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Desire's Promise

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Desire's Promise,  2004 New Concepts Publishing Genre: Medieval Romance IBSN: 1-58608-486-0 Format: Ebook A woman scorned-a vengeful wizard... Isabeau of Castile is no man's pawn in the game of political intrigue, especially when it comes to Kendrick of Kent, the bastard son of King Edward of England. She will make sure that he knows she's the mistress of the game...

 

Reviews

Desire's Promise is a fast-paced medieval love story. If you enjoy a good medieval story filled with love and passion, you don't want to miss this one!
- Sensual Romance Reviews

Desire's Promise is a spicy full length novel in the New Concepts line of Historical novels. Watch the tables turn as he masters her; no-she masters him; no . . . who is the captor and who is the prey?  Tracy L. Ranson takes the reader on a journey to an old Castille, a historical novel flavored by Dominance and submission, complicated by a jealous woman and her pet wizard. An entertaining read.
- Novel Talk

Ms. Ranson delivers passion, romance, intrigue and treachery. Taking the reader back to the days of Lord and Ladies, conquering heroes and women who are never truly conquered. Desire's Promise is an excellent story where love truly does conquer all.
- Fallen Angel Reviews

 

Excerpt

The stringed and fluted music, enticing and melodious, rose high in the air and encouraged all to make merry. After a few melodious strains, Isabeau could not help herself. She rose from her place behind the food-laden dais and joined the dancers on the floor. Alone for a few moments, she enjoyed herself until a young nobleman from the neighboring village emerged from the crowd. He was about her height with crimson hair and a boyish, crooked smile. Bowing low, she took his hand and led him into a sedate pavane. They moved in a dream like fashion and came together at leisure filled pace as dictated by the dance. As they made a turn, Isabeau felt prickles dance up her spine, signaling someone was watching her with great interest. Who could it be?

She turned to her left, not sure of who it was. Her gaze swept around the room in search of the perpetrator and noticed no one in particular. Why did she feel this way?

Then she looked to her right. What she saw made her blood turn to ice in her veins.

The Duke of Kent lounged his large frame in a casual stance against a thick pillar, his dark, his mysterious eyes narrowed to slits as they trained on her. Muscles flicked angrily in his chiseled jaw as one corner of his full lips pulled into a half grin. Now and then, he raised a goblet of wine to his lips, his menacing gaze remaining solely on her. Out of reaction, she pulled away from her partner as though the boy’s touch scalded her. Why did she feel as though she committed a crime?

She shook her head and resumed her innocent dance with the youth. They turned again only to discover a dark, hulking presence in their path. Isabeau drew in a sharp breath. The Duke of Kent stood with his mammoth arms crossed over his wide chest, his thick legs splayed out as if to prevent any possible escape. She peered up. His sensuous lips drew into a charming smile as his gaze raked over her body. Isabeau shivered. Why did he pay her this attention when she clearly did not want it?

His gazed flicked to the nobleman who seemed too scared to move, jerking his midnight colored head sideways. “Move out of the way, boy.”

The youth paled. “How…how…dare you…” His stare raked nervously over the Duke’s form. Isabeau trembled. Would there be bloodshed tonight?

The Duke's seductive grin gave way to a devilish one as though the man scented blood. His dark eyebrow shot upwards as a large, bronzed hand slipped to the beautifully jeweled, ornate hilt of the sword strapped to his side. “You wish to challenge me?”

The young lord’s fire tainted head trembled with anxiety. “Nay, I do not,” he mumbled and turned and bowed to her. “Princess, we shall resume our dance later.” Nervous steps took the man from her presence.

Her anger exploded. “How dare you do this me? I am not some servant you can order around!” She turned to walk away when a large hand clamped on her wrist, drawing her hard against his chest.

With a quick flick of his hand, the Duke spun her around to face him. Steady throbs of mixed emotions pounded at her temples as the near proximity of him fed the fire within. In a silent gesture, his tanned finger reached out and graced the underside of her chin, tilting her head upwards. “You truly are a beautiful woman, Princess. Perhaps later...” His experienced captured hers in furry of ale induced ardor, his thick arms wrapping around her tightly. His tempting tongue teased the corners of her taut mouth, searching for entrance. For a moment, she held out against the barrage on her senses but she was weak. In no time at all, her lips relaxed and gave him the entry he so desired. Expertly, he explored the cavern of her mouth, encouraging her tongue into play. Clumsily, she joined in the dance, feeling the warmth of his breath in her mouth. Shivers of newfound feeling shot up her spine and thrummed through her limbs where it exploded in a fury. Her knees weakened even more. She would have fallen had the Duke not strapped his strong arms around her waist.

Her practical sense clawed its way through the hazy cloud of new emotion in her mind and emerged. Putting her hands on his chest, Isabeau pushed with all she had in her. The Duke stumbled backward as surprise registered on his face. It serves him right for taking liberties he had no right to. She wiped his kissed away with the back of her embroidered sleeve. “Never accost me in that way again you fiend!”

The Duke stepped forward, his determined gaze boring through her soul and nearly melting her defenses. “There will come a time, Princess, when all you crave is my touch. From this night forward, you belong only to me. That kiss should have demonstrated it to everyone present. ” His voice was low and seductive, the rich timbre turning up the intensity of the womanly flame alive inside of her. Aye, now I can see why he charms the women so.

Isabeau laughed in a soft tone and hoped the anxiety of being this close to him did not bleed through her voice. “Nay, I belong to no man, especially to you. Be gone with you and never darken my presence with yours again.” She turned once again only to find his grip was still on her wrist.

His wild grin grew wider. “You do belong to me. I knew that from the first moment I saw you and so do you. Otherwise why did you react so quickly when you found me gazing at you?”

Isabeau looked away for a moment in an effort to hide her embarrassment. Why did she act so? She did not even know the Duke, let alone belong to him! She held her chin with a defiant pout. “You surprised me, ‘tis all. Go back and drown your madness! I wish to have nothing to do with you!” Steady throbs of emotion banged her chest as the heat from his strong hand seared the skin. Somehow she must get away from him before her heart burst!

His grip remained strong. “Aye, you will, Princess and ‘twill not be long now.” A snide smirk spread across his lips and fired her anger. Her hand clenched at her sides, the curved ends of her nails digging into her palms. How dare her treat her like that!

Before she could stop herself, Isabeau’s hand rose and struck him full across the face. The Duke’s head recoiled then resumed its previous position, his gaze dripping with a mixture of anger and desire. His hand rose and rubbed the area in a devilish fashion. “You will pay for that, my dear but ‘twill be most pleasurable punishment, I assure you.”

She pulled her wrist from his grip and stalked over to where her former dance partner stood, surrounded by many of his friends. Casting one look over her shoulder, Isabeau stared at the Duke as unabashed fury swam in across his face in ripples. His hand remained at his burning cheek where it rubbed in gentle, slow circles. Good, let him look at what he cannot have. Extending her hand, the nobleman took it and kissed it tenderly, all under the Duke’s gaze. Inwardly she smiled. She could play the game just as well too.

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