Dark Warrior (Warrior #2) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Warrior Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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Mary stretched herself fully awake and after combing her hair and plaiting it, she hurried to join Roarke for breakfast. She stopped abruptly when she discovered she was alone. Roarke was nowhere to be found and she understood that this simple breakfast was his way of saying goodbye.

She was saddened by his departure. She had wished to thank him for all he had done for her. He had listened endlessly to her speak of her love for Michael and did not discourage her, though he urged caution. She hoped their paths would cross again.

She ate her breakfast, her glance constantly drifting to the woods, hoping to see him emerge. She ached for Michael’s return; actually she ached for his arms, his touch, his kiss.

She was beginning to understand the ramifications of love. It consumed the senses and the mind. Nothing else seemed to matter; thoughts of the person lingered on the mind and the need to be with that person overwhelmed.

That was how she presently felt, overwhelmed with the need to see Michael again, to know he was well, safe, and that he missed her as much as she missed him.

Childish thoughts?

Selfish thoughts?

Or thoughts of love?

She laughed at her own musings and if he did not return soon, she would probably drive herself mad by day’s end.

“What is it you find humorous?”

Mary jumped from her seat, startled by the familiar voice behind her. She turned with a brilliant smile.

“Michael!” She flung herself at the dark-robed figure, holding on to him as if she never intended to let him go ever again.

He clung to her just as tenaciously.

“I have missed you so very much,” she said and laid her head on his chest, rubbing her cheek against the coarse material of his robe, wishing the shroud did not separate them.

“And I you, though I carried your sweet voice in my mind and whenever I missed you I heard you in my head and felt you close to me.”

“Pleased I am to be there for you.” She placed a hand to his heart. “I will always be there for you, Michael.”

Holding her, he said, “I too, Mary, I will always be there for you. You must remember that.”

She closed her eyes, smiled wide, and raised her head, offering her lips to him.

He took them, eager to taste her once again. He had missed her so very much. There had not been a time he had not thought about her; she had been forever on his mind and he liked the way she lingered there. He did not feel alone; he felt part of her and it felt good.

He kissed her slowly and with purpose, the purpose being to love her with all his heart. He took his time, wanting their kiss to go on and on, wanting this close, intimate connection with her, wanting her with him forever.

The thought jolted his senses and he remembered the news he was to deliver—but not just yet. He did not want to wipe the smile from her face, or the joy from her eyes.

He stepped away, though he took hold of her hand. “You look well and happy.”

“I am happy now that you have returned.”

“Roarke was good company?” he asked.

“Aye, that he was. He entertained me with many good stories and he loved to eat, supplying us with more than ample food.” She patted her stomach. “I think I have added to my weight considerably.”

Michael held out her arm and pretended to inspect her. “You look the same. Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “You look more beautiful than I remember.”

She did. She seemed somehow to have blossomed in his absence. Her face was full and touched by the sun. No worry lines marred her brow or crinkled at the corners of her eyes. Her lips were rosy, her blue eyes brimming with joy, and her long blond hair was neatly plaited and shined like a summer’s sun.

“It is love that gives me such beauty.”

He wanted to warn her not to love him, that it was a mistake she would surely regret, and yet his heart and soul screamed for her to love him and not give up on them.

“Your love,” she said and tapped his chest. “It is strong in my heart. No one can touch it, no one can harm it, no one can take it away from me.”

With her back to his chest and his masked face next to her cheek, he swung her around in his arms. “Promise me that. Promise me that my love will forever remain in your safekeeping.”

“I promise,” she said without hesitation.

He hugged her tightly to him. “Your promise means much to me.”

“And will you promise me the same? Will you keep my love safe in your heart?”

“Forever and beyond time your love will rest safely in my heart, my mind, and my soul.”


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