Kiss Across Swords (Kiss Across Time Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

my husband.”
    He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he muttered and brought the cup to his lips and slowly drank a mouthful.
    The mead tasted watery yet strong to Taylor’s westernized and retail-and commercially-packed-food-trained palette. She waited for Veris to swallow. He lowered the cup to the table and looked at her. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I thought I had forgotten, but I find it’s all coming back. Like riding a bicycle.”
    He turned to his plate eagerly.
    * * * * *
     
    There was no formal beginning to the music and dancing. It seemed that as soon as bellies began to fill, minds turned to other distractions. The first hint of entertainment was the thrumming of a drumbeat far in the background, as the diners were nearing the end of the long meal. Despite the plain, well-cooked fare, these people ate with gusto. The drumbeat in the background barely checked their enthusiastic chomping.
    Then a pipe joined it in a merry tune as they nodded their heads or tapped their feet. A low horn came next.
    Abruptly, a man sprang to his feet, a cup of mead in hand, to the cheers and calls of those around him. He grabbed the arm of a woman nearby and hauled her to her feet. He spun her in a series of looping, somewhat graceful circles that seemed to be more or less in time with the beat of the music. Everyone else clapped along with him, while the music settled down into a distinct dance tune.
    Other couples joined him around the fire.
    Veris grasped Taylor’s hand. “This, I’ve always known how to do.” He climbed from the bench and tugged on her arm. His face was flushed from the wine and food.
    “You?” Taylor said, amazed. It was always Brody who danced with her. Veris occasionally partnered her when there was a Viennese waltz because he loved the graceful rhythm, but that was about all. She looked at the energetic swooping and whirling happening next to the fire with amazement. “Are you sure?” she asked Veris.
    He picked her up around the waist and lifted her off the bench. “Stop arguing, woman.”
    Taylor found herself laughing as he swept her into the rush of bodies swirling and tapping out the beat with their feet against the floorboards and their hands. Veris laughed, too. It was infectious.
    She realized they weren’t the only ones laughing and smiling. Under the beat and sound of the music and the rap of the dancers’ feet on the floor she could hear everyone—dancers and the audience watching them—laughing, calling to each other, shouting encouragement and rude observations about each other which generated further laughter and comments. The mead and wine pitchers were being passed around with even more frequency now that the meal had all but finished.
    Everyone knew everyone, despite the large number of people in the hall. It made for ease and familiarity. As two of the handful of strangers there, word had quickly passed as to Taylor and Veris’ public identities. Their acceptance had been smoothed by the king leading Taylor to dinner.
    Now they were tacitly part of the village, even if the men were careful to give Veris plenty of elbow room and not jostle him even accidentally.
    Between dances, they rested. Veris got his long conversation with Marit during one of them, when his sister settled on the bench beside him and the two sat with their heads almost together and drained a pot of mead between them, oblivious to the people around them.
    Veris emerged from that conversation looking both grim and happy at once. But there was a contented air about him and Taylor knew Marit had impressed him—a difficult thing to do with Veris.
    It was during one such rest, when Veris was studying Taylor with a brooding look in his eyes she knew well, that made her body warm and her nipples harden against the underdress, that the king appeared in front of them both, looking for his appointed dance with Taylor.
    Veris’ jaw rippled as he reached for the mug of mead he had just drained and