d wanted nothing more than to stay in his embrace forever. In a deep, smooth voice, he’d told her his name. Luther.
Phillipa shook her head, then drew a sharp breath as the motion caused discomfort. Now that the dream had faded, reality set in. She touched a hand to the tender spot on the back of her head and grew anxious. She’d been on her way home from delivering the message to Midnight Cove when something had struck her off Black Silk.
Black Silk! Where was her horse? She pushed herself to a sitting position, almost wincing at the soreness in her muscles. It felt as if she’d fallen pretty hard, though she didn’t think she’d broken any bones. She had absolutely no memory of arriving at this cottage, nor did she recall changing from her clothes into the linen shirt and trousers that were almost the perfect length for her, yet too big.
Her bare feet touched the scatter rug beside the bed and she sat for a moment, her hands pressing into the mattress. She was about to stand and look for the owner of the cottage when the door opened and in stepped the man from her dream.
An inexplicable thrill rushed through her at the sight of him. A combination of desire, fear and something so deep she could scarcely imagine such emotions connected to a man she’d just laid eyes upon.
Their gazes locked and she saw him draw a deep breath, as if this moment was as monumental to him as it was to her. Those large blue eyes with the corners tilted up like an elf’s widened a bit and gleamed with the same intensity as in her dream. The tips of his pointed Horseman ears poked through his long, silky hair. She noted two earrings, one gold hoop and one sapphire stud, pierced the very tip of one ear. It was unusual for Horsemen in these parts to have pierced ears.
“By the gods,” she murmured. “Luther.”
“Phillipa,” he said, quickly regaining his composure. He stomped snow from his boots and managed to close the door against the drifts that had fallen in. Then he strode toward her. She noted he was in his Huform, dressed in a long cloak covered in a layer of ice and snow. He also wore a shirt, breeches and boots. Luther placed his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face toward his, studying her carefully. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore, but other than that fine. I. . .” She paused, unsure of how to continue. Though she knew about the dream sharing between Horsemen and their destined mates, she had been certain it would never happen to her. All her life, she’d been independent. Free of the burden so many women carried–the burden of wanting or needing a husband. Surely someone of her nature wouldn’t be predisposed to sharing dreams with a Horseman?
“Do you remember what happened to you?” he asked, removing his cloak and tossing it aside. The shirt and breeches were damp where the ice and snow had seeped through the front of his cloak.
It seemed odd having such a mundane conversation with a man whom she’d met in a dream and whose presence quickened her pulse. A barrage of inappropriate thoughts filled her mind. She imagined them locked naked in an passionate embrace, of whispering secrets only lovers shared.
This was utter madness, yet wasn’t there a bit of craziness in shared dreams that compelled two strangers to experience almost irresistible passion?
“Yes. I was riding through the woods and something hit me on the head. I can only assume it was ice blown off a tree. My horse. Black Silk. Where is he–”
“He’s in the barn and perfectly safe. I just came from checking on him. Now I suggest you get back in bed and I’ll bring you tea and something to eat.”
“I can’t.” She stood and found they were just about at eye level. Not surprising, considering she was taller than most humans and the equal height of many Horsemen. It was part of her bloodline. Most daughters of Horsemen were quite tall.
Luther was much bigger built than she was, his shoulders broad and chest wide, the mark of tremendous stamina among his kind. She could practically feel the power in him and it sent a thrill of desire darting through her.
The smoldering look in his eyes told her that the passion she felt wasn’t one-sided. The faintest smile touched his finely-shaped lips and the urge to kiss him almost overcame her.
She cleared her throat and tried to step away. “I need to get back to Hornview. My nephew is waiting for me.”
He cocked an eyebrow and sidestepped, blocking her path. Placing his hands gently, yet firmly, on her shoulders, he pushed her onto the edge of the bed. “Back to Hornview? Not tonight you won’t be.”
“Excuse me?” she demanded. What the hell was he talking about? Another hint of fear struck her. She was stuck in a strange cottage with a Horseman she didn’t know who seemed bent on forcing her back into bed. As much as he aroused her, she had no wish to be ravaged by any man. She stood abruptly and with such force that her head started aching again. “Get out of my way!”
“Don’t upset yourself.”
“I’m not upsetting myself, you horse’s ass! You’re upsetting me. If you don’t let me off this bed, there’s going to be trouble.”
“There’s no need to be rude,” he snapped. A glacial look crept into those gorgeous eyes. In spite of his reserved manner, he possessed a toughness that raised more questions in her mind and warned her to remain cautious. “I’m trying to see to your comfort while you’re here.”
“I told you I’m leaving.”
“And I told you there’s no way you can get to Hornview tonight. The snow is thigh deep out there and still falling so heavily that even if I wanted to fly you out of here, there’s absolutely no visibility.”
She stared at him for a dumfounded moment, then pushed past him toward the door. This time he let her go. She pulled it open and again snow tumbled in. Great gusts of wind blew in her face and she squinted in the icy swirls on a backdrop of utter blackness. It took her a moment to force the door shut, then she turned to him.
His arms folded across his chest, he wore a gloating expression that she longed to slap off his handsome face. Gods, how could a man be compelling, yet at the same time thoroughly annoying?
“Convinced?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.
“This is terrible.” She began pacing the room, ignoring any lingering soreness and pain in her head. At least Canyon was safe with Susana, but what if she was stuck here for days? It could happen, depending on the weather.
“Surely my company isn’t that bad,” he said.
She stopped abruptly and stared at him. Goodness, how ungrateful she must sound. He had, after all, saved her life. Still, the last thing she wanted was to be snowed in with a man she’d shared a dream with. Or had she? Now it was starting to fade. Probably because he stood right there in the flesh, watching her with those soul-stealing eyes, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. . .
Heavens, what a gorgeous chest! Broad, dusted with golden hair and made of lean, sculpted muscle. He had not a bit of spare flesh on his sides or that stomach with those rows of muscles she longed to trace with her fingertips. In the dream he’d looked too perfect to be real, but he was real after all. This wasn’t just an average Horseman, but one of Fighting Carrier quality. Again she thought of that underlying toughness revealed in his look from a moment ago. She realized a complex Horseman stood before her, yet at the moment she found it difficult to think about his complexity or anything else when faced with his magnificent body.
Her brother, Terra, was considered exceptionally well-formed, but Phillipa had never seen any Horseman like this. He was flowing, yet compact, and even in Huform moved with grace and precision seen only in the finest warriors and athletes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not your company that’s the problem. Would you like me to turn around while you change clothes?” She did so before he had a chance to reply.
“If you feel more comfortable,” he said.
That had been a stupid question she’d asked. Modesty wasn’t a Horseman trait. They usually wore clothing only in the presence of humans or during the cold weather. Please, oh please don’t let him be the sort who walks around his house naked. That would be too much to resist. . .
“I’m sure having me here is an inconvenience for you,” she said.
“I’m decent, Phillipa. You may face me without fear.” Somehow he managed to sound both regal and teasing. That cultured voice and the playful tone aroused her more than she wanted to admit.
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